They are not ours, The fleeting flowers, But lights of God That through the sod Flash upwards from the world beneath -- That region peopled wide with death -- And tell us, in each subtle hue, That life renewed is passing through Our world again to seek the skies, Its native realm of Paradise. How brief their day! They cannot stay; Our mother earth Beholds their birth And spreads her ample bosom deep Some relic of their stay to keep, And each in benediction flings A virtue from its dainty wings; But lo! she treasure it in vain; It blooms and vanishes again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO EMILIE BIGELOW HAPGOOD - PHILANTHROPIST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE LILY, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 110 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI CHARACTERS: MARY HOLLAND ENFIELD by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE VISION OF SPRING, 1916 by HENRY HOWARTH BASHFORD MORGUE: 1. LITTLE ASTER by GOTTFRIED BENN SPRING SALMON by PATRICK REGINALD CHALMERS THE CANTERBURY TALES: THE GENERAL PROLOGUE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER |