edward elgar - the language of flowers lyrics
in eastern lands they talk in flow’rs
and they tell in a garland their loves and cares;
each blossom that blooms in their garden bow’rs
on its leaves a mystic language bears
the rose is a sign of joy and love ++
young blushing love in its earliest dawn;
and the mildness that suits the gentle dove
from the myrtle’s snowy flow’rs is drawn
innocence gleams in the lily’s bell
pure as the heart in its native heaven;
fame’s bright star and glory’s swell
by the glossy leaf of the bay are given
the silent, soft, and humble heart
in the violet’s hidden sweetness breathes;
and the tender soul that cannot part
in a twine of evergreen fondly wreathes
the cypress that daily shades the grave
is sorrow that moans her bitter lot;
and faith that a thousand ills can brave
speaks in thy blue leaves, forget+me+not
then gather a wreath from the garden bowers
and tell the wish of thy heart in flowers
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