Flowers Preach To Us If We Will

Come To Me In The Silence Of The Night, Come To Me In The Speaking Silence Of A Dream. Come With Soft Rounded Cheeks And Eyes As Bright As Sunlight On A Stream. Come Back In Tears, O Memory, Hope, Love Of Finished Years.

For One Man Is My World Of All The Men This Wide World Holds; O Love, My World Is You.

Consider The Lilies Of The Field Whose Bloom Is Brief:-- We Are As They; Like Them We Fade Away As Doth A Leaf.

Spring's An Expansive Time: Yet I Don't Trust March With Its Peck Of Dust, Nor April With Its Rainbow-crowned Brief Showers, Nor Even May, Whose Flowers One Frost May Wither Thro' The Sunless Hours.

Oh That It Were With Me As With The Flower; Blooming On Its Own Tree For Butterfly And Bee Its Summer Morns: That I Might Bloom Mine Hour A Rose In Spite Of Thorns. Oh That My Work Were Done As Birds' That Soar Rejoicing In The Sun: That When My Time Is Run And Daylight Too, I So Might Rest Once More Cool With Refreshing Dew.