80 FABLES OF FLORA. 
Yet vain his love, for sad regret 
The Kalmia’s burning heart consumed j 
The free-born flower could ne’er forget 
The joy that once its life illumed. 
It breathed its sorrows to the maid 
Who sat in tears beneath its shade. 
1 1 weary for the dazzling light 
That on the mountain torrent plays, 
And for the cold and starry night 
That wraps the gray rocks in its haze, 
And for the free winos, and the roar 
Of waves that lash the mountain shore. 
1 1 yearn to hear the eagle’s scream 
Around the tall and blasted pine, 
To see the northern lightnings gleam 
Along the mountain’s waving line, 
To feel the stormy western breeze 
Come rustling through the strong old trees. 
‘ I droop, I die in this soft scene; 
O, give me back my mountain home! 
O, give me back the glacier's sheen, 
Tlie mantling cloud, the torrent’s foam! 
Bear me far hence, away, away, 
Where wild winds howl, and lightnings play.’ 
