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Flowers grow out of dark moments.
Flowers grow out of dark moments.
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.
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.
Beauty, unaccompanied by virtue, is as a flower without perfume.
Beauty, unaccompanied by virtue, is as a flower without perfume.
Ye field flowers! the gardens eclipse you 'tis true:
Yet wildings of nature, I dote upon you,
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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.
Where fall the tears of love the rose appears,
And where the ground is bright with friendship's tears,
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Where fall the tears of love the rose appears,
And where the ground is bright with friendship's tears,
Forget-me-not, and violets, heavenly blue,
Spring glittering with the cheerful drops like dew.
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.
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.
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.