The daisy

I plucked a daisy in the fields,

And there beneath the sun

I let its silver petals fall

One after one.

I said, "He loves me, loves me not,"

And oh, my heart beat fast,

The flower was kind, it let me say

"He loves me," last.

I kissed the little leafless stem,

But oh, my poor heart knew

The words the flower had said to me,

They were not true.