Chapter 133 No.133

I sat up. All was still again.

I breathed free: to my heart, back fled

The warmth. "But, all the world!"-I said.

I stooped and picked a leaf of fern,

And recollected I might learn

From books, how many myriad sorts

Of fern exist, to trust reports,

Each as distinct and beautiful

As this, the very first I cull.

Think, from t