There is a gift that is hidden here
Among these trees of twisted pine
And although it be so very rare
It does exist that I might find

It is not gold or precious stones
Which hide below, that I not see
For there it is... just a head
It grows at the base of an ancient tree

So very rare, this flower in bloom
On this warm summer day to find
That grows out of the needles here
Which fall from this most ancient pine

And what is the name this flower to take
That finds its home beneath this tree
It is the wild snapdragon... She grows
In all her loveliness, my eyes do see

 Robert Smith