FABLES OF FLORA 
45 
A few slow, heavy turns he took, 
When, chancing carelessly to look 
In a small, sunny, unpaved nook, 
He saw a simple flower. 
He stopped. The hot blood filled his brain, 
Then hurried to his heart again — 
For in that one short glance, 
His childhood’s home, his mother’s love, 
The meadows where he used to rove, 
When he was guiltless as a dove, 
Before him seemed to dance. 
He fell upon his knees and wept, 
While through his brain in madness swept 
The long and horrid past; 
That simple Dandelion woke 
Remembrances that had not spoke 
For scores of years! — The spell once broke, 
Love did its work at last! 
