Once a golden hour
I cast to earth a seed.
Up there came a flower,
The people said, a weed.
Thro’ my garden-bower,
And muttering discontent
Cur’d me and my flower.
Then it grew so tall
It wore a crown of light
But thieves from o'er the wall
Stole the seed by night.
Sow’d it far and wide
By every town and tower
Till all the people cried
"Splendid is the flower."
Read my little fable:
He that runs may read.
Most can raise the flowers now,
For al have got the seed
And some are pretty enough,
And some are poor indeed;
And now again the people
Call it but a weed.
1 comment:
Beautiful blog, I have seen it before but had lost the link. Will drop in often now you've reminded me about it. Hav eyou considered joining City Daily Photo (not everyone posts daily)?
Ann
PS Tennyson is one of my favourite poets.
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