I read once of a flower that lonely grew, br Apart, with trembling stem and pale of hue; br The mountain-world of cold and strife br Gave little life br And less of color. br br A botanist the flower chanced to see br And glad exclaimed: Oh, this must sheltered be, br Must seed produce, renewing birth, br In sun-warmed earth br Become a thousand. br br But as he dug and drew it from the ground, br Strange glitterings upon his hands he found; br For to its roots clung dust of golden hue; br The flower grew br On golden treasure! br br And from the region wide came all the youth br To see the wonder; they divined the truth: br Here lay their country's future might; br A ray of light br From God that flower!- br br This I recall now even while I mourn; br The Lord of life has lifted him and borne br From mountain-cold and wintry air br To fruitage fair br In warmth eternal. br br For where the roots were of that life replete, br What gleams and glitters! See, they ran to meet br The shafts of wisdom's goodly mines, br The gold that shines br In veins of God's thought. br br Now he is lifted up, to light are brought br The riches he to guard so faithful sought. br The treasures of our past are there, br And glintings rare br Of future riches.