FABLES OF FLORA. 105 
« Ah me! ’ the lonely stranger said, 
‘ The hope which led my footsteps on, 
And light from heaven around them shed, 
O’er weary wave and waste, is gone! 
‘ Where are the harvest-fields, all white, 
For Truth to thrust her sickle in ? 
Where flock the souls, like doves in flight, 
From the dark hiding-place of sin ? 
‘ A silent horror broods o’er all — 
The burden of a baleful spell — 
The very flowers around recall 
The hoary Magi’s rites of hell! 
‘ And what am I, o’er such a land 
The banner of the Cross to bear? — 
Dear Lord, uphold me with thy hand! 
Thy strength with human weakness share! ’ 
He ceased; for at his very feet, 
In mild rebuke, a floweret smiled — 
How thrilled his sinking heart to greet 
The Star-flower of the Virgin’s Child! 
Sown by some wandering Frank, it drew 
Its life from alien air and earth; 
And told to Paynim sun and dew 
The story of the Saviour’s birth. 
