Despise Not Simple Things
Despise not simple things:The humblest flower that wakesIn early spring, to scent the airOf woodland brakes,Should have thy love as wellAs blushing parlor rose,That never felt the perfect breathOf nature round it close.[Pg 033]Despise not simple things:The poor demand thy love,As well as those who in the hallsOf splendor move.The beggar at thy doorThou shouldst not e’er despise;For that may be a noble heartWhich ’neath his tatters lies.Despise not little things:An ant can teach of toil;The buttercup can light the heartWith its own pleasant smile;’Tis not from towering heights aloneThe noble thought within us springs;There’s something holy and sublimeIn the love of simple things.
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
