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THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
Earth’s cultureless buds ! to my heart ye were dear 
Ere the fever of passion, or ague of fear, 
Had scathed my existence’s bloom; 
Once I welcome you more, in life’s passionless stage, 
With the visions of youth to revisit my age, 
And I wish you to grow on my tomb. 
FLOWERS. 
LONGFELLOW. 
In all places, then, and in all seasons, 
Flowers expand their light and soul-like wings. 
Teaching us by most persuasive reasons 
How akin they are to human things 3 
And with child-like, credulous affection 
We behold their tender buds expand, 
Emblems of our own great resurrection— 
Emblems of the bright and better land. 
