I ran along the daisy-field;
It made the daisies dip and yield
And leave a path where I went by —
They nearly were as tall as I.
The sky was blue and smooth and bright,
With little clouds all fluffy white.
And every time the breeze would blow
The daisies rippled in a row.
I gathered all that I could pull,
Until my pinafore was full;
But still it stood up white and wide,
The daisy-field on every side!
by Margaret Widdemer
From Harrington, “Ring-a-Round” (Macmillan)
as quoted in The Horn Book, August 1930, Vol.6, No.3, p.195.