Dome of Many-Coloured Glass — Fringed Gentians

Fringed Gentians Near where I live there is a lake As blue as blue can be, winds make It dance as they go blowing by.

I think it curtseys to the sky.

It's just a lake of lovely flowers And my Mamma says they are ours;

But they are not like those we grow To be our very own, you know.

We have a splendid garden, there Are lots of flowers everywhere;

Roses, and pinks, and four o'clocks And hollyhocks, and evening stocks.

Mamma lets us pick them, but never Must we pick any gentians -- ever!

For if we carried them away They'd die of homesickness that day.