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FLOWERS.
Flowers, sweet Flora's children!
How ye sport and spring,
Smiling between bank and brook,
Mossy marge, and woody nook,
Where the linnets sing;
Climbing hedgerow, bush, and brier,
As your spirit ne'er would tire,
Thorough lane and lea:
Full of life, and full of mirth.
Ye alone enjoy the earth,—
Happy children ye!
How ye sport and spring,
Smiling between bank and brook,
Mossy marge, and woody nook,
Where the linnets sing;
Climbing hedgerow, bush, and brier,
As your spirit ne'er would tire,
Thorough lane and lea:
Full of life, and full of mirth.
Ye alone enjoy the earth,—
Happy children ye!
Flowers, sweet Flora's children!
How ye roam and race,
By the valley—up the hill,
With an everchanging will,
Haunting every place;
Hanging half-way down the steep,
Where the wild stag dare not leap,
In your reckless glee;
Or, where snows eternal blanch,
Listening to the avalanche,—
Bold adventurers ye!
How ye roam and race,
By the valley—up the hill,
With an everchanging will,
Haunting every place;
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Where the wild stag dare not leap,
In your reckless glee;
Or, where snows eternal blanch,
Listening to the avalanche,—
Bold adventurers ye!
Flowers, sweet Flora's children!
How ye dance and twine
With the loveliest born of Spring,
Moving in an endless ring—
An exhaustless line!
Sometimes shy and singly seen,
Like some nun, in cloister green,
Offering incense free;
Sometimes over marsh and moor,
Resting by the cottage-door,—
Welcome comers ye!
How ye dance and twine
With the loveliest born of Spring,
Moving in an endless ring—
An exhaustless line!
Sometimes shy and singly seen,
Like some nun, in cloister green,
Offering incense free;
Sometimes over marsh and moor,
Resting by the cottage-door,—
Welcome comers ye!
Flowers, dear Flora's children!
How ye love to meet
Far away from human sound,
Making Nature hallow'd ground—
Even loneness sweet;
Where some fount, 'mid mountain-springs,
Singing falls, and falling sings
In melodious key;
Blooming where no step is heard,
Save the light foot of some bird,—
Favour'd children ye!
How ye love to meet
Far away from human sound,
Making Nature hallow'd ground—
Even loneness sweet;
Where some fount, 'mid mountain-springs,
Singing falls, and falling sings
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Blooming where no step is heard,
Save the light foot of some bird,—
Favour'd children ye!
Flowers, sweet Flora's children!
Loved by moon and star;
Loved by little ramblers lone,
Seated on some grassy stone,—
Many a footstep far!
Loved by all that God hath made,
All that ever watch'd and pray'd:
For ye seem to me,
In your bright and boundless span,
Silent speakers unto man
Of the world to be!
Loved by moon and star;
Loved by little ramblers lone,
Seated on some grassy stone,—
Many a footstep far!
Loved by all that God hath made,
All that ever watch'd and pray'd:
For ye seem to me,
In your bright and boundless span,
Silent speakers unto man
Of the world to be!
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