Ah, ah, Cytherea! Adonis is dead.
She wept tear after tear, with the blood which was shed,--
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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.

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 snowdrop and primrose our woodlands adorn,
And violets bathe in the wet o' the morn.

The snowdrop and primrose our woodlands adorn,
And violets bathe in the wet o' the morn.

Gather the flowers, but spare the buds.

Gather the flowers, but spare the buds.

Flowers grow out of dark moments.

Flowers grow out of dark moments.

Every flower is a soul blossoming in Nature.

Every flower is a soul blossoming in Nature.

The earth laughs in flowers.

The earth laughs in flowers.

Thick on the woodland floor
Gay company shall be,
Primrose and Hyacinth
And frail read more

Thick on the woodland floor
Gay company shall be,
Primrose and Hyacinth
And frail Anemone,
Perennial Strawberry-bloom,
Woodsorrel's pencilled veil,
Dishevel'd Willow-weed
And Orchis purple and pale.

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.