A flower's life.
"When our babe he goeth walking in his garden
Around his tinkling feet the sunbeams play;
The posies they are good to him
And bow them as they should to him,
As he fareth upon his kingly way:
The birdlings of the wood to him
Make music, gentle music, all the day
When our babe he goeth walking in his garden."–Eugene Field
![19.jpg](https://steemitimages.com/DQmdjs3pnKNm5un1KVMdAfvWhvVLhYMvA1umc8JZhMFcKCw/19.jpg)
nice and lovely flower