Thou sweet wild flower, so simple, fresh, and fair, With flushed and tender face upraised to greet The troubled wanderer whose weary feet Avoid the crowded way to banish care, Encourage those who heavy burdens bear, And bid them turn from sin and the deceit Of worldly strife, and seek in this retreat A calm and quiet peace, a gift most rare. Though humble be thy station, there are few That better fill their niche in life than thee; The roses, tulips, lilies fair, the aisles Of gardens rich may line; but them, so true To nature's plans, from care and sorrow free Art nothing less than one of God's own smiles.
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