Classic Poem

The lady walked by the ocean strand
O'er the white sand at the fall of day,
Till a shy red flower stood in her way.
She plucked it, and cast it out of her hand.

She bent down to the gray, forlorn,
Tall thistle that beside it stood.
But this was clad in hardihood,
And through her frail hand drove its thorn.

But she brake it, and walked, and sang a lay,
With tired mouth a tired lay she sang,
Over the darkening bay it rang,
And on the salt wind died away.