" Blessed be God for flowers—
For the light, gentle, holy thoughts that breathe
From out their odorous beauty, like a wreath
Of sunshine on life's hours."
For the light, gentle, holy thoughts that breathe
From out their odorous beauty, like a wreath
Of sunshine on life's hours."
And thus would I gather and interweave them into this discourse, and let them run, like shining threads, through its humbler and grosser texture. For, beautifully, as the poet says,—
"they are, themselves,
But bright thoughts syllabled to shape and hue."
But bright thoughts syllabled to shape and hue."
I would baptize my every word in their morning fragrance. And, if it were possible, I would record their silent language, and make my own cold page a page of living beauty; for
" The language that they breathe is Nature's prayer."
John Greenleaf Whittier
