Fair flower, that dost so comely grow, Hid in this silent, dull retreat, Untouched thy honied blossoms blow, Unseen thy little branches greet; ...No roving foot shall crush thee here, ...No busy hand provoke a tear. By Nature's self in white arrayed, She bade thee shun the vulgar eye, And planted here the gaurdian shade, And sent soft waters murmuring by; ...Thus quietly thy summer goes, ...Thy days declinging to repose. Smit with those charms, that must decay, I grieve to see your future doom; They died--nor were those flowers more gay, The flowers that did in Eden bloom; ...Unpitying frosts, and Autumn's power ...Shall leave no vestige of this flower. From morning suns and evenign dews At first thy little being came: If nothing once, you nothing lose, For when you die you are the same; ...The space between, is but an hour, ...The frail duration of a flower.
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When the great white silence comes and fills the boughs of the trees with a thickening, glistening brilliance, and all is cold and barren, where be the blossom? It is in the memory. It is in the wisdom. It is in the growth of last spring, and it is coming forth again. For when the season has turned and winter is gone, the buds come again, and behold, there is another blossom. If the ongoingeness of life is beheld in a single blossom, why do you think that you are less that its life? Do you think that you only bloom in sping, produce your fruit in summer, drop your leaves in autumn and then die in winter? But are you not greater than the greatest blossom? Is not your life more important? Indeed it is. And as the blossoms continue to bloom every spring, so will you live, life after life. What a story your blossoms could tell of all the seasons you've seen.
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Life without love is like a tree without blossoms or fruit.
Love
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Your thighs are appletrees whose blossoms touch the sky. Which sky? The sky where Watteau hung a lady's slipper.
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Your thighs are appletrees whose blossoms touch the sky. Which sky? The sky where Watteau hung a lady's slipper.
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Trust dies but mistrust blossoms.
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We praise Him, we bless Him, we adore Him, we glorify Him, and we wonder who is that baritone across the aisle and that pretty woman on our right who smells of apple blossoms. Our bowels stir and our cod itches and we amend our prayers for the spiritual life with the hope that it will not be too spiritual.
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It's designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything is new again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains comes, it stops, and leaves you to face the fall alone.
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The artist is the confidant of nature, flowers carry on dialogues with him through the graceful bending of their stems and the harmoniously tinted nuances of their blossoms, Every flower has a cordial word which nature directs towards him.
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She was no longer Delight, and the blossoms had already begun to fall in her domain, becoming smudged and formless colours, and she had no one to talk to...
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Tsuki ni murakumo, hana ni kaze Clouds over the moon, a storm over blossoms
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Madam, a circulating library in a town is as an evergreen tree of diabolical knowledge; it blossoms through the year. And depend on it that they who are so fond of handling the leaves, will long for the fruit at last.
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Lord save us all from a hope tree that has lost the faculty of putting out blossoms.
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Live by what you believe so fully that your life blossoms, or else purge the fear-and-guilt producing beliefs from your life. When people believe one thing and do something else, they are inviting misery. If you give yourself the name, play the game. When you believe something you don't follow with your heart, intellect, and body, it hurts. Don't do that to yourself. Live your belief, or let that belief go. If you are not actively living a belief, it's not really your belief, anyway.
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It may just be because I get homesick, but I have concluded Washington's cherry blossoms are just plain overrated.
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Listen, Buster you and your quick-change acts aren't going to hang orange blossoms all over me just because you feel the cold weather coming o...
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Blossoms are scattered by the wind and the wind cares nothing, but the blossoms of the heart no wind can touch.
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Life without love is like a tree without blossoms or fruit.
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My heart that was rapt away by the wild cherry blossoms -- will it return to my body when they scatter?
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Gray hairs are death's blossoms.
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Lord save us all from old age and broken health and a hope tree that has lost the faculty of putting out blossoms.
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