92 
WILD FLOWERS. 
A Dream of Spring Flowers. 
I dreamed that, as I wandered by the way, 
Bare Winter suddenly was changed to Spring, 
And gentle odors led my steps astray 
Mixed with a sound of waters murmuring 
Along a shelving bank of turf, which lay 
Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling 
Its green arms round the bosom of the stream, 
But kissed it and then fled, as thou mightest in a 
dream. 
There grew pied wind-flowers and violets, 
Daisies, those pearled Arcturi of the earth, 
The constellated that never sets; 
Faint ox-lips; tender blue-bells, at whose birth 
The sod scarce heaved; and that tall flower that 
wets 
Its mother’s face with heaven collected tears, 
When the low wind, its playmate’s voice, it hears. 
