Flowers and the Plants They Grow on

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Página 10 - Our outward life requires them not — Then wherefore had they birth ? — To minister delight to man, To beautify the earth ; To comfort man — to whisper hope, Whene'er his faith is dim, For who so careth for the flowers Will much more care for him ! Mary Howitt.
Página 105 - FLOWER in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower — but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is.
Página 13 - PANSIES, lilies, kingcups, daisies, Let them live upon their praises ; Long as there's a sun that sets, Primroses will have their glory ; Long as there are violets, They will have a place in story : There's a flower that shall be mine, 'Tis the little Celandine.
Página 28 - Thrice welcome, darling of the spring! Even yet thou art to me No bird, but an invisible thing, A voice, a mystery; The same whom in my schoolboy days I listened to; that cry Which made me look a thousand ways In bush, and tree, and sky.
Página 226 - The saints above are stars in Heaven — What are the saints on earth ? Like trees they stand whom God has given, Our Eden's happy birth. Faith is their fixed unswerving root, Hope their unfading flower, Fair deeds of charity their fruit, The glory of their bower.
Página 38 - Ordered by an Intelligence so wise As might confound the atheist's sophistries. Below a circling fence its leaves are seen, Wrinkled and keen ; No grazing cattle through their prickly round Can reach to wound ; But, as they grow where nothing is to fear, Smooth and unarmed the pointless leaves appear. I love to view these things with curious eyes And moralize ; And, in this wisdom of the holly-tree, Can emblems see, Wherewith perchance to make a pleasant rhyme, One which may profit in the after-time.
Página 13 - Thou dost show thy pleasant face On the moor, and in the wood, In the lane : — there's not a place, Howsoever mean it be, But 'tis good enough for thee.
Página 28 - To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green; And thou wert still a hope, a love; Still longed for, never seen.
Página 1 - Ye dwell beside our paths and homes, Our paths of sin, our homes of sorrow; And guilty man, where'er he roams, Your innocent mirth may borrow. The birds of air before us fleet, They cannot brook our shame to meet ; But we may taste your solace sweet, And come again to-morrow. Ye fearless in your nests abide ; Nor may we scorn, too proudly wise, Your silent lessons, undescried By all but lowly eyes : For ye could draw th...
Página 91 - Binding the yellow sheaves ; And, at this very hour, I seem To be with Joseph in his dream. I see the fields of Bethlehem, And reapers many a one, Bending unto their sickles' stroke, And Boaz looking on ; . And Ruth, the Moabitess fair, Among the gleaners, stooping there.

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