Hath nurtured them with summer showers
And watered them with dew.
To-day, a thousand blossoms fair,
From sunny slope and sheltered glade,
With grateful incense fill the air—
To-morrow they shall fade.
But thou shalt live when sinks in night
Yon glorious sun, and shall not He
Who hath the flowers so richly dight,
Much rather care for thee?