that day, And each daisy white, so white;
Oh! I knew that no more could
rains fall gray, And night again be night.
I knew! I knew! Well, if night is night,
And the gray skies grayly cry,
I have in a book, for the candle light,
A daisy, dead and dry.
Published in Opportunity, September 1925
Also published in Caroling Dusk, 1927