The sun sent down its beams to receive the flower's message.
"Thank you, wind,—good wind," said the little flower.
"Thank you, sun,—good sun,—you have saved my life."
"Thank not us," said the sun and the wind; "thank the good God. He saw you dying; He heard you sighing, He took pity on you. We, sun and winds and clouds and falling raindrops are only the givers of His bounty."
And the flower breathed a prayer of thanks to the great and good God.
PANSIES
Pansies! pansies! How I love you, pansies,
Jaunty-faced, laughing-lipped and dewy-eyed with glee;
Would my song might blossom out in little five-leaved stanzas
As delicate in fancies,