38 PURPLE SANDWORT. 



And such as climb the mountain brow, or meet 



the wild waves' spray, 

 Are never seen to grace the mead, where inland 



breezes play. 



Those breezes may, perchance, the seeds, as ran- 

 dom sowers bring, 



To distant spots, where soothly meet, the gales 

 and showers of spring. 



They may not thrive, when far away, from each 

 her bank or rill, 



Where God has set the little flower to work her 

 Maker's will. 



And thus, the simplest flower that drinks the 



pearly dew of Heaven, 

 A gift to some wayfaring bird, or insect tribe, is 



given. 

 A home, a store-house in the wild, or fountain 



flowing ever,* 

 Where grateful creatures share refresh'd, the 



love that faileth never. 



* Water plant. 



