THE SPEEDWELL. 299 



" Blue eye-bright ! Loveliest flower of all that grow 

 In flower-loved England ! Flower, whose hedge-side gaze 

 Is like an infant's ! What heart doth not know 

 Thee, clustered smiler of the bank, where plays 

 The sunbeam with the emerald snake, and strays 

 The dazzling rill, companion of the road 

 Which the lone bard most loveth, in the days 

 When hope and love are young ? Oh, come abroad 

 Blue eyebright !" 



Who, indeed, loving nature does not know the 

 speedwell, and the early banks on which it blows ? 

 mingling its stars with those of the golden loose- 

 strife. Who has not seen them thus united the 

 spring tide through, painting the highways with 

 living illustrations of the words of one of the truest 



o 



of poets ? Words, which I make no apology for 

 transcribing, familiar, as they must be, to all : 



" Spake full well, in language quaint and olden, 



One who dwelleth on the castled Rhine, 

 When he called the flowers so blue and golden, 

 Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine. 



Stars they are, wherein we read our history, 



As astrologers and seers of old ; 

 Yet not wrapped about with awful mystery, 



Like the burning stars, which they behold. 

 * * * * * 



And the poet, faithful and all-seeing, 



Sees alike in stars and flowers, a part 

 Of the self-same, universal, being 



Which is throbbing in his brain and heart. 

 ***** 

 Everywhere about us they are glowing ; 



Some like stars, to tell us spring is born ; 

 Others, their blue eyes with tears o'erflowing, 



Stand like Euth amid the golden corn." 



There can be little doubt, I think, that the same 



