Welcome back to Flower Poetry Fridays with Mrs. Sigourney. Each Friday a new poem will be posted from her The Voice Of Flowers.
THE WINTER HYACINTH.
How beautiful thou art, my winter flower !
Day after day thy mesh of slender roots,
That mid the water wrought their busy way,
I’ve watch’d intently through the chrystal vase
That deck’d my mantel-piece. Pink Hyacinth in Bud
Then, bursting forth,
Came leaves, and swelling buds, and floral bells,
Replete with fragrance: while thy graceful
form,
Fair Hyacinth, attracted every eye,
And many a phrase of admiration woke,
As from a lover’s lip; —while unto me
Thou wert as a companion, skill’d to smile
All loneliness away.
But now—alas !
I mark the plague-spot stealing o’er thy brow,
And know that thou must die.
Pink Hyacinth Flowering
In thy brief space,
Say—did thine inmost soul remember Him
Of whom thy rare and pencill’d beauty spake
So tenderly to us ? And was thy breath
A pure and sweet ascription to His praise ?
We trust it was ; for those who teach of heaven
Should have its spirit too.
Yet, if like us,
Poor erring ones, thou e’er didst leave undone
What ‘t was the duty of thy life to do,
Haste, and repent thee ! for the time is short—
The Spoiler cometh !
Drooping on the stem,
Methought it meekly folded its faint leaves
For the last, voiceless prayer ; while unto me
A gush of fragrance was its benison.
—
At morn I came. No more its bosom glow’d ;
A heavy sleep hung o’er its leaden eyes,—
And dews like funeral tears.
Oh, Friend ! whose gift
Was the dark bulb that veil’d this glorious
flower,
And unto whom, in gratitude, I turn’d,
As its rich charms develop’d—come with me,
And let us gather from its wither’d lips
Some lingering sigh of wisdom.
If we blend
True love to God with every kindly deed
Unto our fellow man, and steadfast stand
At duty’s post, still inly bow’d, as those
Who feel the time is short—may we not wait
For sleep’s last angel, full of placid trust,
Like this sweet, folded flower ?
Red Hyacinth in the Garden The Winter Hyacinth reminds us about the beauty to behold in our floral friends. And indeed, in the midst of Winter, a pretty flower can be a good friend in providing so many smiles.
How interesting it is to watch the hyacinth bulb grow from a tangle of roots. Long green leaves rise up with tiny flower buds that blossom into very fragrant flowers.
Mrs. Sigourney’s message to us is about the fleeting nature of life and she warns us to take heed. Life is too short for regrets.
Take time to watch the hyacinth grow. And smile. 🙂
I’m sure there’s a lot more meaning in her poem when you thrown in the religious aspect, but I really like the part about the admiration for the flowers, especially hyacinth.
Come back next Friday for the next installment in our series of flower poems from Mrs. Sigourney’s The Voice of Flowers, “He Told His Love In Flowers”.
