340 POEMS 
See ! how they scatter and then assemble ; 
Filling the air while the blossoms fade, — 
Delicate atoms, that whirl and tremble 
In the slanting sunlight that skirts the glade. 
There goes the summer’s inconstant lover, 
Drifting and wandering, faint and far ; 
Only bewailed by the upland plover, 
Watched by only the twilight star. 
Come next August, when thistles blossom, 
See how each is alive with wings! 
Butterflies seek their souls in its bosom, 
Changed thenceforth to immortal things, 
DECORATION 
“ Manibus O date lilia plenis.”’ 
Mop the flower-wreathed tombs I stand 
Bearing lilies in my hand. 
Comrades! in what soldier-grave 
Sleeps the bravest of the brave? 
Ts it he who sank to rest 
With his colors round his breast ? 
Friendship makes his tomb a shrine ; 
Garlands veil it : ask not mine. 
