289 — 



WILD COREOPSIS. 



A sea of blossoms, golden as the glow 



Of morning sunlight on a wind-rocked bay, 

 Beneath the breeze of this rare autumn day- 

 Heaves in soft undulation to and fro ; 

 Like insence. floating o'er the marsh below, 

 Come fragrant odors of the late-mown hay $ 

 Beyond, in harmony of green and gray, 

 The tapering tamaracks tower in stately row. 



And wading through the shimmering waves with song 

 Upon his lips, a fair-haired youth 1 see, 

 Who swings off the saffron blossom bells 5 



Back roll the years — a melancholy throng — 

 And I beheld in sea-girt Sicily 

 Theocritus amid the asphodels 1 



Clinton Scollard. 



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