SLtaxus Calamus. 
172 
The Sweet Flag—Acorus Calamus.... Grace. 
One autumn eve I sat alone 
Beside my study fire ; 
I’d written long, and eyes and head 
And fingers ’gan to tire. 
I rose to shut my desk, and go— 
Quite weary—half asleep— 
A book fell open as I moved; 
E’en sleepy eyes must peep; 
And, pictured on its page, I saw 
The portrait of a friend, 
Whose smiling face bade my dull thoughts 
To happy memories wend. 
It was the tall, sweet-scented Flag, 
Lay pictured there so true, 
I could have deemed some fairy hand 
The faithful image drew. 
The falchion-leaves, all long and sharp; 
The stem, like a tall leaf too, 
Except where, halfway up its side, 
A cone-shaped flower-spike grew, 
Like a lady’s finger, taper, long, 
From end to end arrayed 
