Wednesday, January 18, 2017

The whiteness of the snow-drop.


White rob'd flow'r, in lonely beauty, 
    Rising from a wint'ry bed;
Chilling winds, and blasts ungenial, 
    Rudely threat'ning round thy head.
...
No warm tints, or vivid colouring, 
    Paints thy bells with gaudy pride;
Mildly charm'd we seek thy fragrance, 
   Where no thorns insiduous hide.

Tis not thine, with flaunting beauty, 

    To attract the roving sight;
Nature, from her varied wardrobe, 
    Chose thy vest of purest white.

White, as falls the fleecy show'r,  

   Thy soft form in sweetness grows;
Not more fair, the valley's treasure,   
   Nor more sweet her LILY blows.
...                                                                                 

A few lines to celebrate the snow-drop and its pure whiteness from the poem written by Cordelia Skeeles for The Temple of Flora

Photos:
TravelinaGarden, Anglesey Abbey Garden, March 2016

plate:
'The snow-drop and crocus'
from 'The Temple of Flora'

Further reading:
The Temple of Flora
Robert Thornton (1768-1837), 1812 (first edition 1804)
https://archive.org/

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