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Home  »  library  »  Song  »  Robert Buchanan (1841–1901)

C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Robert Buchanan (1841–1901)

Flower of the World

WHEREVER men sinned and wept,

I wandered in my quest;

At last in a Garden of God

I saw the Flower of the World.

This flower had human eyes;

Its breath was the breath of the mouth:

Sunlight and starlight came,

And the flower drank bliss from both.

Whatever was base and unclean,

Whatever was sad and strange,

Was piled around its roots:

It drew its strength from the same.

Whatever was formless and base

Passed into fineness and form;

Whatever was lifeless and mean

Grew into beautiful bloom.

Then I thought, “O Flower of the World,

Miraculous blossom of things,

Light as a faint wreath of snow

Thou tremblest to fall in the wind;

“O beautiful Flower of the World,

Fall not nor wither away:

He is coming—he cannot be far—

The Lord of the flowers and the stars.”

And I cried, “O Spirit divine

That walkest the garden unseen!

Come hither, and bless, ere it dies,

The beautiful Flower of the World.”