Blue Thou Art, Intensely Blue; Flower, Whence

While Rose-buds Scarcely Show'd Their Hue, But Coyly Linger'd On The Thorn.

A Mother's Love — How Sweet The Name! What Is A Mother's Love? — A Noble, Pure And Tender Flame, Enkindled From Above, To Bless A Heart Of Earthly Mould; The Warmest Love That Can Grow Cold; This Is A Mother's Love.

Eagle Of Flowers! I See Thee Stand, And On The Sun's Noon-glory Gaze; With Eye Like His, Thy Lids Expand, And Fringe Their Disk With Golden Rays: Though Fix'd On Earth, In Darkness Rooted There, Light Is Thy Element, Thy Dwelling Air, Thy Prospect Heaven.

When Evening Closes Nature's Eye, The Glow-worm Lights Her Little Spark To Captivate Her Favorite Fly And Tempt The Rover Through The Dark.

Here Hyacinths Of Heavenly Blue, Shook Their Rich Tresses To The Morn.