Floral Poetry. 
111 
LESSONS FROM THE GORSE. 
M OUNTAIN Gorses, ever-golden, 
Cankered not the whole year long ! 
Do ye teach us to be strong, 
Howsoever pricked and holden, 
Like your thorny blooms, and so, 
Trodden on by rain and snow, 
Up the hill-side of this life, as bleak as where ye grow ? 
Mountain blossoms, shining blossoms, 
Do ye teach us to be glad, 
When no Summer can be had, 
Blooming in our inward bosoms ? 
Ye, whom God preserveth still, 
Set as lights upon a hill, 
Tokens to the wintry earth that Beauty liveth still! 
Mountain Gorses, do ye teach us 
From that academic chair, 
Canopied with azure air, 
That the wisest word man reaches 
Is the humblest he can speak? 
Ye, who live on mountain peak, 
Yet live low along the ground, beside the grasses meek ! 
Mountain Gorses, since Linnreus 
Knelt beside you on the sod, 
For your beauty thanking God, — 
For your teaching—ye should see us 
Bowing in prostration new ! 
Whence arisen,—if one or two 
Drops be on our cheeks — O, world, they are not tears but dew. 
Elizabeth B. Browning. 
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