- Flowers rejoice when night is done,
- Lift their heads to greet the sun;
- Sweetest looks and odours raise,
- In a silent hymn of praise.
- Open afresh your round of starry folds,
- Ye ardent marigolds!
JOHN KEATS, "I Stood Tiptoe"
- O flowers! the soul that faints or grieves
- New comfort from your lips receives;
- Sweet confidence and patient faith are hidden in your leaves.
ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN, "Spring at the Capital"
Oh! To be a flower
Nodding in the sun,
Bending, then upspringing
As the breezes run.
AMY LOWELL, "Song", A Dome of Many-coloured Glass
The dandelion. Where will you find another prodigal so merry or so golden or so wasteful, pouring out treasure down the sides of hills and cupping it in valleys?
MAXWELL ANDERSON, High Tor
- O prophet flowers! with lips of bloom,
- Surpassing, in their beauty,
- The pearly tints of ocean shells--
- Ye teach me faith and duty.
ALBERT LAIGHTON, "Under the Leaves"