There's not a plant or flower below but makes Thy glories known, And clouds arise, and tempests blow by order from Thy throne; While all that borrows life from Thee is ever in Thy care; And everywhere that we can be, Thou, God art present there.
How doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day From every opening flower!
The tulip and the butterfly Appear in gayer coats than I: Let me be dressed fine as I will, Flies, worms, and flowers exceed me still.
A flower, when offered in the bud, is no vain sacrifice.
Do not spend the day in gathering flowers by the way side, lest night come upon you before you arrive at your journey's end, and then you will not reach it.
Flies, worms, and flowers exceed me still.
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