THE JUNE MEADOWS 71 



certainly add an important quota to the brilliant 

 prospect, have not been taken into account, as 

 they fall somewhat outside our present purpose. 



In his poem, " In Praise of June," Leigh Hunt 

 sings : 



"May, by coming first in sight, 

 Half defrauds thee of thy right; 

 For her best is shared by thee 

 With a wealthier potency ; 

 So that thou dost bring us in 

 A sort of May-time masculine."' 



But this is only in small part true of these 

 Alpine fields. There is, to be sure, something 

 of the May fields in the June fields, but all of 

 May's best is certainly not shared by June— not, 

 that is to say, unless we climb up higher than 

 we intend to do. The Crocus and Soldanella 

 have gone; they came "to show the paths that 

 June must tread," not to tread those paths with 

 the Orchid and the Lily. Gone, also, is the pure 

 yellow-petalled Mountain Geum. The Marsh 

 Marigold, too, is no longer with us in rich, 

 golden crowds; nor does the Mealy Primula 

 spread its rosy carpet over acre upon acre. One 



