A FLOWER was growing alone,
Then alone and for ever alone:
Some one came by,
Saw the flower how fair it had grown,
Chose it, plucked it to die.
And what is a flower alone,
Then alone and for ever alone,
Come no one by?
Why should a flower be fair for its own?
Choose it, pluck it to die.
Augusta Davies Webster
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-flower-by-the-path/
