Pansy and nazuna

But there is a tree,of many one. A single field which I have looked upon.both of them speak of something that is gone.The pansy at my feet ,doth the same tale repeat.whither is fled the visionary gleam?where is it now,the glory and the dream?

Wordsworth mentions a pansy,the pansy is full of colors,not all like nazuna.

Flower in the crannied wall,I pluck you out of the crannies.I hold you here,root and all in my hand.Little flower but if I could understand what you are,root and all,and all,and all,I should know what god and man is.

In the first place,he would never think of mercilessly plucking the poor nazuna with "its root and all" and holding it in hand and asking a question.

When he saw the white flowered nazuna,so humbly,so innocently,and yet with all its individually,growing among other vegetation.he at once realized that the herb was no other than himself.

Thanks and always tc..❤❤