Thou blossom! bright with autumn dew, And colourd with the heavens own blue, That openest when the quiet light Succeeds the keen and frosty night. BryantTo the Fringed Gentian.
Beside the brook and on the umbered meadow, Where yellow fern-tufts fleck the faded ground, With folded lids beneath their palmy shadow The gentian nods in dewy slumbers bound. Sarah Helen WhitmanA Still Day in Autumn. St. 6.