The being filled with wonder is lovely, like a flower.

Full many a flower is born to blush unseen.

Like the dawn upon a dream Slowly through the scented gloom Crept once more the ruddy gleam O'er the friendly nursery room. There, before our waking eyes, Large and ghostly, white and dim, Dreamed the Flower that never dies, Opening wide its rosy rim.

The fairest flower that ever saw the light.

A Flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all

The very flower of youth.

…a flower of strange beauty, growing in a desolate spot, and blossoming in the wind...

The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all.

For look into a flower, and what do you see? Into the very heart of nature’s double nature—that is, the contending energies of creation and dissolution, the spiring toward complex form and the tidal pull away from it. Apollo and Dionysus were names the Greeks gave to these two faces of nature, and nowhere in nature is their contest as plain or as poignant as it is in the beauty of a flower and its rapid passing. There, the achievement of order against all odds and its blithe abandonment. There, the perfection of art and the blind flux of nature. There, somehow, both transcendence and necessity. Could that be it—right there, in a flower—the meaning of life?

A sudden splendour seemed to kindle day
A breeze came breathing in a sweet perfume
Blown from eternal gardens, filled the room.

When one flower blooms spring awakens everywhere

Bright flower! whose home is everywhere Bold in maternal nature's care And all the long year through the heir Of joy or sorrow, Methinks that there abides in thee Some concord with humanity, Given to no other flower I see The forest through.

I came across a wild flower, marveled at its beauty and at the perfection of all its parts, and exclaimed: 'But all this in you and in thousands like you blossoms and fades; it is not noticed by anyone and in fact is often not even seen by any one.' But the flower replied: 'You fool! Do you imagine I blossom in order to be seen? I blossom for my own sake because it pleases me, and not for the sake of others; my joy and delight consist in my being and in my blossoming.

Love is like a beautiful flower which I may not touch, but whose fragrance makes the garden a place of delight just the same.