So here , along the brook-side , Beneath the green old trees , The flowers dwelt among their friends , The sunbeams and the breeze . One morning , as the flowers awoke , Fragrant , and fresh , and fair , A little worm came creeping by , And begged a shelter there . `` Ah ! pity and love me , '' sighed the worm , `` I am lonely , poor , and weak ; A little spot for a resting-place , Dear flowers , is all I seek . I am not fair , and have dwelt unloved By butterfly , bird , and bee . They little knew that in this dark form Lay the beauty they yet may see . Then let me lie in the deep green moss , And weave my little tomb , And sleep my long , unbroken sleep Till Spring 's first flowers come . Then will I come in a fairer dress , And your gentle care repay By the grateful love of the humble worm ; Kind flowers , O let me stay ! '' But the wild rose showed her little thorns , While her soft face glowed with pride ; The violet hid beneath the drooping ferns , And the daisy turned aside . Little Houstonia scornfully laughed , As she danced on her slender stem ; While the cowslip bent to the rippling waves , And whispered the tale to them . A blue-eyed grass looked down on the worm , As it silently turned away , And cried , `` Thou wilt harm our delicate leaves , And therefore thou canst not stay . '' Then a sweet , soft voice , called out from far , `` Come hither , poor worm , to me ; The sun lies warm in this quiet spot , And I 'll share my home with thee . '' The wondering flowers looked up to see Who had offered the worm a home : ' T was a clover-blossom , whose fluttering leaves Seemed beckoning him to come ; It dwelt in a sunny little nook , Where cool winds rustled by , And murmuring bees and butterflies came , On the flower 's breast to lie . Down through the leaves the sunlight stole , And seemed to linger there , As if it loved to brighten the home Of one so sweet and fair . Its rosy face smiled kindly down , As the friendless worm drew near ; And its low voice , softly whispering , said `` Poor thing , thou art welcome here ; Close at my side , in the soft green moss , Thou wilt find a quiet bed , Where thou canst softly sleep till Spring , With my leaves above thee spread . I pity and love thee , friendless worm , Though thou art not graceful or fair ; For many a dark , unlovely form , Hath a kind heart dwelling there ; No more o'er the green and pleasant earth , Lonely and poor , shalt thou roam , For a loving friend hast thou found in me , And rest in my little home . '' Then , deep in its quiet mossy bed , Sheltered from sun and shower , The grateful worm spun its winter tomb , In the shadow of the flower . And Clover guarded well its rest , Till Autumn 's leaves were sere , Till all her sister flowers were gone , And her winter sleep drew near . Then her withered leaves were softly spread O'er the sleeping worm below , Ere the faithful little flower lay Beneath the winter snow . Spring came again , and the flowers rose From their quiet winter graves , And gayly danced on their slender stems , And sang with the rippling waves .
Softly the warm winds kissed their cheeks ; Brightly the XXXXX fell , As , one by one , they came again In their summer homes to dwell .
Houstonia brook-side clover-blossom cowslip daisy first morning nook resting-place sunbeams