Immortal

Life is like a beauteous flower,
Closing to the world at even,—
Closing for a dreamless hour,
To unfold, with dawn, on heaven.

Life is like a bird that nests
Close to earth, no shelter scorning,
Yet, upmounting from her breast,
Fills the skies with song at morning.

poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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