BEACH-PLUM. 



T IKE childhood's smile, half trusting, half afraid, 

 A thought of Spring steals o'er the landscape's 



face; 



Told in the slender wind-flower's lissome grace, 

 Breathed from the Ar'butus, that loves the shade, 

 Writ in the deep'ning blue of sea and sky, 

 And look where, whipt by winds from east and north, 

 The sturdy Beach-Plum puts her blossoms forth. 

 A wonder of white beauty to the eye, 

 A sphinx half buried in the shifting sand. 

 I would thy pretty riddle I could guess, 

 Of prudent thrift that looks like lavishness, 

 Of Autumn fruitage in chill Springtime planned; 

 Or learn by what rare craft, what hidden hands, 

 Thou hoardest ruby wine from these salt sands. 

 MAY. 



15 



