Take these flowers God's beloved child, Receive them kindly; Though they are wild, They grew in my heart That bleeds for thee. Why art thou making A garden of roses? Art thou forgetting? Have I brought roses From thine own garden, Red with the bloom of love? Sun-flower I bring; It is the day of love s birth. The garden is athrill With song and mirth: Oh, take all, fruit and flower And that lotus my soul! |