A Lowly Flower

A flowering grass I rise From the side of a far-spread lake, Whose waters lave and fertilize, And all my thirsty tissues slake. The dews of Spring with gentle power Evolve my glossy emerald leaves; The colours of my fragrant flower The rime of early Autumn weaves. And yet in trembling fear I grow, Lest root and stem should be uptorn By sudden storm or rushing flow, And leave me helpless and forlorn. So here contented will I lie, Although a plant of humble birth; Nor try to soar to realms on high Above the confines of the earth. For never yet has living soul By strength or wisdom changed his fate; All things are under heaven's control, Who allocates to each his state.