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WILD FLOWERS. 
Field Flowers. 
Ys field flowers! the gardens eclipse you, ’tis true, 
Yet, wildlings of Nature, I dote upon you, 
For ye waft me to summers of old, 
When the earth teemed around me with fairy 
delight, 
And when daisies and buttercups gladdened my sight, 
Like treasures of silver and gold. 
I love you for lulling me back into dreams 
Of the blue Highland mountains and echoing 
streams 
And of birchen glades breathing their balm, 
While the deer was seen glancing in sunshine re¬ 
mote, 
And the deep mellow crush of the wood pigeon’s note 
Made music that sweetened the calm. 
