Feet, whence did you come, you darling things?
From the same box as the cherubs’ wings.
How did they all come just to be you?
God thought of me and so I grew.
But how did you come to us, you dear?
God thought of you, and so I am here.
—George Macdonald.
THE LITTLE PLANT.
In the heart of a seed, buried deep, so deep,
A dear little plant lay fast asleep.