A drop of dew that on a rose-bud clings,
A ray of sunshine in a world of Springs,
A bird, who singing from some hidden tree,
Is bathed in streams of endless melody,
An open flower you trod on as you passed,
The purple shadow that your passing cast,
A breath of wind that lingered on your brow,
An emerald leaf fresh shaken from the bough,
A smile of hope on lips that you delight,
A grateful word from one whom you requite
For some small service, or a little sigh
That fans your senses as it flutters by,
These things to you how much they mean!
While I?. . . . . . . . .
