INTRODUCTORY VERSES.
7
THE
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Earth hath a thousand tongues, that swell
In converse soft, and low—
We hear them in the flowery dell,
And where the waters flow.
We note them when the pliant reed
Bends to the summer air,
Its low-toned music gently freed
By the soft breezes there;
And angels from their starry height,
On hills, and dales, and green banks write.
In converse soft, and low—
We hear them in the flowery dell,
And where the waters flow.
We note them when the pliant reed
Bends to the summer air,
Its low-toned music gently freed
By the soft breezes there;
And angels from their starry height,
On hills, and dales, and green banks write.
There is a language in each flower
That opens to the eye,
A voiceless—but a magic power,
Doth in earth’s blossoms lie;
The flowering Almond, first to bring
Its perfume to the breeze,
The earliest at the call of spring,
Among the green-clad trees,
Whispers of Indiscretion’s fate,
Trusting too soon—convinced too late.
That opens to the eye,
A voiceless—but a magic power,
Doth in earth’s blossoms lie;
The flowering Almond, first to bring
Its perfume to the breeze,
The earliest at the call of spring,
Among the green-clad trees,
Whispers of Indiscretion’s fate,
Trusting too soon—convinced too late.
