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DORA READ GOODALE
American poet
(1866 - 1915)

Bright summer is crowned with roses; deep in the forest arbutus doth hide.
      - [Summer]

Now the tender, sweet arbutus,
  Trail's her blossom-clustered vines,
    And the many-fingered cinquefoil
      In the shadow hollow twines.
      - [Arbutus]

Where the woodland streamlets flow,
  Gushing down a rocky bed,
    Where the tasselled alders grow;
      Lightly meeting overhead,
        When the fullest August days
          Give the richness that they know,
            Then the wild clematis comes,
              With her wealth of tangled blooms.
                Reaching up and drooping low.
                  But when Autumn days are here,
                    And the woods of Autumn burn,
                      Then her leaves are black and sere,
                        Quick with early frosts to turn!
                          As the golden Summer dies,
                            So her silky green has fled,
                              And the smoky clusters rise
                                As from fires of sacrifice,--
                                  Sacred incense to the dead!
      - [Clematis]

The Autumn wood the aster knows,
  The empty nest, the wind that grieves,
    The sunlight breaking thro' the shade,
      The squirrel chattering overhead,
        The timid rabbits lighter tread
          Among the rustling leaves.
      - Asters [Asters]

A blossom of returning light,
  An April flower of sun and dew;
    The earth and sky, the day and night
      Are melted in her depth of blue!
      - Blue Violets [Violets]

Whence is yonder flower so strangely bright?
  Would the sunset's last reflected shine
    Flame so red from that dead flush of light?
      Dark with passion is its lifted line,
        Hot, alive, amid the falling night.
      - Cardinal Flower [Cardinal Flowers : Flowers]

All the woodland path is broken
  By broken tints along the way,
    And the low and sunny slope
      Is alive with sudden hope
        When there comes the silent token
          Of an April day,--
            Blue hepatica!
      - Hepatica [Hepaticas]

I love the fair lilies and roses so gay,
  They are rich in their pride and their splendor;
    But still more do I love to wander away
      To the meadow so sweet,
        Where down at my feet,
          The harebell blooms modest and tender.
      - Queen Harebell [Harebells]

Crimson clover I discover
  By the garden gate,
    And the bees about her hover,
      But the robins wait.
        Sing, robins, sing,
          Sing a roundelay,--
            'Tis the latest flower of Spring
              Coming with the May!
      - Red Clover [Clover]

The modest, lowly violet
  In leaves of tender green is set;
    So rich she cannot hide from view,
      But covers all the bank with blue.
      - Spring Scatter Far and Wide [Violets]

And in the woods a fragrance rare
  Of wild azaleas fills the air,
    And richly tangled overhead
      We see their blossoms sweet and red.
      - Spring Scatters Far and Wide [Azaleas]


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