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

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.

Tis human actions paint the chart of time.

Time is eternity begun.

There is a flower, a little flower With silver crest and golden eye, That welcomes every changing hour, And weathers every sky.

Who that hath ever been Could bear to be no more? Yet who would tread again the scene He trod through life before?

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