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The windflower and the violet, they perished long ago,
And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer read more
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.
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.
Flowers are restful to look at. They have neither emotions nor conflicts.
Flowers are restful to look at. They have neither emotions nor conflicts.
Flowers grow out of dark moments.
Flowers grow out of dark moments.
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.
Mourn, little harebells, o'er the lea;
Ye stately foxgloves fair to see!
Ye woodbines, hanging bonnilie
read more
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.
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.
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.
Art is the unceasing effort to compete with the beauty of flowers - and never succeeding.
Art is the unceasing effort to compete with the beauty of flowers - and never succeeding.