THE FLOWERS OF GOD. 
The welcome flowers are blossoming, 
In joyous troops revealed ; 
And lift their dewy buds and bells, 
In garden, mead, and field. 
They lurk in every sunless path. 
Where forest children tread ; 
And dot, like stars, the sacred turf 
Which lies above the dead. 
They sport with every playful wind 
Which stirs the blooming trees ; 
And laugh on every fragrant bush. 
All full of toiling bees : 
From the green marge of lake and stream, 
Fresh vale and mountain sod. 
They look in gentle glory forth— 
The pure, sweet flowers of God. 
121 E 
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