124 FABLES OF FLORA. 
Beside a group of lone Star-flowers, 
That fading on the brown slope stood, 
He paused —and silent there, for hours, 
Sat gazing on the rustling wood. 
Ho saw not then the brilliant dyes 
That changed and mingled in the breeze — 
Old hopes bedimmed his youthful eyes — 
They faded earlier than the trees! 
At length his mournful gaze he turned 
On the pale Asters at his side — 
A sudden flame of anguish burned 
Within his soul — ‘ O, flowers! ’ he cried, 
' Ye were not fairer in your bloom, 
Than were the glorious truths that rose 
Like star-flowers in my soul, to illume 
The midnight of my people’s woes! 
‘ But though they burst in brilliant light 
Along the dreary waste of sin, 
There came a cold and deadly blight, 
That cast them to the earth again 1 
Injustice, ignorance, and scorn, 
Their blended gusts of passion poured, 
And truths, of heavenly Wisdom born, 
Soon darkly perished, undeplored! ’ 
