But when they had unloosed the linen band,
Which swathed the Egyptian's body,—lol was found,
Closed in the wasted hollow of her hand,
A little seed, which, sown in English ground,
Did wondrous snow of starry blossoms bear,
And spread rich odours through our springtide air.
The very flowers are sacred to the poor.
To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often he too deep for tears.
And 'tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
The flower of sweetest smell is shy and lowly.
Hope smiled when your nativity was cast,
Children of Summer!
The mysteries that cups of flowers infold
And'all the gorgeous sights which fairies do behold.
There bloomed the strawberry of the wilderness;
The trembling eyebright showed her sapphire blue,
The thyme her purple, like the blush of Even;
And if the breath of some to no caress
Invited, forth they peeped so fair to view,
All kinds alike seemed favourites of Heaven.
Pansies, lilies, kingcups, daisies,
Let them live upon their praises.
FLOWER-DE-LUCE
Iris
Born in the purple, born to joy and pleasance,
Thou dost not toil nor spin,
But makest glad and radiant with thy presence
The meadow and the lin.
Oflower-de-luce, bloom on, and let the river
Linger to kiss thy feet!
O flower of song, bloom on, and make forever
The world more fair and sweet.
Lilies of all kinds,
The flower-de-luce being one!
FLY
We see spiders, flies, or ants entombed and preserved forever in amber, a more than royal tomb.
It was prettily devised of Æseop: The fly sat
upon the axle-tree of the chariot-wheel, and said,
What a dust do I raise!
We see how flies, and spiders, and the like, get a sepulchre in amber, more durable than the monument and embalming of the body of any king.
Haceos miel, y paparos han moscas.
Make yourself honey and the flies will devour you.
The fly that sips treacle is lost in the sweets.
To a boiling pot flies come not.
I saw a flie within a beade
Of amber cleanly buried.
The Lord shall hiss for the fly that is in the uttermost part of the rivers of Egypt.
A fly sat on the chariot wheel
And said "what a dust I raise."
Busy, curious, thirsty fry,
Drink with me and drink as I!
Freely welcome to my cup,
Could'st thou sip and sip it up;
Make the most of life you may;
Life is short and wears away.
Oh! that the memories which survive us here
Were half so lovely as these wings of thine!
Pure relics of a blameless life, that shine
Now thou art gone.
Baby bye
Here's a fly.
Let us watch him. you and I,
How he crawls
Up the walls
Yet he never falls.