The Flower

In the garden fair, the flowers all bloom, Their colors bright with gentle grace, Each petal whispers soft to the gloom, In beauty adorned, in Nature’s embrace.

Oh sweet little flower, with heart so pure, Thou breathest thy fragrance into the air; In thy brief life, so simple and sure, A lesson is found, a truth rare and fair.

Thy thorns may prick and the tempest may rage, Yet in every storm, let thy petals sigh, With grace shall you grow through every age, For in every storm, beautiful shall lie.

So bloom, little flower, in joy and in pain, For in every heartbeat, love shall remain.

—Felicia Hemans

• Felicia Hemans