Phoebe Cary Quotes

Of all the flowers, me thinks a rose is best.

Here hyacinths of heavenly blue, shook their rich tresses to the morn.

There is a tiny yellow daffodil, The butterfly can see it from afar, Although one summer evening's dew could fill Its little cup twice over, ere the star Had called the lazy shepherd to his fold, And be no prodigal.

Fewer things are lovelier to me than a full-blown rose when it opens up its heart.

Here are sweet peas, on tiptoe for a flight; With wings of gentle flush o'er delicate white, And taper fingers catching at all things, To bind them all about with tiny rings.

I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks.

And she was fair as is the rose in May.

Jasmine, the name of which signifies fragrance, is the emblem of delicacy and elegance. It is reared with difficulty in New England, but at the South, puts forth all its graces.

The lily and the rose in her fair face striving for precedence.

Rose is the most beautiful flower - it and tuberose are my favourites.

Roses at first were white, Till thy co'd not agree, Whether my Sapho's breast, Or they more white sho'd be.

A root is a flower that disdains fame.

There is to me a daintiness about early flowers that touches me like poetry. They blow out with such a simple loveliness among the common herbs of pastures, and breathe their lives so unobtrusively, like hearts whose beatings are too gentle for the world.

Charm is to a woman what perfume is to a flower.

Iris all hues, roses, and jessamine Reared high their flourished heads between, and wrought Mosaic; underfoot the violet, Crocus, and hyacinth with rich inlay Broidered the ground, more coloured than with stone Of costliest emblem: other creature here Beast, bird, insect, or worm durst enter none; Such was their awe of man.

A flower blossoms for its own joy.

The garden rose may richly bloom In cultured soil and genial air, To cloud the light of Fashion's room Or droop in Beauty's midnight hair, In lonelier grace, to sun and dew The sweetbrier on the hillside shows Its single leaf and fainter hue, Untrained and wildly free, yet still a sister rose!

Delta Dawn, what's that flower you have on, could it be a faded rose from days gone by?

Flowers spring to blossom where she walks The careful ways of duty; Our hard, stiff lines of life with her Are flowing curves of beauty.