DISCONTENT.
Down in a field one day in June, the flowers all bloomed together,
Save one who tried to hide herself, and drooped that pleasant weather.
A robin who had flown too high, and felt a little lazy,
Was resting near this buttercup who wished she was a daisy.
For daisies grow so slim and tall! She always had a passion
For wearing frills about her neck in just the daisies’ fashion.
And buttercups must always be the same old tiresome color;
While daisies dress in gold and white, although their gold is duller.
“Dear Robin,” said the sad young flower, “Perhaps you’d not mind trying
To find a nice white frill for me, some day when you are flying.”
“You silly thing!” the Robin said, “I think you must be crazy;
I’d rather be my honest self, than any made-up daisy.
“You’re nicer in your own bright gown; the little children love you.
Be the best buttercup you can, and think no flower above you.
Though swallows leave me out of sight, we’d better keep our places:
Perhaps the world would all go wrong with one too many daisies.
Look bravely up into the sky and be content with knowing
That God wished for a buttercup, just here where you are growing.”
—Sarah Orne Jewett.