Every flower is a soul blossoming in Nature.

Every flower is a soul blossoming in Nature.

I know not which I love the most,
Nor which the comeliest shows,
The timid, bashful violet
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I know not which I love the most,
Nor which the comeliest shows,
The timid, bashful violet
Or the royal-hearted rose:
The pansy in purple dress,
The pink with cheek of red,
Or the faint, fair heliotrope, who hangs,
Like a bashful maid her head.

Loveliest of lovely things are they On earth, that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour Is read more

Loveliest of lovely things are they On earth, that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour Is prized beyond the sculptured flower.

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.

I hate flowers -- I paint them because they're cheaper than models and they don't move.

I hate flowers -- I paint them because they're cheaper than models and they don't move.

The flower-girl's prayer to buy roses and pinks,
Held out in the smoke, like stars by day.

The flower-girl's prayer to buy roses and pinks,
Held out in the smoke, like stars by day.

Gather the flowers, but spare the buds.

Gather the flowers, but spare the buds.

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.

Mourn, little harebells, o'er the lea;
Ye stately foxgloves fair to see!
Ye woodbines, hanging bonnilie
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Mourn, little harebells, o'er the lea;
Ye stately foxgloves fair to see!
Ye woodbines, hanging bonnilie
In scented bowers!
Ye roses on your thorny tree
The first o' flow'rs.