246 THE MOUNTAIN. 



ing from the earth each season, germinating, flowering, and 

 seeding, then withering and dying, having but one short 

 summer to publish their little lives, "sparkle, and expire." 

 These many-painted forms rise as if by magic; endless 

 variety in unity, and unity in endless variety, is the song 

 they sing. In this world the graces and loves seem to 

 reign, for of the grace and beauty of posies, and the posi- 

 tive loves of flowers, who has not heard? Why this 

 untold riches, why this infinite diversity of form, why this 

 exhaustless profusion of dyes, only for beauty, only for 

 thought and spirit ? So would sing the poet the secret of 

 their spirit and life which "the ages have kept." 



"If I knew 



Only the herbs and simples of the wood, 

 Kue, cinquefoil, gill, vervain, and agrimony, 

 Blue-vetch, and trillium, hawkweed, sassafras, 

 Milkweeds, and murky brakes, quaint pipes, sundew, 

 And rare and virtuous roots, which in these woods 

 Draw untold juices from the common earth, 

 Untold, unknown, and I could surely spell 

 Their fragrance, and their chemistry apply 

 By sweet affinities to human flesh, 

 Driving the foe and 'stablishing the friend, 

 Oh, that were much ! and I could be a part 

 Of the round day related to the sun 

 And planted world, and full executor 

 Of their imperfect functions." 



This "sweet affinity to human flesh" is the great fact of 

 their being, and is quite a sufficient excuse for their existence. 

 The mountain is rich in its array of flowering plants, some 

 of which are Alpine in their characters. In the order of 

 their appearance, the first that attract attention are 

 the vernal flowers. These, as in all high mountain lo- 

 calities, rush rapidly into life the moment the frost has 

 liberated the surface from its power. They spring from 

 the soil in a multitude of graceful forms. Some of them 

 are peculiar, and belong exclusively to mountains, seem- 



