THE POETRY OF FLOW ERS. 
151 
And if those children of the insensate earth 
Go down in peace to a prolific grave,— 
If Nature raises in continuous birth 
The plant whose present grace she will not 
save,—• 
So some deep-grounded root or visible seed, 
When these heart-blossoms fade, may stilt 
remain, 
In a new season of thy being, decreed 
To rise to light and loveliness again. 
—-*— 
THE FRAGRANT AIR-FLOWER. 
BY T. K. HERVEY. 
Men say there is a gentle flower, 
That, born beneath an eastern sky, 
Without the gift of sun or shower, 
Gives out its precious sigh. 
That—with affection—sweetly dwell# 
Beneath the Indian’s stately doom 
Or freely throws its fragrant spells 
Around his lowly home,— 
Fed only by that sacred air 
That, as a spirit, hovers there S 
