You May Also Like / View all maxioms
Ah, ah, Cytherea! Adonis is dead.
She wept tear after tear, with the blood which was shed,--
read more
Ah, ah, Cytherea! Adonis is dead.
She wept tear after tear, with the blood which was shed,--
And both turned into flowers for the earth's garden-close;
Her tears, to the wind-flower,--his blood, to the rose.
Beauty, unaccompanied by virtue, is as a flower without perfume.
Beauty, unaccompanied by virtue, is as a flower without perfume.
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.
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.
If we plant a flower or a shrub and water it daily it will grow so tall that in time read more
If we plant a flower or a shrub and water it daily it will grow so tall that in time we shall need a spade and a hoe to uproot it. It is just so, I think, when we commit a fault, however small, each day, and do not cure ourselves of it.
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.
Every flower is a soul blossoming in Nature.
Every flower is a soul blossoming in Nature.
By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower.
By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower.
Now blooms the lily by the bank,
The primrose down the brae;
The hawthorn's budding in the read more
Now blooms the lily by the bank,
The primrose down the brae;
The hawthorn's budding in the glen,
The milkwhite is the slae.