Flowers

"Kukat ovat hyviä kuuntelijoita. (Pekka Streng, Kesämaa)"

"Underneath large blue-bells tented Where the daisies are rose-scented, And the rose herself has got Perfume which on earth is not."

"A wilderness of sweets."

"Up from the gardens floated the perfume Of roses and myrtle, in their perfect bloom."

"What are the flowers of Scotland, All others that excel? The lovely flowers of Scotland, All others that excel! The thistle's purple bonnet, And bonny heather bell, Oh, they're the flowers of Scotland. All others that excel!"

"And O and O, The daisies blow, And the primroses are waken'd; And the violets white Sit in silver plight, And the green bud's as long as the spike end."

"And touched by her fair tendance, gladlier grew."

"The flower-girl's prayer to buy roses and pinks, Held out in the smoke, like stars by day."

"Rose, what is become of thy delicate hue? And where is the violet's beautiful blue? Does aught of its sweetness the blossom beguile? That meadow, those daisies, why do they not smile?"

"The harebells nod as she passes by, The violet lifts its tender eye, The ferns bend her steps to greet, And the mosses creep to her dancing feet."

"They speak of hope to the fainting heart, With a voice of promise they come and part, They sleep in dust through the wintry hours, They break forth in glory, bring flowers, bright flowers!"

"The daisy is fair, the day-lily rare, The bud o' the rose as sweet as it's bonnie."

"'Tis but a little faded flower, But oh, how fondly dear! 'Twill bring me back one golden hour, Through many a weary year."

"the rose Blendeth its odor with the violet, Solution sweet."

"As for marigolds, poppies, hollyhocks, and valorous sunflowers, we shall never have a garden without them, both for their own sake, and for the sake of old-fashioned folks, who used to love them."

"Take the flower from my breast, I pray thee, Take the flower, too, from out my tresses: And then go hence; for, see, the night is fair, The stars rejoice to watch thee on thy way."

"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."

"Ah, ah, Qytherea! Adonis is dead. She wept tear after tear, with the blood which was shed, , And both turned into flowers for the earth's Her tears, to the wind-flower, his blood, to the rose."

"Who that has loved knows not the tender tale Which flowers reveal, when lips are coy to tell?"

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

"I know not which I love the most, Nor which the comeliest shows, The timid, bashful violet Or the royal-hearted rose: The pansy in her purple dress, The pink with cheek of red, Or the faint, fair heliotrope, who hangs, Like a bashful maid her head."

"And all the meadows, wide unrolled, Were green and silver, green and gold, Where buttercups and daisies spun Their shining tissues in the sun."

"The flowers of the forest are a' wede away."

"Why does the rose her grateful fragrance yield, And yellow cowslips paint the smiling field?"

"Through the laburnum's dropping gold Rose the light shaft of orient mould, And Europe's violets, faintly sweet, Purpled the moss-beds at its feet."

"Faire pledges of a fruitful tree Why do yee fall so fast? Your date is not so past But you may stay yet here awhile To blush and gently smile And go at last."

"I remember, I remember The roses, red and white, The violets, and the lily-cups, Those flowers made of light! The lilacs, where the robin built, And where my brother set The laburnum on his birthday, , The tree is living yet."

"I may not to the world impart The secret of its power, But treasured in my inmost heart I keep my faded flower."

"Growing one's own choice words and fancies In orange tubs, and beds of pansies; One's sighs and passionate declarations, In odorous rhetoric of carnations."

"Roses, and pinks, and violets, to adorn The shrine of Flora in her early May."

"Yet here's eglantine, Here's ivy!, take them as I used to do Thy flowers, and keep them where they shall not pine. Instruct thine eyes to keep their colours true, And tell thy soul their roots are left in mine."

"The bright consummate flower."

"Just then return'd at shut of evening flowers."

"Sweet letters of the angel tongue, I've loved ye long and well, And never have failed in your fragrance sweet To find some secret spell, , A charm that has bound me with witching power, For mine is the old belief, That midst your sweets and midst your bloom, There's a soul in every leaf!"

"Flowers have an expression of countenance as much as men or animals. Some seem to smile; some have a sad expression; some are pensive and diffident; others again are plain, honest and upright, like, the broad-faced sunflower and the hollyhock."

"Flowers are Love's truest language; they betray, Like the divining rods of Magi old, Where precious wealth lies buried, not of gold, But love, strong love, that never can decay!"

"I have loved flowers that fade, Within whose magic tents Rich hues have marriage made With sweet unmemoried scents."

"Brazen helm of daffodillies, With a glitter toward the light. Purple violets for the mouth, Breathing perfumes west and south; And a sword of flashing lilies, Holden ready for the fight."

"The windflower and the violet, they perished long ago, And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow; But on the hills the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood, And the yellow sunflower by the brook, in autumn beauty stood, Till fell the frost from the clear cold heaven, as falls the plague on men, And the brightness of their smile was gone, from upland glade and glen."

"Where fall the tears of love the rose appears, And where the ground is bright with friendship's tears, Forget-me-not, and violets, heavenly blue, Spring glittering with the cheerful drops like dew."

"Mourn, little harebells, o'er the lea; Ye stately foxgloves fair to see! Ye woodbines, hanging bonnilie In scented bowers! Ye roses on your thorny tree The first o' flow'rs."

"Now blooms the lily by the bank, The primrose down the brae; The hawthorn's budding in the glen, And milkwhite is the slae."

"Ye field flowers! the gardens eclipse you 'tis true: Yet wildings of nature, I dote upon you, For ye waft me to summers of old, When the earth teem'd around me with fairy delight, And when daisies and buttercups gladden 'd my sight, Like treasures of silver and gold."

"The berries of the brier rose Have lost their rounded pride: The bitter-sweet chrysanthemums Are drooping heavy-eyed."

"They know the time to go! The fairy clocks strike their inaudible hour In field and woodland, and each punctual flower Bows at the signal an obedient head And hastes to bed."

"Flowers are words Which even a babe may understand."

"Now when the primrose makes a splendid show, And lilies face the March-winds in full blow, And humbler growths as moved with one desire Put on, to welcome spring, their best attire, Poor Robin is yet flowerless; but how gay With his red stalks upon this sunny day!"

"To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears."

"Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose."

"The rose is fragrant, but it fades in time: The violet sweet, but quickly past the prime* White lilies hang their heads, and soon decay, And white snow in minutes melts away."