IN SILENT WOODS 121 



haps why a female not financially interested in salt 

 hay should come that way, when low August tides 

 leave the marsh tract a freehold to the breeding 

 mosquito swarms. And, truly, crossing that marsh 

 road is for both man and beast to withstand the 

 attack of a million flying warriors, whose swords 

 are needles. But once over and safe within the 

 Oak shade, the eye refocused from the glare of the 

 noon sun, the picture repaid for all. 



A wheel -track road between low banks was 

 edged with giant brakes and golden wands of the 

 Yellow Gerardias. Beneath the Oaks a glow was 

 spread among deepest shadows, as if the sunbeams 

 sifting through the leaves were made prisoners 

 where they lodged upon the undergrowth. Over 

 and through this color, as a background, lay the 

 marshes, with a thin covering of water here and 

 there, the spaces between the pools blue with Sea 

 Lavender. 



Another landscape flower to swell the list of 

 the unpaintable; another blossom of a day, too 

 frail to pick, unless, as I did, you shake the opened 

 florets off and trust to the opening of to-morrow's 

 buds for your reward. 



Not since the days when the green outer walls 

 of the Lilac House hung with flowers had I heard 



