WILD-FLOWER SONNETS. 



LADY'S TRESSES. 



(SPIRAXTHES.) 



summer flowers have shut their sunny eyes, 

 And summer birds to southern lands have 



flown ; 



When crickets chant their drowsy monotone, 

 And sadly through the pines the south wind sighs ; 

 When over hill and plain in lavish tides 

 The golden-rod its garnered sunshine sheds, 

 And asters, white and purple, nod their heads, 

 And seem to say, " Naught that is fair abides ! " 

 Ah, then, in shady lane and grassy field, 

 What new delight thy slender spires to find, 

 With tress of hyacinthine bells entwined! 

 Fragrance like thine no rose of June can yield : 

 No lily can eclipse thy snow, dear prize, 

 Flung backward from sweet Summer as she flies. 

 SEPTEMBER. 



