WILD FLOWERS. 93 
And in the shorn hedge grew bush eglantine, 
Green cowbird, and the moonlight-colored May, 
And cherry blossoms, and white cups, whose wind 
Was the bright dew yet drained not by the day, 
And wild roses, and ivy serpentine, 
With its dark buds and leaves wandering astray; 
And flowers azure, black and streaked with gold, 
Fairer than any wakened eyes behold. 
The Crocus. 
Dainty young thing 
Of life! thou venturous flower, 
Who growest through the hard cold bower 
Of wintry spring.. 
Thou various hued, 
Soft, voiceless hell, whose spire 
Rocks in the grassy leaves like wire 
In solitude.' 
