Come, my love, let us while away the time with a tale.
Amusement and learning make their bed together
And their issue behooves the heedful listener.
You have heard it said that love is a rose,
But I tell you, life is a daffodil;
Begun underground in the dust and grime
With worms as its only friends.
Then fast comes the spring with its warmth and dew
The bud peeps out of its bed.
When touched by the sun, she sheds death's robe,
Born anew to the wonder of man.
Two ruffled tiers, blown by her Creator
Reach toward heaven's prize.
Transient and unable to stand alone,
To live this blossom must die.
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