HE rich men have their gardens,
With blossoms rare and sweet,
Where lilies bloom, and roses
And honeysuckles meet;
And flowers that are the choicest
Within their grounds are seen,
I only have the blossoms
That grow upon the green.
But I think God made the daisies,
That are so fair to see,
Just for the little children—
The little ones like me.
The nobles have their paintings
That hang upon the walls,
Of wealthy lords and ladies,
And vales and waterfalls,
And soldiers out at battle,
And sailors on the deep;
I only look on fields and lanes.
And flowers that wake and sleep,
But I think God made the fields and hills,
And the bright blue sky I see
As pictures for the children—
The little ones like me.