Far upward ‘neath a shelving cliff 
Where cool and deep the shadows fall, 
The trembling fern its graceful fronds 
Displays along the mossy wall. 
The wildflowers shun these craggy heights— 
Their haunts are in the vale below; 
But beauty ever clothes the rocks 
Where Nature bids the ferns to grow. 
Let others cull the flowers that bloom 
By wood and field, by stream and hedge ; 
For me there grows the dainty fern 
That droops upon the stony ledge. 
