Flowers
Spake full well, in language quaint and olden,
One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine,
When he called the flowers, so blue and golden,
Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine.
Stars they are, wherein we read our history,
As astrologers and seers of eld;
Yet not wrapped about with awful mystery,
Like the burning stars, which they beheld.
Wondrous truths, and manifold as wondrous,
God hath written in those stars above;
But not less in the bright flowerets under us
Stands the revelation of his love.
Bright and glorious is that revelation,
Written all over this great world of ours;
Making evident our own creation,
In these stars of earth, these golden flowers.
And the Poet, faithful and far-seeing,
Sees, alike in stars and flowers, a part
Of the self-same, universal being,
Which is throbbing in his brain and heart.
Gorgeous flowerets in the sunlight shining,
Blossoms flaunting in the eye of day,
Tremulous leaves, with soft and silver lining,
Buds that open only to decay;
Brilliant hopes, all woven in gorgeous tissues,
Flaunting gayly in the golden light;
Large desires, with most uncertain issues,
Tender wishes, blossoming at night!
These in flowers and men are more than seeming;
Workings are they of the self-same powers,
Which the Poet, in no idle dreaming,
Seeth in himself and in the flowers.
Everywhere about us are they glowing,
Some like stars, to tell us Spring is born;
Others, their blue eyes with tears o'er-flowing,
Stand like Ruth amid the golden corn;
Not alone in Spring's armorial bearing,
And in Summer's green-emblazoned field,
But in arms of brave old Autumn's wearing,
In the centre of his brazen shield;
Not alone in meadows and green alleys,
On the mountain-top, and by the brink
Of sequestered pools in woodland valleys,
Where the slaves of nature stoop to drink;
Not alone in her vast dome of glory,
Not on graves of bird and beast alone,
But in old cathedrals, high and hoary,
On the tombs of heroes, carved in stone;
In the cottage of the rudest peasant,
In ancestral homes, whose crumbling towers,
Speaking of the Past unto the Present,
Tell us of the ancient Games of Flowers;
In all places, then, and in all seasons,
Flowers expand their light and soul-like wings,
Teaching us, by most persuasive reasons,
How akin they are to human things.
And with childlike, credulous affection
We behold their tender buds expand;
Emblems of our own great resurrection,
Emblems of the bright and better land.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Voices Of The Night : Flowers
Spake full well, in language quaint and olden,
One who dwelleth by the Castle Rhine,
When he called the flowers, so blue and golden
Stars, that in the earth's firmament do shine.
Stars they are, wherein we do read our history
As astrologers and seers of eld;
Yet not wrapped about with awful mystery,
Like the burning stars, which they beheld.
Wonderous truths, and manifold as wonderous,
God has written in those stars above;
But not less in the bright flowers under us
Stands the revelation of his love.
Bright and glorious is that revelation,
Written all over this great world of ours;
Making evident our own creation,
In these stars of earth, these golden flowers.
And the Poet, faithful and far-seeing,
Sees, alike in stars and flowers, a part
Of the self-same, universal being,
Which is throbbing in his brain and heart.
Gorgeous flowerets in the sunlight shining,
Blossoms flaunting the bright of day,
Tremulous leaves, with soft and silver lining,
Buds that open only to decay.
Brilliant hopes, all woven in gorgeous tissues,
Flaunting gayly in the golden light;
Large desires, with most uncertain isssues,
Tender wishes, blossoming at night!
These in flowers and men are more than seeming;
Workings are they of the self-same powers,
Which the Poet, in no idle dreaming,
Seeith in himself and in the flowers.
Everywhere about us are they glowing,
Some like stars, to tell us Spring is born;
Others, their blue eyes with tears o'erflowing,
Stand like Ruth amid the golden corn;
Not alone in Spring's armorial beaing,
And in Summer's green-emblazoned field,
But in the arms of brave old Autumn's wearing,
In the centre of his brazen shield;
Not alone in meadows and green alleys,
On the mountain-top, and by the brink
Of sequestered pools in woodland valleys,
Where the slaves of nature stoop to drink;
Not alone in her vast dome of glory,
Not on graves of bird and beast alone,
But in old cathedrals, high and hoary,
On the tombs of heroes, carved in stone.
In the cottage of the rudest peasant,
In ancestral homes, whose crumbling towers,
Speaking of the Past unto the Present,
Tell us of the ancient Games of Flowers;
In all places, then, and in all seasons,
Flowers expand their light and soul-like wings,
Teaching us, by most persuasive reasons,
How akin they are to human things.
