Quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley

"There grew pied wind-flowers and violets, Daisies, those pearled Arcturi of the earth, The constellated flower that never sets; Faint oxslips; tender bluebells, at whose birth The sod scarce heaved; and that tall flower that wets— Like a child, half in tenderness and mirth— Its mother's face with Heaven's collected tears, When the low wind, its playmate's voice, it hears."

— Percy Bysshe Shelley, from The Question

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