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JULIA CAROLINE RIPLEY DORR
American author
(1825 - 1913)

A wreath of dewy roses, fresh and sweet, just brought from out the garden's cool retreat.
      - [Roses]

Grass rows at last above all graves.
      - [Herbage]

Like saintly vestals, pale in prayer, their pure breath sanctifies the air.
      - [Flowers]

No mother who stands upon low ground herself can hope to place her children upon a loftier plane. They may reach it, but it will not be through her.
      - [Mothers]

O, fair To-morrow, what our souls have missed
  Art thou not keeping for us, somewhere, still?
    The buds of promise that have never blown--
      The tender lips that we have never kissed--
        The song whose high, sweet strain eludes our skill,
          The one white pearl that life hath never known.
      - [Tomorrow]

Pluck the acacia's golden balls,
  And mark where the red pomegranate falls.
      - [Acacia]

Thou art no dreamer, O thou stern To-day!
  The dead past had its dreams; the real is thine.
      - [Today]

To-morrow; never yet was born
  In earth's dull atmosphere a thing so fair
    Never tripped, with footsteps light as air,
      So glad a vision o'er the hills of morn.
      - [Tomorrow]

What shall I bring to lay upon thy bier,
  O Yesterday! thou day forever dead!
    With what strange garlands shall I crown thy head,
      Thou silent One?
      - [Yesterday]

With fragrant breath the lilies woo me now, and softly speaks the sweet-voiced mignonette.
      - [Flowers]

Yet there upon that upland height
  The darlings of the early spring
    Blue violets--were blossoming.
      - [Violets]

And the stately lilies stand
  Fair in the silvery light,
    Like saintly vestals, pale in prayer;
      Their pure breath sanctifies the air,
        As its fragrance fills the night.
      - A Red Rose [Lilies]

Around in silent grandeur stood
  The stately children of the wood;
    Maple and elm and towering pine
      Mantled in folds of dark woodbine.
      - At the Gate [Honeysuckles]

The buttercups, bright-eyed and bold,
  Held up their chalices of gold
    To catch the sunshine and the dew.
      - Centennial Poem (l. 165) [Buttercups]

Stars will blossom in the darkness,
  Violets bloom beneath the snow.
      - For a Silver Wedding [Violets]

Grass grows at last above all graves.
      - Grass-Grown [Grass]

Fie upon thee, November! thou dost ape
  The airs of thy young sisters, . . . thou hast stolen
    The witching smile of May to grace thy lip,
      And April's rare capricious loveliness
        Thou'rt trying to put on!
      - November [November]

The harebells nod as she passes by,
  The violet lifts its tender eye,
    The ferns bend her steps to greet,
      And the mosses creep to her dancing feet.
      - Over the Wall [Flowers]

O beautiful, royal Rose,
  O Rose, so fair and sweet!
    Queen of the garden art thou,
      And I--the Clay at thy feet!
        . . . .
          Yet, O thou beautiful Rose!
            Queen rose, so fair and sweet,
              What were lover or crown to thee
                Without the Clay at thy feet?
      - The Clay to the Rose [Roses]

Who soweth good seed shall surely reap;
  The year grows rich as it groweth old,
    And life's latest sands are its sands of gold!
      - To the "Bouquet Club" [Goodness]

What dost thou bring to me, O fair To-day,
  That comest o'er the mountains with swift feet?
      - To-Day [Today]

And all the meadows, wide unrolled,
  Were green and silver, green and gold,
    Where buttercups and daisies spun
      Their shining tissues in the sun.
      - Unanswered [Flowers]

Up from the gardens floated the perfume
  Of roses and myrtle, in their perfect bloom.
      - Vashti's Scroll (l. 91) [Flowers]


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