Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the way,But the wild flowers have disappeared more rapidly and more completely than did the forests 250 years ago, and to-day it would be more difficult to coax back within our city limits the orchids and gentians and ferns, the meadow beauty and the pitcher plant of forty years ago, than to start a forest of oaks, beeches, and hickories.
Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold.
Thou art more dear to, me
Than all the prouder summer blooms may be.
My childhood's earliest thoughts are linked with thee.
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