IT was only a blossom, 

Just the merest bit of bloom, 

But it brought a glimpse of summer 

To the little darkened room. 

It was only a glad "good morning," 

As she passed along the way; 

But it spread the morning's glory 

Over all the livelong day. 


A song; but the music, 

Though simple, pure, and sweet, 

Brought back to better pathways 

The reckless, roving feet. 


In our blind wisdom 

How dare we say at all 

Since the ages alone can tell us 

Which is the great or small.