And with child-like, credulous affection
We behold their tender buds expand;
Emblems of our own great resurrection.
Emblems of the bright and better land.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Excelsior
When the moon is full and bright
And its charm is falling down,
Every roof you see in town
Is a puddle filled with light.
In the night that's looking blue
Silver rain superbly shines,
Like a dream of lofty rhymes,
Lovely tunes, and whispers, too.
From the starry worlds on high
Magic comes now here below
And envelops nice and slow
The sad valley of the cry.
When the golden dust is great,
Flowers shine and stars are bright,
What bad thoughts can dim the light,
And what dragon, and what fate?
Nature, sky, and God of love,
Dark blue mystery of life!
I don't mind the curse and strife
For you've lifted me above.
poem by Alexandru Macedonski, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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Flowers
(orbison/dees)
When I was a boy I ran among the flowers
Looking left and right at the bright array
I played through the spring, whiled away the hours
Lingered with the flowers every day
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
When the summer ends and the storms of life are over
When the winter comes and the petals fall away
They may write it on my stone, he was just a roller
But he stopped to pick some flowers along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, picked some flowers, along the way
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To ---- VI
The brilliant west is glowing,
With sunset's farewell ray;
The silver waves are flowing,
On to the distant sea;
The pale bright stars are keeping
Their watch through night's still hours;
The dews in joy are weeping
Above the new-born flowers;
The city's hum is dying
Upon the perfumed breeze,
That wanders, softly sighing,
Among the flower-crowned trees.
But my vagrant thoughts are roaming
To loved ones far away;
I heed not twilight's coming,
Nor flowers, nor winds at play.
Of a low, sweet voice I'm dreaming,
More soft than the southwinds are,
Of a gentle eye that is beaming,
More bright than the Evening Star;
And I read as many pages
In the depths of that hazel eye,
As were read by the Chaldean sages,
In the glittering stars on high;
And the dreams that float under the cover
Of those snowy lids of thine,
The thoughts in that young heart that hover,
I have magic power to divine.
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sorrow And Joys
Bury thy sorrows, and they shall rise
As souls to the immortal skies,
And there look down like mothers' eyes.
But let thy joys be fresh as flowers,
That suck the honey of the showers,
And bloom alike on huts and towers.
So shall thy days be sweet and bright;
Solemn and sweet thy starry night,
Conscious of love each change of light.
The stars will watch the flowers asleep,
The flowers will feel the soft stars weep,
And both will mix sensations deep.
With these below, with those above,
Sits evermore the brooding dove,
Uniting both in bonds of love.
For both by nature are akin;
Sorrow, the ashen fruit of sin,
And joy, the juice of life within.
Children of earth are these; and those
The spirits of divine repose -
Death radiant o'er all human woes.
O, think what then had been thy doom,
If homeless and without a tomb
They had been left to haunt the gloom!
O, think again what now they are -
Motherly love, tho' dim and far,
Imaged in every lustrous star.
For they, in their salvation, know
No vestige of their former woe,
While thro' them all the heavens do flow.
Thus art thou wedded to the skies,
And watched by ever-loving eyes,
And warned by yearning sympathies.
poem by George Meredith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Farewell
As we travel Life's weary journey,
And plod through the gathering years,
With our burdens of care and sorrow,
O'er a pathway bedewed with tears.
If, perchance, for a fleeting moment
Our hearts should with rapture swell,
We have added but one more sorrow,
When we bid the glad time "Farewell".
I have watched the bright dawn awaking,
And noted each changing light,
As the sun, in its morning splendour,
Dispelled the dark gloom of night.
I have welcomed its bright rays stealing
Over hill-top, and wood, and dell;
Yet, my joy was alloyed with sorrow,
As I bade the bright stars "Farewell".
I have seen the red sun descending
To its home in the glowing west,
Whilst the tremulous voice of nature
Was solemnly lulled to rest.
I have welcomed the stars, appearing,
And greeted them one by one,
Yet, my greeting was toned with sadness,
As I said "Farewell" to the sun.
When we welcome the summer sunshine,
Farewell to the flowers of Spring.
Adieu to the fruits of Autumn,
When we welcome the frosty king.
Good-bye to the joys of childhood,
When vigorous youth appears;
Then - a season of strife and turmoil,
And - farewell to the vanished years.
I am sighing a farewell message,
As I sit in the gathering gloom.
Farewell to all earthly sorrows,
Then - rest, in the silent tomb.
