Pluck not the wayside flower, br It is the traveller's dower; br A thousand passers-by br Its beauties may espy, br May win a touch of blessing br From Nature's mild caressing. br The sad of heart perceives br A violet under leaves br Like sonic fresh-budding hope; br The primrose on the slope br A spot of sunshine dwells, br And cheerful message tells br Of kind renewing power; br The nodding bluebell's dye br Is drawn from happy sky. br Then spare the wayside flower! br It is the traveller's dower.