Classic Poem

Little Rosy Redcheek said unto a clover:
" Flower, why were you made?
I was made for mother,
She has n't any other,
But you were made for no one, I'm afraid. "

Then the clover softly unto Redcheek whispered:
" Pluck me, ere you go. "
Redcheek, little dreaming,
Pulled, and ran off screaming,
" Oh, naughty, naughty flower to sting me so! "

" Foolish one! " the startled bee buzzed crossly,
" Foolish not to see
That I make my honey,
While the day is sunny;
That the pretty little clover lives for me. "