Flowers Preach To Us If

I Have A Room Whereinto No One Enters Save I Myself Alone: There Sits A Blessed Memory On A Throne, There My Life Centres.

The Violets Whisper From The Shade Which Their Own Leaves Have Made: Men Scent Our Fragrance On The Air, Yet Take No Heed Of Humble Lessons We Would Read.

Remember Me When I Am Gone Away, Gone Far Away Into The Silent Land.

Love Loves For Ever, And Finds A Sort Of Joy In Pain, And Gives With Nought To Take Again, And Loves Too Well To End In Vain: Is The Gain Small Then? Love Laughs At "never", Outlives Our Life, Exceeds The Span Appointed To Mere Mortal Man: All Which Love Is And Does And Can Is All In All Then.

O Lord, I Cannot Plead My Love Of Thee: I Plead Thy Love Of Me: - The Shallow Conduit Hails The Unfathomed Sea.