Page:A Treasury of South African Poetry.djvu/108



Beauty born of winds and suns,
 * Lithe strength of storms and showers,

She gathered nature's graces once
 * Who sleeps beneath the flowers.

The peaks that pierce the deepest hue
 * Though lofty, free, and still,

Shine with no light of quickening dew
 * Like lowly vale and hill.

Roses from polluted soil
 * Draw delicious odours forth,

So doth virtue's secret toil
 * Sweeten noisome dens of earth.

The flower that on the arid rock
 * Shows all her rich attire,

Is like the face that smiles to mock
 * Fate's fell and fierce desire.

Herbert Price.