176 BIRD NOTES 



One wore the rose, and one the jessamine, 

 And one the mignonette and pansy-flower. 

 But I was crowned with solitary heath, 

 And midst the purple bunches there was set 

 ('That's for simplicity,' our mother said)^ 

 The single rose, thornless and evergreen, 

 The white Leonida. 



The warm day passed, 



And all the wreaths lay dead save mine alone, 

 Which flourished still a night-sky set with stars 

 For though the petals fell, the shining leaves 

 And golden stamens of the roses stayed. 

 Upon an ancient mirror it was hung. 

 And there remained for many and many a day, 

 And then it vanished whither, who can tell ? 



For me, I think it passed into my life, 

 And crowns it still ; for, single and alone, 

 I've trod a thornless path and colourless ; 

 Dreaming of beauty on the purple hills, 

 And listening to the music of the winds. 

 Therefore, Mother, make a patch of heath 

 Of my old bones, a patch of purple heath ; 

 Not large, obtrusive ; let the grass grow too 

 For, Mother Earth, there is not much of me. 



August 27, 1882. 



THE LIBRARY 



UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 



