48 THE FRIENDSHIP OF NATURE 



the other scars of toil. Stretching 

 beyond, you see a cool, close lane, with 

 lines of grass between the tracks of 

 hoofs and wheel, and it invites, yes, 

 quite compels, the tread of willing feet. 

 There are no fences here; where they 

 were once a living barrier has sprung 

 from their decay, and willows luxuriate. 

 Tall sumach bushes follow up the line, 

 then hickory saplings, silver birches, 

 and choke-cherry trees, with here and 

 there a group of sassafras or young 

 maples, while wild grape vines bind 

 the whole into a leafy wall, and freight 

 the air with the fragrance of their 

 blossoms. Meadow-rue sends up its 

 foamy-tipped stalks above the pink 

 milkweed whose globes are food for 

 butterflies, and glowing wild roses, 

 crimson more than pink, from the deep, 

 strong soil, powder the blundering 

 bumblebees with gold pollen. On 