Farewell to the trees, and flowers,
To mountain, and stream, and dell,
Farewell to the glorious sunlight,
To the moon and stars, "Farewell"
poem by Thomas E. Spencer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Are White Flowers In Her Hair
There are white flowers in her hair,
blue-white stars when she laughs
in her eyes shining like rainbows,
with a own innocent beauty
with the coming of spring in the air
between the blooming flowers,
in rainbows shining like her eyes,
she finds where the prettiest flowers grow,
she is bounded to loveliness,
she notices roses that are dark like blood
in her eyes shining like rainbows,
but in her cheeks there is a gloss.
Delighted she stands at corn fields
clouds dark and white,
in rainbows shining like her eyes
there is somewhere a pot of gold.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Magical Night of "Sanziene"
It's a magical night in the enchanted garden,
and it's all a deep mystery,
Slowly, from the stars descends a gem,
opening a gate from heaven, again.
Wrapped in steam and light,
fairies dance in silver dresses,
and golden flowers in strands fade,
It rains blessings on the earth.
The air tremble with a song,
and mysterious dances start in the meadows.
The Earth and The Heaven are in harmony,
in the magical night of Sanziene!
But, we have a Gate that opens to Him unceasingly,
and the magical night is an eternal Morning of Grace,
for our Lord, the King... has risen!
He gave us Heaven and Eternal Life as a gift.
It's a magical night in the enchanted garden,
and it's all a deep mystery,
I hear Him among the stars, my tender Father
whispering; You will soon be with Me in Heaven!
The Heaven Within Us
Opened heaven... the heaven within us.
I do not know if in some magic night the heaven opens and the fairies descend to us to give flowers perfume, to bring wealth and fertility, or to give healing power to the plants... but I know that for us the heaven was opened once and for all and remains open to any prayer raised with faith at dawn, to every song of praise in the middle of the day, to every cry and every tear sometimes in the darkest nights. I know that He came down to us, The Son of God, gave His Life for us, gave the color and perfume to flowers, brought liberation, freedom, healing, and peace. He was reconciling the world to Himself. Heaven is eternally open for us, and even more, we are carrying heaven within us. When we say a word of encouragement, when we erase a tear, and we cry with those crying, when spread around us smiles, when we help, when we forgive, when we love... we open the heaven to others... the heaven within us.
poem by Marius Alexandru
Submitted by anonym
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Aphrodite
On a golden dawn in the dawn sublime
Of years ere the stars had ceased to sing,
Beautiful out of the sea-deeps cold
Aphrodite arose—the Flower of Time—
That, dear till the day of her blossoming,
The old, old Sea had borne in his heart.
Around her worshipping waves did part
Tremulous—glowing in rose and gold.
And the birds broke forth into singing sweet,
And flowers born scentless breathed perfume:
Softly she smiled upon Man forlorn,
And the music of love in his wild heart beat,
And down to the pit went his gods of gloom,
And earth grew bright and fair as a bride,
And folk in star-worlds wondering cried—
“Lo in the skies a new star is born!”
O Beloved, thus on my small world you
Rose, flushing it all with rosy flame!
Changing sad thoughts to a singing throng,
And creating the earth and the sky anew!
As Love you appeared—and, lo, you are Fame,
And, all my follies and sins despite,
You yet, Beloved, may see my light—
Small, but a star—mid the stars of song.
poem by Victor James Daley
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Fire and Ice Nature
Day and night poles apart flaming flame
Moods of the contrast to carry here on
Flowing their times until they are done
Something of feral for life to tame
Sunshine brings day but moon gleams the twilight
The moods to the dreams and fun at the sea
Everything's turning epoch's to be
Glowing of evenings and stars in bright
Icily cold till spring is green and tanned
With precious small flowers some blue and red
And golden sunshine from pure azure sky
Each wave from deep oceans on black beach sand
Weaving erosion to wilderness bed
To this fire and ice nature I can't say goodbye
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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The Stage
See the mountains with glorious peaks
Rivers below sigh with eternities flow
Ancient clouds hue with lavender dusk
Mornings mysterious fog floats on lakes
Meadows filled with timeless wild flowers
Cliffs and waterfalls feeding sweet springs
Hear the sea with its rhythmic waves
Blue green water of abundant life
By the shoreline of endless sky
I have prayed on a forests enchanting path
Listen to the swirl of the tops of tall trees
Fall colors of soft red fire and golden joy
We come as strangers from the stars
We get just a short awakening glimpse
Then go back to the sleeping dust
Who has set this wondrous stage?
