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Popular Studies of California Wild Flozvers 



The Ceanothus 



My hills are Poets; all the year 

 They sing to me their lays sublime; 



They sing you songs with voices clear 

 And sweetest sing in April time. 



Then they their purple robes put on, 

 Robes spun in April's Lilac looms, 



Their royal flowered robes they don, 

 For then the Ceanothus blooms! 



Oh! Kingly Poets are my hills; 



But kingliest in April time, 

 For then each green breast gladdest 

 thrills 



And pulses with most royal rhyme. 



These are the days, the singers' days, 

 When my King-Poets send aloft 



Their highest, purest songs of praise, 

 Strains of the Ceanothus soft. 



Faint, faint at -first, then deeper toned, 

 Till all the banks are gowned and capcd, 



And my hill monarchs, high enthroned, 

 Are in the Ceanothus draped. 



Stay, Spring, still let my monarchs 



wear 

 Their robes and sing their songs 



sublime. 



Let it be April all the year, 

 And always Ceanothus time. 



BAILEY MILI.ARD. 



