Oh bud and leaf and blossom,
How beautiful they are!
Than last year's vernal season
'Tis lovelier by far;
This earth was never so enchanting
Nor half so bright before-
But so I've rhapsodized, in springtime,
For forty years or more.
What luxury of color
On shrub and plant and vine,
From pansies' richest purple
To pink of eglantine;
From buttercups to “johnny-jump-ups,”
With deep cerulean eyes,
Responding to their modest surname
In violet surprise.
Sometimes I think the sunlight
That gilds the emerald hills,
And makes Aladdin dwellings
Of dingy domiciles,
Is surplus beauty overflowing
That Heaven cannot hold-
The topaz glitter, or the jacinth,
The glare of streets of gold.
In “Cedar Hill,” the city
Of “low green tents” of sod,
I read the solemn record
Of those gone home to God;
While from their hallowed dust arising
The fragrant lilies grow
As if their life was all the sweeter
For those who sleep below.
And so 'tis not in sadness
I dwell upon the thought,
When I am dead and buried
That I shall be forgot.
Because the germ of reproduction
Doth this poor body hold,
Perchance to add to nature's beauty
A rose above the mold.
The Beauty Of Nature
Hattie Howard
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Poem topics: beautiful, city, god, green, heaven, home, life, nature, never, pink, poor, purple, rose, sleep, sometimes, earth, deep, bright, Season, gold, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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