slim gean at the edge of the woodland catches The 

 the spray, the twisted crab is an old woman Awakener 

 suddenly become a lovely girl cream-white and Woods 

 rose-flusht. Or she goes down the island- 

 shores, or by the brackened coasts of inland 

 lochs, or along the overhanging brows of 

 streams, or where brooks glide between grassy 

 banks ; or, facing northward, she wanders 

 where the hill-burn falls from ledge to ledge, 

 or leaps past the outswung roots of mountain- 

 ash or birch, or steals between peaty grasses 

 where the wren has her nest in the pendent 

 bramble and the greenfinch calls across the 

 fern. And wherever she goes the yellow iris 

 is left by her feet, the yellow-white willow- 

 catkins have become musical with a myriad 

 bees, dust of gold has fallen into the milk- 

 white snow of the countless clans of the daisy, 

 tides of an invisible flood have foamed along 

 the hawthorns, the wild crocus has shone like 

 the spear of Pisarr, the buttercup is brimmed 

 with golden wine, and even the kingcup-ingots 

 are melted in the waters — for whence else can 

 come that flowing gold which is blent with 

 yonder moving emerald that is as the breath of 

 the grass, yonder floating azure as of drowned 

 speedwells, yonder wandering violet, child of 

 shadow and the wind, yonder mysterious 

 phantom of pale mauve which tells that a 



"5 



