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.
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They know the time to go!
The fairy clocks strike their inaudible hour
In field and woodland, read more
They know the time to go!
The fairy clocks strike their inaudible hour
In field and woodland, and each punctual flower
Bows at the signal an obedient head
And hastens to bed.
Mama was my greatest teacher, a teacher of compassion, love and fearlessness. If love is sweet as a flower, then read more
Mama was my greatest teacher, a teacher of compassion, love and fearlessness. If love is sweet as a flower, then my mother is that sweet flower of love.
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.
Flowers are restful to look at. They have neither emotions nor conflicts.
Flowers are restful to look at. They have neither emotions nor conflicts.
A wedding is just like a funeral except that you get to smell your own flowers.
A wedding is just like a funeral except that you get to smell your own flowers.
A flower, when offered in the bud, is no vain sacrifice.
A flower, when offered in the bud, is no vain sacrifice.
Ye field flowers! the gardens eclipse you 'tis true:
Yet wildings of nature, I dote upon you,
read more
Ye field flowers! the gardens eclipse you 'tis true:
Yet wildings of nature, I dote upon you,
For ye waft me to summers of old,
When the earth teem'd around me with fairy delight,
And when daisies and buttercups gladden'd my sight,
Like treasures of silver and gold.
The happy bells shall ring Marguerite;
The summer birds shall sing Marguerite;
You smile but you shall read more
The happy bells shall ring Marguerite;
The summer birds shall sing Marguerite;
You smile but you shall wear
Orange blossoms in your hair, Marguerite.
A root is a flower that disdains fame.
A root is a flower that disdains fame.
