“The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore,
And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.”

“They wander in deep woods, in mournful light,
Amid long reeds and drowsy headed poppies
And lakes where no wave laps, and voiceless streams,
Upon whose banks in the dim light grow old
Flowers that were once bewailèd names of kings.”
Errantes silva in magna et sub luce maligna<br/>inter harundineasque comas gravidumque papaver<br/>et tacitos sine labe lacus, sine murmure rivos,<br/>quorum per ripas nebuloso lumine marcent<br/>fleti, olim regum et puerorum nomina, flores.

“The little wind-flower, whose just opened eye
Is blue as the spring heaven it gazes at.”

“Here the wild will woke within her lighting up her flying dreams,
Round and round the planets whirling break in woods and flowers and streams,
And the winds are shaken from them as the leaves from off the rose,
And the feet of earth go dancing in the way that beauty goes,
And the souls of earth are kindled by the incense of her breath
As her light alternate lures them through the gates of birth and death.”

“Though with those streams he no resemblance hold,
Whose foam is amber and their gravel gold;
His genuine and less guilty wealth t' explore,
Search not his bottom, but survey his shore.”

“Work without faith and prayer is like an artificial flower without fragrance.”

“We are the voices of the wandering wind,
Which moan for rest and rest can never find;
Lo! as the wind is, so is mortal life,
A moan, a sigh, a sob, a storm, a strife.”

“Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste it's fragrance on the desert air.”

“Without charm there can be no fine literature, as there can be no perfect flower without fragrance.”

“It's so nice to get flowers while you can still smell the fragrance.”