The tulip's petals shine in dew, All beautiful, but none alike.

There is a calm for those who weep, A rest for weary pilgrims found, They softly lie and sweetly sleep Low in the ground.

Eternity: a moment standing still for ever.

Blue thou art, intensely blue; Flower, whence came thy dazzling hue?

Prayer is the soul's sincere desire, Uttered or unexpressed, The motion of a hidden fire That trembles in the breast. Prayer is the burden of a sigh, The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of an eye When none but God is near.

A mother's love — how sweet the name! What is a mother's love? — A noble, pure and tender flame, Enkindled from above, To bless a heart of earthly mould; The warmest love that can grow cold; This is a mother's love.

Beyond this vale of tears there is a life above. unmeasured by the flight of years; and all that life is love.