There is in all this cold and hollow world, No fount of deep, strong,deathless love ;save that within a mother's heart

There is in all this cold and hollow world, No fount of deep, strong,deathless love ;save that within a mother's heart

The opening and the folding flowers, that laugh to the summer's day.

There is strength deep bedded in our hearts, of which we reck but little till the shafts of heaven have pierced its fragile dwelling. Must not earth be rent before her gems are found?

Gird your hearts with silent fortitude, Suffering, yet hoping all things.

A passion for flowers, is, I think, the only one which long sickness leaves untouched with its chilling influence.

life's best balm - Forgetfulness!