No one should wreck a child's awe
I have felt the mystical chills
Tillers of the garden, lovers of life
Lets leave it clean for our grandchildren
Lets gather together and protect this gift
Tonight the moon shines like a Saint
Stars surround her like a halo
She peaks her ivory face through trees
Dawn comes with a sun of grand hope
Flowers reach for creations light
Beauty in nature should be preserved
We all pass but the stage remains
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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A Joy Forever!
Cluster of Stars in the Universe looks as festival festoons!
It is celebration always in the night sky for wonder up there
And a delightful show for the lovers to wonder and enjoy life!
The wonders of brilliant Stars sparkle in the eyes of lovers
When they meet and fall in love at an unexpected time in life!
Love develops with much enthusiasm, zeal and pleasure so!
What happens in the macrocosm happens in the microcosm;
The star effect of space reflects on the flowers of Earth
And the joy of heaven is transferred to the paradise on Earth!
The union of lovers enriches life longevity in joy and pleasure
As the ever expanding Universe with new stars appearing
Endless reflecting God’s never ending enthusiasm in creation!
The joy of Stars in Space and flowers of flora absorb hearts
And immerse in love all to enjoy fun, pleasure and joy ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
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God's Garden
God made a beatous garden
With lovely flowers strown,
But one straight, narrow pathway
That was not overgrown.
And to this beauteous garden
He brought mankind to live,
And said: 'To you, my children,
These lovely flowers I give.
Prune ye my vines and fig trees,
With care my flowerets tend,
But keep the pathway open
Your home is at the end.'
Then came another master,
Who did not love mankind,
And planted on the pathway
Gold flowers for them to find.
And mankind saw the bright flowers,
That, glitt'ring in the sun,
Quite hid the thorns of av'rice
That poison blood and bone;
And far off many wandered,
And when life's night came on,
They still were seeking gold flowers,
Lost, helpless and alone.
O, cease to heed the glamour
That blinds your foolish eyes,
Look upward to the glitter
Of stars in God's clear skies.
Their ways are pure and harmless
And will not lead astray,
Bid aid your erring footsteps
To keep the narrow way.
And when the sun shines brightly
Tend flowers that God has given
And keep the pathway open
That leads you on to heaven.
poem by Robert Frost
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My Frost-King - Song II
Brighter shone the golden shadows;
On the cool wind softly came
The low, sweet tones of happy flowers,
Singing little Violet's name.
'Mong the green trees was it whispered,
And the bright waves bore it on
To the lonely forest flowers,
Where the glad news had not gone.
Thus the Frost-King lost his kingdom,
And his power to harm and blight.
Violet conquered, and his cold heart
Warmed with music, love, and light;
And his fair home, once so dreary,
Gay with lovely Elves and flowers,
Brought a joy that never faded
Through the long bright summer hours.
Thus, by Violet's magic power,
All dark shadows passed away,
And on the home of happy flowers
The golden light for ever lay.
Thus the Fairy mission ended,
And all Flower-Land was taught
The 'Power of Love,' by gentle deeds
That little Violet wrought.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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Brighter Shone The Golden Shadows
Brighter shone the golden shadows;
On the cool wind softly came
The low, sweet tones of happy flowers,
Singing little Violet's name.
'Mong the green trees was it whispered,
And the bright waves bore it on
To the lonely forest flowers,
Where the glad news had not gone.
Thus the Frost-King lost his kingdom,
And his power to harm and blight.
Violet conquered, and his cold heart
Warmed with music, love, and light;
And his fair home, once so dreary,
Gay with lovely Elves and flowers,
Brought a joy that never faded
Through the long bright summer hours.
Thus, by Violet's magic power,
All dark shadows passed away,
And o'er the home of happy flowers
The golden light for ever lay.
Thus the Fairy mission ended,
And all Flower-Land was taught
The 'Power of Love,' by gentle deeds
That little Violet wrought.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Edenland
YOU remember where in starlight
We two wandered hand in hand,
While the night-flowers poured their perfume,
And night-airs the still earth fanned?--
There I, walking yester even,
Felt like a ghost in Edenland.
I remember all you told me,
Looking up as we did stand,
While my heart poured out its perfume,
Like the night-flowers in your hand;
And the path where we two wandered
Seemed not like earth but Edenland.
Now the stars shine paler, colder
Night-flowers die without your hand;
Yet my spirit walks beside you
Everywhere, unsought, unbanned.
