Maxioms by Jean Ingelow
And O the buttercups! that field
O' the cloth of gold, when pennons swam--
Where France set read more
And O the buttercups! that field
O' the cloth of gold, when pennons swam--
Where France set up his lilied shield,
His oriflamb,
And Henry's lion-standard rolled:
What was it to their matchless sheen,
Their million million drops of gold
Among the green!
Against her ankles as she trod
The lucky buttercups did nod.
Against her ankles as she trod
The lucky buttercups did nod.
The moon looks upon many night flowers; the night flowers see but
one moon.
The moon looks upon many night flowers; the night flowers see but
one moon.
Her face betokened all things dear and good, The light of somewhat yet to come was there Asleep, and waiting read more
Her face betokened all things dear and good, The light of somewhat yet to come was there Asleep, and waiting for the opening day, When childish thoughts, like flowers would drift away.
How gently rock yon poplars high
Against the reach of primrose sky
With heaven's pale candles stored.
How gently rock yon poplars high
Against the reach of primrose sky
With heaven's pale candles stored.
