20 OLD PLYMOUTH TRAILS 



fore the first Englishman heard of them, made 

 this his burial hill and that somewhere beneath 

 its forests his bones lie to this day. I sought 

 long for mayflowers on the seaward slopes and 

 in the rough gullies of these "highlands of 

 Plymouth," I did not find them there. 



On the landward slopes, gentler and less wind- 

 swept, down toward the "sweet waters" that flow 

 from inland to the sea, you may with patient 

 search find many. But the heights shall reward 

 you, if not with mayflowers with greater and 

 more lasting joys. The woods of Manomet were 

 full of butterflies. Splendid specimens of Van- 

 essa antiopa danced together by twos and threes 

 in every sunny glade, the gold edging of bright 

 rai-ment showing beneath their "mourning 

 cloaks" of rich seal brown. Here in the rich 

 sunshine Launcelot might well have said : 



Myself beheld three spirits, mad with joy, 

 Come dashing down on a tall wayside flower. 



Here Grapta interrogationis carried his ever 

 present question mark from one dry leaf to an- 

 other asking always that unanswerable "why?" 

 Here Pyrameis huntera, well named the hunter's 

 butterfly, flashed red through the woodland, 



