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‘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 ;
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 flow'rets 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.'
'Flowers ! flowers ! bright, merry-faced flowers !
I love ye dearly,
Ye look so cheerly.
That hath its birth
On this chequered earth :
HO does not love flowers-fair, luxu
riant wild flowers with which our earth is so beautiful ? What pure,
healthful thoughts they bring to the mind! with what warm, bright, happy feelings they stir the heart! They are 'a joy for ever.'
'Flowers are the brightest things which earth
On her broad bosom loves to cherish;