A spring there is, whose silver waters show — Lotus

"The Lotos blooms below the barren peak: The Lotos blooms by every winding creek: All day the wind breathes low with mellower tone: Thro every hollow cave and alley lone, Round and round the spicy downs the yellow Lotos-dust is blown."

"Where drooping lotos-flowers, distilling balm, Dream by the drowsy streamlets sleep hath crownd, While Care forgets to sigh, and Peace hath balsamed Pain."

"Lotos, the name; divine, nectareous juice!"

"The lotus flower is troubled At the suns resplendent light; With sunken head and sadly She dreamily waits for the night."

"Oh! what are the brightest that eer have blown To the lote-tree, springing by Allas throne, Whose flowers have a soul in every leaf."

"The lotos bowed above the tide and dreamed."