The gift of utterance is ours, Love's service to proclaim; But in the fragrance of the flowers There breathes a purer flame. Abiding in their place of birth, They cleave unto the sod, In reverence, nearer unto earth; In lowliness, to God. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER by JOHN CROWE RANSOM GO DOWN DEATH; A FUNERAL SERMON by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE LADDER OF SAINT AUGUSTINE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ON RECEIVING [THE FIRST] NEWS OF THE WAR by ISAAC ROSENBERG ON THE DEATH OF A METAPHYSICIAN by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE RAZOR-SELLER by JOHN WOLCOTT PSALM 117 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |