102 Idylls of the Field. 



brambles ; the elder spreads broad discs to tempt the 

 winged crowds. 



And fairest of all flowers of summer the sweet June 

 roses bloom on all their swaying sprays. Some, with 

 generous beauty opened to the full, a soft flush on 

 their wide, scented petals. Others, still folded close, 

 just part their rosy lips to breathe a tender perfume on 

 the air. 



And though the midsummer meadows have lost 

 something of the bold colouring of spring ; though 

 there are no sheets of daisies now, no broad unbroken 

 acres of buttercup gold, fhere is a fuller beauty on the 

 fields of June. Tall ox-eye daisies, white and pure, 

 are strewn like stars among the waving grass. Red 

 plumes of sorrel, patches of yellow-rattle, and sweet 

 beds of clover, set all the fields aglow. 



The ditches that drain these level sweeps of marsh- 

 land are outlined by young rushes, bright and warm, 

 over whose forest of green lance-points the ragged 

 robin waves its crimson flags. And brighter still 

 than all, the orchis blooms. Some there are, all pale 

 and colourless, and poised like plumes of white on 

 shafts of green ; others tinged with soft shades of 

 lavender; others again whose spikes of rich imperial 

 purple shine like fire along the ground. White tufts 

 of cotton-grass are sprinkled here and there, and 

 down among the sedges, half hidden by the tall, 

 green blades, blue flowers of milkwort droop their 

 timid heads. 