And I wait till we shall wander
Under the stars of Edenland.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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If Stars Dropped Out Of Heaven
If stars dropped out of heaven,
And if flowers took their place,
The sky would still look very fair,
And fair earth's face.
Winged angels might fly down to us
To pluck the stars,
Be we could only long for flowers
Beyond the cloudy bars.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When the Light is as Darkness
The morning-tide is fair and bright,
With golden sun up-springing;
The cedars glowed in the new-born light,
And the bell-bird's note was ringing;
While diamonds dropped by dusky Night,
Were yet to the gidyas clinging.
The morning waned - the sun rose high
O'erhead, until 'twas seeming
But a dazzling disc, and the fiery sky
Like an opal sea was gleaming;
And languorous flowers - of morn gone by,
And coming eve - fell dreaming.
And now the moon above does creep
To laugh at red Sol sinking;
While wakening from their sunlit sleep,
A few wan stars are blinking,
And thirsty, drooping flowers deep
Of evening dews are drinking.
The birds will soon their carols cease,
And crows are homeward hieing;
The gloaming deepens, stars increase,
The weary day is dying -
Its requiem, murmurous of peace,
The vesper winds are, sighing.
This night is near! Are you waiting friend,
That Night? - we're drawing nigh it -
When we to the Restful Land shall wend,
And leave life's feverish riot -
When the gods to each tired soul shall send
Eternal, dreamless quiet.
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stars in the night
Stars in the night,
Shining so bright,
Accompanying a moon,
Which always seems so alone,
Why can't we be like that,
And cut the cobwebs that,
Weakens the human bond,
Makes us feel alone is strong,
Arrogance and ego,
Negligence or so,
Are the cobwebs around,
Pathetic as they sound,
But this true,
For all of us,
We follow them all,
No matter dawn or dusk,
We join the stars,
With imaginary lines,
But can’t join our hearts,
With emotional signs,
A shooting star naturally leaves the sky,
Saying goodbye to all,
And fulfilling our wishes nice,
But we forcefully kick out our stars,
Our Mom and Dad,
Out of the house,
‘Coz spending few bucks on them,
Seems too bad,
We even make our friends,
Using our brain and not heart,
Don’t even mind breaking relationships,
For our good sake and part,
We see the sun,
Giving moon it’s light,
So that we see in the dark,
And moon looks beautiful and bright,
But this way,
We’ll never be,
‘Coz we kick a man downstairs,
So that “he’ll never be as high as me”,
We also grab somebody’s light,
So that we can shine more bright,
And give others darkness of failure,
‘Coz, for us,
Hard work was never an option better,
We see the moon in the dark night,
But never see the reasons behind its beauty and light,
The stars make it look flawlessly white,
‘Coz even it has holes,
If you have a close sight,
So promise yourself to be like these stars,
The sun,
Always helping others to stand,
And even making your own position,
Behave like human,
And not machines,
Make connections with heart and not brain,
And understand each other’s feelings….
poem by Apurva Jain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bring Flowers
Bring flowers, young flowers, for the festal board,
To wreathe the cup ere the wine is pour'd;
Bring flowers! they are springing in wood and vale,
Their breath floats out on the southern gale,
And the touch of the sunbeam hath waked the rose,
To deck the hall where the bright wine flows.
Bring flowers to strew in the conqueror's path-
He hath shaken thrones with his stormy wrath!
He comes with the spoils of nations back,
The vines lie crush'd in his chariot's track,
The turf looks red where he won the day-
Bring flowers to die in the conqueror's way!
Bring flowers to the captive's lonely cell,
They have tales of the joyous woods to tell;
Of the free blue streams, and the glowing sky,
And the bright world shut from his languid eye;
They will bear him a thought of the sunny hours,
And a dream of his youth-bring him flowers, wild flowers!
Bring flowers, fresh flowers, for the bride to wear!
They were born to blush in her shining hair.
She is leaving the home of her childhood's mirth,
She hath bid farewell to her father's hearth,
Her place is now by another's side-
Bring flowers for the locks of the fair young bride!
Bring flowers, pale flowers, o'er the bier to shed,
A crown for the brow of the early dead!
For this through its leaves hath the white-rose burst,
For this in the woods was the violet nurs'd.
Though they smile in vain for what once was ours,
They are love's last gift-bring ye flowers, pale flowers!
Bring flowers to the shrine where we kneel in prayer,
They are nature's offering, their place is there!
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!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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