THE POETRY OF FLOW CRS. 
157 
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 no! 
save,— 
So some deep-grounded root or visible seed, 
When these heart-blossoms fade, may still 
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 dwells 
Beneath the Indian’s stately doom. 
Or freely throw's its fragrant spells 
Around his lowly home,— 
Fed only by that sacred air 
That, as a spirit, hovers there ! 
