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THE GERANIUM PLANT AT SEA.
Hold up thy head, thou timid voyager,
Vex'd by the storm-clouds, as they darkly roll,
And by the fiercely-tossing waves, that stir
Thy slender root, and try thy trembling soul,
Sad change from thy sweet garden, where the dew
Each morning glistened in thy grateful eye,
And where the roughest guest thy bosom knew,
Was earnest bee, or gadding butterfly,
It grieves me sore, to see thy leaflets fade,
Wearing the plague-spot of the sickening spray,
