Marsh Flowers

Here the strong mallow strikes her slimy root
Here the dull night-shade hangs her deadly fruit;

On hills of dust the henbane's faded green
And pencill'd flower of sickly scent is seen;

Here on its wiry stem, in rigid bloom
Grows the salt lavender that lacks perfume

At the wall's base the fiery nettle springs
With fruit globose and fierce with poison'd stings;

In every chink delights the fern to grow
With glossy leaf and tawny bloom below:

Thе few dull flowers that o'er thе place are spread
Partake the nature of their fenny bed

These, with our sea-weeds, rolling up and down
Form the contracted Flora of our town