WILD FLOWERS. 61 
Scene from “Pan’s Anniversary.” 
Strew, strew the glad and smiling ground 
With every flower, yet not confound, 
The primrose drop, the Spring’s own spouse, 
Bright day’s eyes, and the lips of cows, 
The garden star, the queen of May 
The rose, to crown the holy-day. 
Drop, drop your violets, change your hues, 
Now red, now pale, as lovers use, 
And in your death go out as well 
As when you lived unto the smell; 
That from your odor all may say 
This is the shepherd’s holy-day. 
SHEPHERD. 
Well done, my pretty ones—rain roses still, 
Until the last he dropt; then hence, and fill 
Your fragrant prickles for a second shower, 
Bring corn-flags, tulips, and Adonis-flower, 
Fair ox-eye, goldy-locks, and columbine, 
