INFLUENCES.
The southern bird, which, swift in airy speed,
Toward ruder regions wings its careless way,
Wafts from its plumage oft a floating seed,
Unheeded relic of some tropic day.
And lo! a wonder! on the spot beneath
The tiny germ asserts its mystic power;
With sudden bloom illumes the rugged heath,
And bursts at once to fragrance, light, and flower.
All the sad woodland flushes at the sight:
The brook, which murmured, sparkles now, and sings:
The cowslips watch, with yearning, strange delight,
The bird which shed such glories from its wings,
Watching it hover onward free and far;
Breathing farewell with restless doubt and pain.
What were a heaven with but one only star?
Must this be all? Will it not come again?
While the new lily, lonely in her pride,
Sighing through silver bells, repeats the strain,
Longing for sister blossoms at her side,
And whispering soft, Will it not come again?
Charles Carroll.