You love the roses - so do I. I wish
The sky would rain down roses, as they rain
From off the shaken bush. Why will it not?
Then all the valley would be pink and white
And soft to tread on. They would fall as light
As feathers, smelling sweet; and it would be
Like sleeping and like waking, all at once!

The purest and most thoughtful minds 
are those which love colour the most.

There is material enough in a single flower 
for the ornament of a score of cathedrals.