FIELD FLOWERS 

 even as those who bear it lie concealed, 

 stoop forward, or stand ere6l in the 

 corn and in the grass. 



These are the few names that are 

 known to all of us ; we do not know the 

 others, though their music describes 

 with the same gentleness, the same 

 happy genius, flowers which we see by 

 every wayside and upon all the paths. 

 Thus, at this moment, that is to say, at 

 the end of the month in which the ripe 

 corn falls beneath the reaper's sickle, 

 the banks of the roads are a pale vio- 

 let: it is the Sweet Scabious, who has 

 blossomed at last, discreet, aristocrati- 

 cally poor and modestly beautiful, as 

 her title, that of a mist-veiled precious 

 stone, proclaims. Around her, a trea- 

 C 71 ] 



