Page:Poems Hoffman.djvu/301

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Ye have caught the sapphire color,
In each little silken whorl,
Of your native skies, nor duller
Flecked with clouds of purest pearl.

Ox-eye daisies on the prairie,
Garden daisies, old in song;
Daisies coarse and daisies airy
To this royal line belong.

Theirs is not a lordly title
But a changeless, fadeless name;
Virtue's just, deserved requital;
Man might covet such a fame.

Hands have torn the Alpine gentian
From its glacier home away,
Gathered gems, 'twere vain to mention,
From the Tropics rich array.

Fuchsias from Brazilian ranges,
Callas from the storied Nile,
Each its native climate changes,
River, range, or ocean isle.

But to every land they carry
Facts, where fancy's eyes can see
Some lone haunt of fern or fairy
Where they flourished, wild and free;

So they make a pretty day dream
That their bursting buds embloom,
Ever wrought of shade and sunbeam,
Never touched by glare or gloom.

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