 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
THE POESY OF FLOWERS
What would the rosey be but as the roseA merely sweet undignifying flower
But cloathed by womans dignifying grace
It looks upon us with a living power
Then quickly every blush from beauty glows
As mirrors—there reflecting beautys face
Her lips & luscious cheeks shine in its leaves
& in the lily—there her bosom heaves
Flowers thus personify the hearts delight
& beauty gives us rapture in their sight
Flowers merely flowers—would seem but cold esteems
With heart-associations & love-dreams
But mixed like life with mind—where ere we roam
They link like houshold feelings with our home
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |