186 CHILDHOOD. 
I can remember, as to-day, 
The corn-field and the reaping, 
The rustling of the harvest-sheaves, 
And the harvest-wain’s upheaping : 
I can feel, this hour, as if I lay 
Adown ‘neath the hazel bushes, 
And as if we wove, for pastime wild, 
Our grenadier-caps of rushes. 
And every flower within that field 
To my memory’s eye comes flitting, 
‘The chiccory-flower, like a blue cockade, 
For a fairy-knight befitting. 
The willow-herb by the water side, 
With its fruit-like scent so mellow; 
The gentian blue on the marly hill, 
And the snap-dragon white and yellow. 
I know where the hawthorn groweth red; 
Where pink grows the way-side yarrow ; 
T remember the wastes of woad and broom, 
And the shrubs of the red rest-harrow. 
