Flowers

"Jasmine is sweet, and has many loves."

"Jas in the Arab language is despair, And Min the darkest meaning of a lie. Thus cried the Jessamine among the flowers, How justly doth a lie Draw on its head despair! Among the fragrant spirits of the bowers The boldest and the strongest still was I. Although so fair, Therefore from Heaven A stronger perfume unto me was given Than any blossom of the summer hours."

"Among the flowers no perfume is like mine; That which is best in me comes from within. So those in this world who would rise and shine Should seek internal excellence to win. And though 'tis true that falsehood and despair Meet in my name, yet bear it still in mind That where they meet they perish. All is fair When they are gone and nought remains behind."

"And the jasmine flower in her fair young breast, (O the faint, sweet smell of that jasmine flower!) And the one bird singing alone to his nest. And the one star over the tower."

"It smelt so faint, and it smelt so sweet, It made me creep and it made me cold. Like the scent that steals from the crumbling sheet Where a mummy is half unroll'd."

"Out in the lonely woods the jasmine burns Its fragrant lamps, and turns Into a royal court with green festoons The banks of dark lagoons."

"…The thornless lilacs summon up no dread, Demand no witness. Flower, branch, and leaf Are only what they are. They have no words For us to ponder, though we sometimes feign To speak for them, as augury of birds Construes an omen of impending pain."

"The lilac spread Odorous essence."

"Go down to Kew in lilac-time, in lilac-time, in lilac-time; Go down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn't far from London). And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer's wonderland; Go down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn't far from London)."

"I am thinking of the lilac-trees, That shook their purple plumes, And when the sash was open, Shed fragrance through the room."

"The purple clusters load the lilac-bushes."

"When lilacs last in the door-yard bloom'd, And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night, I mourn'd—and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring."

"With every leaf a miracle … and from this bush in the door-yard, With delicate-colour'd blossoms, and heart-shaped leaves of rich green A sprig, with its flower, I break."

"Love lies bleeding in the bed whereover Roses lean with smiling mouths or pleading: Earth lies laughing where the sun's dart clove her: Love lies bleeding."

"This flower that first appeared as summer's guest Preserves her beauty 'mid autumnal leaves And to her mournful habits fondly cleaves."

"Fragrant o'er all the western groves The tall magnolia towers unshaded."

"Majestic flower! How purely beautiful Thou art, as rising from thy bower of green, Those dark and glossy leaves so thick and full, Thou standest like a high-born forest queen Among thy maidens clustering round so fair;— I love to watch thy sculptured form unfolding, And look into thy depths, to image there A fairy cavern; and while thus beholding, And while the breeze floats o'er thee, matchless flower, I breathe the perfume, delicate and strong, That comes like incense from thy petal-bower, My fancy roams those southern woods along, Beneath that glorious tree, where deep among The unsunned leaves thy large white flower-cups hung!"

"I wake to "magnolias sweet and fresh", Lines of poetry on my breath, You were here but you have stolen away. My inspiration is an evening star, So come to me wherever you are, I will wait for you tonight alone in the dark…"

"Lush orbs of rose and cream Unfurl like lotus blooms, Luxuriant, and stream Soft, sensuous perfumes."

"And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes."

"Here's flowers for you: Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram: The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun, And with him rises weeping."

"The marigold, whose courtier's face Echoes the sun, and doth unlace Her at his rise, at his full stop Packs and shuts up her gaudy shop."

"The marigold abroad her leaves doth spread, Because the sun's and her power is the same."

"No marigolds yet closed are, No shadows great appeare."

"Open afresh your round of starry folds, Ye ardent marigolds! Dry up the moisture from your golden lips."

"The sun-observing marigold."

"Nor shall the marigold unmentioned die, Which Acis once found out in Sicily; She Phoebus loves, and from him draws his hue, And ever keeps his golden beams in view."

"When with a serious musing I behold The graceful and obsequious marigold, How duly every morning she displays Her open breast, when Titan spreads his rays."

"The seal and guerdon of wealth untold We clasp in the wild marsh marigold."

"Fair is the marigold, for pottage meet."

"A little marsh-plant, yellow green, And prick'd at lip with tender red, Tread close, and either way you tread, Some faint black water jets between Lest you should bruise the curious head."

"With careless joy we thread the woodland ways And reach her broad domain. Thro' sense of strength and beauty, free as air. We feel our savage kin, And thus alone with conscious meaning wear The Indian's moccasin!"

"Not to the sunny hours That waken other flowers, Dost thou fling forth the odour of thy sighing But in the time of gloom, Is yielded thy perfume, Like Love, that lives when all beside is dying."

"Not a flower But shows some touch, in freckle, streak or stain, Of his unrivall'd pencil."

"As for mortal man, his days are like those of green grass;"

"How cruel of you. What part of what you see here is carefree? If only you could understand the sadness of the ones who grow the delicate flowers of buffoonery, protecting them from but the slightest gust of wind and always on the verge of despair!"

"But the flower leaned aside And thought of naught to say, And morning found the breeze A hundred miles away."

"There grew a little flower 'Neath a great oak tree: When the tempest 'gan to lower Little heeded she: No need had she to cower, For she dreaded not its power – She was happy in the bower Of her great oak tree! Of her great oak tree! Sing hey, Lackaday! Sing hey, Lackaday! Let the tears fall free For the pretty little flower And the great oak tree!"

"The flower is the poetry of reproduction. It is an example of the eternal seductiveness of life."

"Full many a flower is born to blush unseen And waste its sweetness on the desert air."

"Gather ye Rose-buds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying; And this same flower that smiles to-day, To-morrow will be dying."

"Go, happy rose, and, interwove With other flowers, bind my love. Tell her, too, she must not be Longer flowing, longer free, That so oft has fetter'd me."

"Yellow japanned buttercups and star-disked dandelions, just as we see them lying in the grass, like sparks that have leaped from the kindling sun of summer."

"Above his head Four lily stalks did their white honours wed To make a coronal; and round him grew All tendrils green, of every bloom and hue, Together intertwined and trammell'd fresh; The vine of glossy sprout; the ivy mesh, Shading its Ethiop berries."

"Young playmates of the rose and daffodil, Be careful ere ye enter in, to fill Your baskets high With fennel green, and balm, and golden pines Savory latter-mint, and columbines."

"I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head."

"One thing is certain and the rest is lies; The Flower that once has blown for ever dies."

"There were flowers in her hair Like an April diadem;"

"It is so wrong to think of the beauty of flowers only when they are at their height of blooming; bud and half developed flower, fading blossom and seed pod are as lovely, and often more interesting."

"Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the way, Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold, First pledge of blithesome May, Which children pluck, and, full of pride uphold."