And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.
And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.
Not more the rose, the queen of flowers, Out blushes all the bloom of bower, Than she unrivalled grace discloses The sweetest rose, where all are roses.
As down in the sunless retreats of the ocean Sweet flowers are springing no mortal can see, So deep in my soul the still prayer of devotion Unheard by the world, rises silent to Thee.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories