TO A WIND FLOWER 277 



We marked upon the self-same spot 



A crowd of veterans talking. 

 They shook their trembling heads and gray 



With pride and noiseless laughter; 

 When, well-a-day! they blew away, 



And ne'er were heard of after! 



TO A WIND FLOWER 



BY MADISON CAWEIN 



TEACH me the secret of thy loveliness, 



That, being made wise, I may aspire to be 



As beautiful in thought, and so express 

 Immortal truths to earth's mortality; 



Though to my soul ability be less 

 Than 'tis to thee, O sweet anemone. 



Teach me the secret of thy innocence, 



That in simplicity I may grow wise, 

 Asking from Art no other recompense 



Than the approval of her own just eyes; 

 So may I rise to some fair eminence, 



Though less than thine, O cousin of the skies. 



Teach me these things, through whose high knowl- 

 edge, I 



When Death hath poured oblivion through my 

 veins, 



