48 



BIRDS AND FLOWERS. 



But we are lingering late. The nighthawks are 

 squawking overhead, the swifts are circling about, 

 and the swallows fly low. The air is pure and sweet, 

 but the mists are rising. There is a purple gloom on 

 Eattlesnake, and the State House dome and the spires 

 of Concord look faint in the evening light. We will 

 go home by the pass- way under the Montreal track 

 while an Emily Dickinson sunset still lingers over 

 Horseshoe Pond : 



"There seemed a purple stile 



Which, little yellow boys and girls 

 Were climbing all the while. 



Till when they reached the other side, 



A dominie in gray 

 Put gently up the evening bars, 



And led the flock away." 



June 9, 1906. 



