Flower Songs

They grow around the homes of all the land

Silent music! Daffodils, roses that stand

Like pink sweet girls–music to see

The growing of beautiful melody!

Flowers are the music of the ground

From earth’s lips spoken without sound;

Flowers are as music, silent, deep

Oxlyps, marigolds, music men keep

In pots and vases, beds and jars

Music as though they were bundles of stars!

Some guard the sick beds where men lie

And breathe to them the summer sky

Breathe back the springtime, when life seems

But sorrow, pain, and darkened dreams.

When in the dreary chamber, they

Can make the shadows bright as day;

Blow in the wind and fields, and run

The little flowers, fresh with sun.

In glittering restaurants they gleam,

Buttercups, violets, beam with beam;

And though the dancing sounds and thrills,

The sweeter songs are daffodils.

And where are spangles, laughter, light,

They make a joy the summer night.

Some grace the tables where we dine–

Our sweetest cups of dewy wine,

The sunlight burning in their bowls

The starlight trickling from their souls,

To add a zest to drink and food,

So splendid, beautiful and good.

So go the flowers place to place

The sweetest friends of the human race;

Then finally the last place of all

Upon men’s graves they gladly fall,

And lie there dreaming with their friends

Flowers with flowers, as the long day ends.


by Edwin Curran

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