WE are the roadside flowers, <br />Straying from garden grounds, — <br />Lovers of idle hours, <br />Breakers of ordered bounds. <br />If only the earth will feed us, <br />If only the wind be kind, <br />We blossom for those who need us, <br />The stragglers left behind. <br />And lo, the Lord of the Garden, <br />He makes his sun to rise, <br />And his rain to fall like pardon <br />On our dusty paradise. <br />On us he has laid the duty, — <br />The task of the wandering breed,— <br />To better the world with beauty, <br />Wherever the way may lead. <br />Who shall inquire of the season, <br />Or question the wind where it blows? <br />We blossom and ask no reason. <br />The Lord of the Garden knows.<br /><br />Bliss William Carman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/roadside-flowers/
