Ash Tree - The Language of Flowers

Ash Tree

Grandeur

Costly the jewels that gleam on thy breast-
Beautiful Maiden! say, art thou blest?
Rich are the robes that envelop thy form-
Beats there beneath a heart that is warm?
Beautiful maiden! slaves wait thy command-
Leadest thou them with a lenient hand?

Grandeur is round thee, wherever thou art-
Oh say, is there brightness like this in thy heart?
If so, may no sorrows of mine ever dim
The joys that are mantling thy cup to its brim;
In the shade of my lot, I'll adore thee afar-
The worm on the earth may look up to the star!