LOWERS, lovely flowers! to me they seem Like things of life long loved and known, Bright visions twined with many a dream Of childhood memories past and gone.
Yes! linked with those fair forms arise No mournful hues of woe and care, But, blended with their sunlit dyes, Come thoughts as bright and hopes as fair.
Lovely they gleam beneath the light, Which morning now in lustre flings, While still the dewy tears of night Are sparkling on their fairy wings.
They shine like some bright spirit band, Nor seem one tint of earth to bear: And well they may,—no mortal hand Hath blent the hues which mingle there.
The rainbow arch in watery skies, The gorgeous clouds at evening hour, Alone can match the sunbright dyes, Which shine in every lowly flower.
Bright, glorious things, they sparkle there, Like gems along my pathway strewn: Though every form I see is fair, Each bears some beauty all its own.
And as a flowery wreath I twine, Of countless forms, but lovely all, What varied lights and shades combine, To grace that simple coronal!
Some brighter far than tongue can tell, In gorgeous lustre dazzling bloom,— Some paly as the tinted shell, That sleeps beneath the ocean foam.
And when, like sisters hand in hand, The countless hues that mingle there, Together twine in one bright band, Oh! what can earth produce more fair?
I love them all,—each tells to me Some tale of bright and childhood hours; And gentlest chords of memory Still wreathe around those summer flowers.
A dream of days and pleasures gone, Floats dimly o'er their forms again, Like that which lingering haunts the tone Of some long-loved familiar strain.
And hopes—young, sunny hopes are there, All bright, like them, with early day,— Perchance too like,—mow calm and fair, But soon to fade and pass away.
But oh! while outward things can cheer, And lighten o'er life's passing hours, To me must those fair forms be dear,— Still must I love ye, gentle flowers!
LOWERS, lovely flowers! to me they seem
LOWERS, lovely flowers! to me they seem