by Edward Elgar, Sir (1857 - 1934), as Percival
The language of flowers
Language: English
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 bowr's, 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.
Authorship:
- by Edward Elgar, Sir (1857 - 1934), as Percival [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Edward Elgar, Sir (1857 - 1934), "The language of flowers", 1872 [voice and piano], unpublished [ sung text checked 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2009-02-07
Line count: 22
Word count: 163