Canadian Born

by Emily Pauline Johnson



Fire-Flowers


 

And only where the forest fires have sped,
      Scorching relentlessly the cool north lands,
A sweet wild flower lifts its purple head,
And, like some gentle spirit sorrow-fed,
      It hides the scars with almost human hands.
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And only to the heart that knows of grief,
      Of desolating fire, of human pain,
There comes some purifying sweet belief,
Some fellow-feeling beautiful, if brief,
      And life revives, and blossoms once again. [Page 54]
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