POETRY OE FLOWERS. 
73 
Yet not wrapped about with awful mystery, 
Like the burning stars which they beheld. 
Wondrous truths, and manifold as wondrous, 
God hath written in those stars above; 
But not less, in those bright flowrets under us, 
Stands the revelation of His love. 
Bright and glorious is that revelation. 
Written all over this great world of ours ; 
Making evident our own creation 
In these stars of earth,—these golden flowers 
And the Poet, faithful and far seeing. 
Seeks, alike in stars and flowers, a part 
On the self-same universel Being, 
Which is throbbing in his brain and heart. 
Gorgeous flowrets in the sunlight shining. 
Blossoms flaunting in the eye of day. 
Tremulous leaves with soft and silver lining. 
Buds that open only to decay ; 
Brilliant hopes, all woven in gorgeous tissues, 
Flaunting gaily in the gorgeous light; 
Large desires, with most uncertain issues, 
Tender wishes blossoming at night! 
These in flowers and men are more than seeming; 
Workings are they of the self-same powers, 
