Men saw the blush and called it Dawn.

FLOWER IN THE CRANNIED WALL

By Lord Tennyson

Flower in the crannied wall,

I pluck you out of the crannies,

I hold you here, root and all, in my hand,

Little flower—but if I could understand

What you are, root and all, and all in all,

I should know what God and man is.

THE WORKER’S GUERDON