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A root is a flower that disdains fame.
A root is a flower that disdains fame.
A flower, when offered in the bud, is no vain sacrifice.
A flower, when offered in the bud, is no vain sacrifice.
Every flower is a soul blossoming in Nature.
Every flower is a soul blossoming in Nature.
As for marigolds, poppies, hollyhocks, and valorous sunflowers,
we shall never have a garden without them, both for their read more
As for marigolds, poppies, hollyhocks, and valorous sunflowers,
we shall never have a garden without them, both for their own
sake, and for the sake of old-fashioned folks, who used to love
them.
Rose, what is become of thy delicate hue?
And where is the violet's beautiful blue?
Does aught read more
Rose, what is become of thy delicate hue?
And where is the violet's beautiful blue?
Does aught of its sweetness the blossom beguile?
That meadow, those daisies, why do they not smile?
The windflower and the violet, they perished long ago,
And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer read more
The windflower and the violet, they perished long ago,
And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow;
But on the hills the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood,
And the yellow sunflower by the brook, in autumn beauty stood,
Till fell the first from the clear cold heaven, as falls the
plague on men,
And the brightness of their smile was gone, from upland glade and
glen.
And lilies are still lilies, pulled
By smutty hands, though spotted from their white.
And lilies are still lilies, pulled
By smutty hands, though spotted from their white.
Brazen helm of daffodillies,
With a glitter toward the light.
Purple violets for the mouth,
read more
Brazen helm of daffodillies,
With a glitter toward the light.
Purple violets for the mouth,
Breathing perfumes west and south;
And a sword of flashing lilies,
Holden ready for the fight.
Yet here's eglantine,
Here's ivy!--take them as I used to do
Thy flowers, and keep them where read more
Yet here's eglantine,
Here's ivy!--take them as I used to do
Thy flowers, and keep them where they shall not pine.
Instruct thine eyes to keep their colours true,
And tell thy soul their roots are left in mine.
