Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Why the Daisies Are Not All White

Uncle Rob says:
Once the daisies all were white,
Till a baby fellow
Ate his supper down one night,
And stained his face all yellow.
 
 
Smeared with butter, off to bed
Crept the sleepy flower.
‘Fie!’ the good nurse dew-drop said,
Come now to my bower.
 
 
‘Let me wash you clean, I pray,
Like the pink and rosy.’
But the daisy pulled away
Like a stubborn posy.
All unwashed he went to sleep,
Naughty little fellow.
Ever since he’s had to keep
That great patch of yellow.
So Uncle Rob says.
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