Poem by William Herbert Carruth

Flower and Song

I.

I dug a little flower
   From out the forest-shade,
And set it in my garden
   Where light and sunshine played.

I went to watch it daily,
   I tended it with care,
And Said: "With this no other
   Shall ever dare compare."

And yet it slowly withered
   Beneath the cheerful sun,
And died there in my garden
   Before a week was done.

II.

I took a little fancy
   From out my tangled brain,
And set it to the music
   Of an old-time, sweet refrain.

I decked in out in figures,
   I nursed it with fine words,
And said: "My little songlet
   Shall be sung by all the birds."

Its spirit waned and vanished
   Beneath its wordy weight,
And it died with all its music,
   And met the flower's fate.

1. John Brown
2. Dear Phantoms of My Summer's Golden Dream!
3. The Sophomore's Invitation
4. Weeds
5. Tescott

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