The language of flowers : $b The floral offering ; a token of affection and esteem ; comprising the language and poetry of flowersDumont, Henrietta
General
The language of flowers : $b The floral offering ; a token of affection and esteem ; comprising the language and poetry of flowers
Dumont, Henrietta
Flower language; Flowers in literature
’Tis a common proof,
That lowliness is young ambition’s ladder,
Whereto the climber upwards turns his face:
But when he once attains the upmost round,
He then unto the ladder turns his back,
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees
By which he did ascend.
_Shakspeare._
* * * * *
He who ascends to mountain-tops shall find
The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow;
He who surpasses or subdues mankind
Must look down on the hate of those below.
Though high above the sun of glory glow,
And far beneath the earth and ocean spread,
Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow
Contending tempests on his naked head,
And thus reward the toils which to those summits led.
_Byron._
* * * * *
Ye gods, it doth amaze me,
A man of such a feeble temper should
So get the start of the majestic world,
And bear the palm alone.
_Shakspeare._
* * * * *
On the summit see,
The seals of office glitter in his eyes;
He climbs,--he pants,--he grasps them. At his heels,
Close at his heels, a demagogue ascends,
And with a dexterous jerk soon twists him down,
And wins them, but to lose them in his turn.
_Cowper._
* * * * *
If any man must fall for me to rise,
Then seek I not to rise. Another’s pain
I choose not for my good. A golden chain--
A robe of honour is too poor a prize
To tempt my hasty hand to do a wrong
Unto a fellow man. This life hath wo
Sufficient, wrought by man’s satanic foe;
And who that hath a heart would dare prolong
Or add unto the sorrows of a soul
That seeks some healing balm to make it whole?
My bosom owns the brotherhood of man;
From GOD and truth a renegade is he
Who scorns a poor man in his poverty,
Or on his fellow lays a supercilious ban.
_MacKellar._
ASH TREE.... _Grandeur_.
* * * * *
It is sure,
Stamped by the seal of nature, that the well
Of mind, where all its waters gather pure,
Shall with unquestioned spell all hearts allure.
Wisdom enshrined in beauty--Oh! how high
The order of that loveliness.
_Percival._
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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