“Look at that Daffodil over there,” said he, “see how gloomy he looks, and the Amaranth is trying to cheer him up. I’ll make a verse about him—if you are fond of poetry?”
“Yes, very,” said the Pansy.
“Then listen to this,” said Rhymo, “and remember it, for it is worth remembering:
“A Daffodil walked past in gloom,
And a friar’s coat his form encased;
He boasted Mediterranean birth,
The lawn with solemn mien he paced.
“The Amaranth took him by the hand,
And whispered words of faith and cheer:
‘Another glorious world awaits