Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.
By William CullenBryant88 To the Fringed Gentian
T
And colored with the heaven’s own blue,
That openest when the quiet light
Succeeds the keen and frosty night,
O’er wandering brooks and springs unseen,
Or columbines, in purple dressed,
Nod o’er the ground-bird’s hidden nest.
When woods are bare and birds are flown,
And frost and shortening days portend
The aged year is near his end.
Look through its fringes to the sky,
Blue—blue—as if that sky let fall
A flower from its cerulean wall.
The hour of death draw near to me,
Hope, blossoming within my heart,
May look to heaven as I depart.