Flowers and Gardens

The Amen! of Nature is always a flower.

The flower has no weekday self, dressed as it always is in Sunday clothes.

Hearts are flowers; they remain open to the softly-falling dew, but shut up in the violent downpour of rain.

Can flowers but droop in absence of the sun, Which waked their sweets?

JUST LIVING IS NOT ENOUGH… ONE MUST HAVE SUNSHINE, FREEDOM, AND A LITTLE FLOWER.

The rainbow comes and goes,

Go, little book, and wish to all

Won’t you come into the garden? I would like my roses to see you.

A Sensitive Plant in a garden grew.

All gardening is landscape-painting.

’Tis the last rose of summer

Not that fair field

Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies,

’Mid hushed, cool-rooted flowers, fragrant-eyed,

Here are sweet peas, on tip-toe for a flight.

‘For cruel ’tis,’ said she,

All a green willow, willow;

Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses,

Kennst du das Land, wo die Zitronen blühn?

If you walk down Piccadilly with a poppy or a lily in your medieval hand.

The flowers that bloom in the spring,

Ash on an old man’s sleeve

And she was fayr as is the rose in May.

Ask me no more where Jove bestows,