Sursum Corda :: :: University of Virginia Library

Pale little sister of rich red roses,
Wild little sister of garden queens,
Art thou content that thy flower uncloses
Here where the land to the ocean leans?

They, where the lawns are soft and shaded,
Hold their court amid eyes that gaze;
Thou by the lone sea liv'st, and faded
Fall thy leaves on the salt sea sprays.

Smitten of every storm that blusters,
Crushed by the mimic avalanche,
Bravely still thy delicate clusters
Laugh from thicket and thorny branch.

Naught may we know of all thou knowest,
All that the soft wind brings to thee?
Under the cliff-top where thou growest
Sail the ships to the open sea;

Art not thou and thy flowers clinging
Ghosts of many a sad farewell,
Fluttering home from the ships, and bringing
Tidings that loving hearts would tell?

Or art thou rather a blithe fore-comer
Blown by winds from the homeward ships,
A kiss turned flower in the breath of summer,
A word that has quickened from eager lips?

Nay! though sweet as the longed-for hour,
Bright as the face we yearn to see,
Nothing thou art but a fair wild flower,
Growing where God has planted thee.