MARIGOLDS.

As MARY was a-walking

All on a summer day,

The flowers all stood curtseying

And bowing in her way;

The blushing poppies hung their heads

And whispered MARY'S name,

And all the wood anemones

Hung down their heads in shame.

The violet hid behind her leaves

And veiled her timid face,

And all the flowers bowed a-down,

For holy was the place.

Only a little common flower

Looked boldly up and smiled

To see the happy mother come

A-carrying her Child.

The little Child He laughed aloud

To see the smiling flower,

And as He laughed the Marigold

Turned gold in that same hour.

For she was gay and innocent--

He loved to see her so--

And from the splendour of His face

She caught a golden glow.

* * * * *

Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 159, August 18th, 1920 · 第 10 / 44 题