THE PETRIFIED FERN.
N a valley, centuries ago,
Grew a little fernleaf, green and slender,
Veining delicate and fibres tender,
Waving when the wind crept down so low;
Rushes tall, and moss, and grass grew round it;
Playful sunbeams darted in and found it,
Drops of dew stole in by night and crowned it;