Jean Ingelow

And O the buttercups! that field
O' the cloth of gold, when pennons swam--
Where France set read more

And O the buttercups! that field
O' the cloth of gold, when pennons swam--
Where France set up his lilied shield,
His oriflamb,
And Henry's lion-standard rolled:
What was it to their matchless sheen,
Their million million drops of gold
Among the green!

And old affront will stir the heart
Through years of rankling pain.

And old affront will stir the heart
Through years of rankling pain.

I have lived to thank God that all my prayers have not been answered.

I have lived to thank God that all my prayers have not been answered.

Man is the miracle in nature. God
Is the One Miracle to man. Behold,
"There is a read more

Man is the miracle in nature. God
Is the One Miracle to man. Behold,
"There is a God," thou sayest. Thou sayest well:
In that thou sayest all. To Be is more
Of wonderful, than being, to have wrought,
Or reigned, or rested.

The moon looks upon many night flowers; the night flowers see but one moon.

The moon looks upon many night flowers; the night flowers see but one moon.