God made a little Gentian-
It tried-to be a Rose-
And failed-and all the Summer laughed-
But just before the Snows

There rose a Purple Creature-
That ravished all the Hill-
And Summer hid her Forehead-
And Mockery-was still-

The Frosts were her condition-
The Tyrian would not come
Until the North-invoke it-
Creator-Shall I-bloom?