`` Nothing but a little song I heard the hare-bells singing , '' replied the Fairy , and , taking her harp , sang , in a low , sweet voice : -- THE FLOWER 'S LESSON . THERE grew a fragrant rose-tree where the brook flows , With two little tender buds , and one full rose ; When the sun went down to his bed in the west , The little buds leaned on the rose-mother 's breast , While the bright eyed stars their long watch kept , And the flowers of the valley in their green cradles slept ; Then silently in odors they communed with each other , The two little buds on the bosom of their mother . `` O sister , '' said the little one , as she gazed at the sky , `` I wish that the Dew Elves , as they wander lightly by , Would bring me a star ; for they never grow dim , And the Father does not need them to burn round him . The shining drops of dew the Elves bring each day And place in my bosom , so soon pass away ; But a star would glitter brightly through the long summer hours , And I should be fairer than all my sister flowers . That were better far than the dew-drops that fall On the high and the low , and come alike to all . I would be fair and stately , with a bright star to shine And give a queenly air to this crimson robe of mine . '' And proudly she cried , `` These fire-flies shall be My jewels , since the stars can never come to me . '' Just then a tiny dew-drop that hung o'er the dell On the breast of the bud like a soft star fell ; But impatiently she flung it away from her leaf , And it fell on her mother like a tear of grief , While she folded to her breast , with wilful pride , A glittering fire-fly that hung by her side . `` Heed , '' said the mother rose , `` daughter mine , Why shouldst thou seek for beauty not thine ? The Father hath made thee what thou now art ; And what he most loveth is a sweet , pure heart . Then why dost thou take with such discontent The loving gift which he to thee hath sent ? For the cool fresh dew will render thee far More lovely and sweet than the brightest star ; They were made for Heaven , and can never come to shine Like the fire-fly thou hast in that foolish breast of thine . O my foolish little bud , do listen to thy mother ; Care only for true beauty , and seek for no other . There will be grief and trouble in that wilful little heart ; Unfold thy leaves , my daughter , and let the fly depart . '' But the proud little bud would have her own will , And folded the fire-fly more closely still ; Till the struggling insect tore open the vest Of purple and green , that covered her breast . When the sun came up , she saw with grief The blooming of her sister bud leaf by leaf . While she , once as fair and bright as the rest , Hung her weary head down on her wounded breast . Bright grew the sunshine , and the soft summer air Was filled with the music of flowers singing there ; But faint grew the little bud with thirst and pain , And longed for the cool dew ; but now ' t was in vain . Then bitterly she wept for her folly and pride , As drooping she stood by her fair sister 's side . Then the rose mother leaned the weary little head On her bosom to rest , and tenderly she said : `` Thou hast learned , my little bud , that , whatever may betide , Thou canst win thyself no joy by passion or by pride .
The loving XXXXX sends the sunshine and the shower , That thou mayst become a perfect little flower ; -- The sweet dews to feed thee , the soft wind to cheer , And the earth as a pleasant home , while thou art dwelling here .
Elves Father burn day dew-drops fall fire-flies hours rose-mother shouldst