THE ROSE aloft in sunny air, <br />Beloved alike by bird and bee, <br />Takes for the dark Root little care <br />That toils below it ceaselessly. <br /> <br />I put my question to the flower: <br />“Pride of the Summer, garden queen, <br />Why livest thou thy little hour?” <br />And the Rose answered, “I am seen.” <br /> <br />I put my question to the Root. <br />“I mine the earth content,” it said, <br />“A hidden miner underfoot: <br />I know a Rose is overhead.”<br /><br />John James Piatt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rose-and-root/
