You seemed to me to be soaring far up in the blue - to be sailing in the bright light, over the heads of men. Suddenly some one tosses up a faded rosebud - a missile that should never have reached you - and down you drop to the ground.
You seemed to me to be soaring far up in the blue - to be sailing in the bright light, over the heads of men. Suddenly some one tosses up a faded rosebud - a missile that should never have reached you - and down you drop to the ground.
What have we in common with the rosebud, which trembles because a drop of dew is lying upon it?
Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls.
Rosebud.
What's special about Rosebud is we're watching these in a darkened theater,
For each thorn, there's a rosebud... for each twilight a dawn... for each trial the strength to carry on, For each stormcloud a rainbow... for each shadow the sun... for each parting sweet memories when sorrow is done.
A rosebud set with little wilful thorns, And sweet as English air could make her, she.
Leisure is a form of silence, not noiselessness. It is the silence of contemplation such as occurs when we let our minds rest on a rosebud, a child at play, a Divine mystery, or a waterfall.
A kitten is in the animal world what a rosebud is in the garden.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories