Sprung in a cleft of the wayside steep,
And saucily nodding, flushing deep,
With her airy tropic bells aglow,–
Bold and careless, yet formed light,
And swung into poise on the stony height,
Like a challenge flung to the world below!
Skirting the rocks at the forest edge
With a running flame from ledge to ledge,
Or swaying deeper in shadowy glooms,
A smoldering fire in her dusky blooms;
Bronzed and molded by wind and sun,
Maddening, gladdening every one
With a gypsy beauty full and fine,–
A health to the crimson columbine!