(85) WE should not mind so small a flower, Except it quiet bring Our little garden that we lost Back to the lawn again. So spicy her Carnations red, So drunken reel her Bees, So silver steal a hundred Flutes From out a hundred trees, That whoso sees this little flower, By faith may clear behold The Bobolinks around the throne, And Dandelions gold.
-Emily Dickinson