Down in my garden are blossoms fair,
Lifting their heads to the sun's bright rays;
Scattering perfume upon the air,
As incense sweet to the summer days.
When the earth with opening blade was green,
I watched each leaf as it came in sight;
Carefully plucking the weeds between
My flowers, seeking the warmth and light.
"What harm for such little weeds to grow "—
Said Mistress Sloth, with a weary sigh—
"A few short weeks." But I answered, "No,
These bear no blossoms to glad the eye."
