See, winter comes, to rule the varied year.

Thomson

Come, gentle spring! ethereal mildness, come!

Thomson

Autumn nodding o'er the yellow plain.

Thomson

These, as they change, Almighty Father! these
Are but the varied God. The rolling year
Is full of Thee.

I care not, Fortune, what you me deny :
You cannot rob me of free nature's grace;

You cannot shut the windows of the sky,

Thomson

Through which Aurora shows her brightening face.

Happy the man who tills his field,

Content with rustic labor;

Earth does to him her fulness yield,

Hap what may to his neighbor.

Thomson

Well days, sound nights, oh! can there be

A life more rational and free?

The sky is a drinking-cup,

That was overturned of old,

And it pours in the eyes of men

Its wine of airy gold.

We drink that wine all day,

R. H. Stoddard

Till the last drop is drained up,
And are lighted off to bed

By the jewels in the cup.

R. H. Stoadard

You will find something far greater in the woods than you will find in books. Stones and trees will teach you that which you will never learn from

masters.

St. Bernard

The heavens and the earth are one flower; the earth is the calyx, the heavens the corolla.

Nature is God's Old Testament.

Thoreau

Theodore Parker

Darkness is fled. Now flowers unfold their beauties to the sun, and, blushing, kiss the beam he sends to wake them.

R. Brinsley Sheridan

The glorious lamp of heaven, the radiant sun, is Nature's eye.

John Dryden

Nature, exerting an unwearied power,
Forms, opens, and gives scent to every flower.

Cowper

The stars are preachers of beauty, which light the world with their admonishing smile.

Teach me your mood, O patient stars!
Who climb each night the ancient sky.

Emerson

Emerson

Flowers are words that even a babe may understand.

Bishop Coxe

The dew waits for no voice to call it to the sun.

Joseph Parker

Day by day the happy wild-flowers

Lift their heads to the sun's warm glow, Gratefully drink the cooling showers,

Rocked by the wind, sway to and fro;
Then, as the night brings shadows deep,
Drooping their little heads, they sleep.

Children dear, if our lives are loving,
Sweet to all like the clover here,
Having the modest grace of violets,

Full of the buttercup's sunny cheer, -
We shall be God's little human flowers,
Helping to brighten this world of ours.

How cheery are the mariners,

Those lovers of the sea!

Caro A. Dugan

Their hearts are like the yesty waves,

As bounding and as free.

They whistle when the storm-bird wheels

In circles round the mast,

And sing when, deep in foam, the ship
Ploughs onward to the blast.

A life on the ocean wave,

Park Benjamin

A home on the rolling deep,
Where the scattered waters rave,
And the winds their revels keep.

A wet sheet and a flowing sea,

A wind that follows fast,

Epes Sargent

And fills the white and rustling sail,

And bends the gallant mast.

Allan Cunningham

The flowers are but earth vivified.

Lamartine

What a desolate place would be a world without a flower! It would be a face without a smile, a feast without a welcome. Are not flowers the stars

of the earth, and are not our stars the flowers of heaven?

Mrs. Balfour

Flowers, leaves, fruit, are the air-woven children of light.

Moleschott

A moss-rose is beautiful because it is bordered; it is a landscape seen through trees.

Sylvester Judd

The sentinel stars set their watch in the sky.

Heaven's ebon vault,

Studded with stars, unutterably bright,

Campbell

Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls,

Seems like a canopy which Love has spread

To curtain her sleeping world.

The Sea is a jovial comrade,

He laughs wherever he goes;

His merriment shines in the dimpling lines

That wrinkle his hale repose ;

He lays himself down at the feet of the Sun,
And shakes all over with glee,

Shelley

And the broad-backed billows fall faint on the shore,

In the mirth of the mighty Sea.

Bayard Taylor

Fair seem these wintry days, and soon
Shall blow the warm west winds of spring
To set the unbound rills in tune,

And hither urge the bluebird's wing.
The vales shall laugh in flowers, the woods
Grow misty green with leafing buds,
And violets and wild flowers sway
Against the throbbing heart of May.

And all about, the softening air
Of new-born sweetness tells;
And the ungathered Mayflowers wear
The tint of ocean shells.

The old, assuring miracle

Is fresh as heretofore;

And earth takes up its parable

Of life from death once more.

Whittier

Whittier

The stars are tiny daisies high,
Opening and shutting in the sky;
While daisies are the stars below,
Twinkling and sparkling as they grow.
The star-buds blossom in the night,
And love the moon's calm, tender light;
But daisies bloom out in the day,
And watch the strong sun on his way.

There is a rainbow in the sky,

Upon the arch where tempests trod;
God wrote it ere the world was dry,
It is the autograph of God!

Anon

Anon