* owi? IN BERKSHIRE WILD FLOWERS IN BERKSHIRE WITH THE WILD FLOWERS BY Elaine and Dora Read Good ale AUTHORS OF "APPLE BLOSSOMS" ILLUSTRATED BY W. HAMILTON G LB SON 379. ^ XL W YORK G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 1S2 Fifth Avenue 1879-80 73 C Szts- COPYRIGHT 1S79 bv g. r. putnam's sons Wtvm CONTENTS. Opening Poem Trailing Arbutus. . .{Epigea repots.) Hepatica {Hepatica triloba.) Anemone {Anemone nemorosa.) Bloodroot (Sanguinaria Canadensis.) Blue Violets ( Viola sagittata.) White Violets {Viola blanda.) Meadow Rue {Thalictrum dioicum.) Trillium {Trillium erectum.) Wild Oat {Uvularia sessifolia.) COLUMBINE {Aquilegia Canadensis.) Blue-eyed Grass . . . .{Sisyrinchium Bermndiana.) Wild Azalea {Azalea nudijlora.) Moccasin Flower . . .{Cypripedium acaule.) Daisies {Chrysanthemum leucanthemum. Sweet-Brier {Rosa rubiginosa.) Harebell {Campanula rotundifolia.) Mountain Laurel . . .{Kalmia latifolia.) White Clover {Tri folium repens.) Red Clover {Trifolium pratense.) Meadow Lilies {Lilium Canadense.) Wood Lilies {Lilium Philadelphicum.) Wild Clematis {Clematis Virginiana.) 7 Elaine Goodale. Elaine Goodale. Dora Read Goodale. Elaine Goodale. Elaine Goodale. Dora Read Goodale. Elaine Goodale. Elaine Goodale. Dora Read Goodale. Dora Read Goodale. Elaine Goodale. Elaine Goodale. Dora Read Goodale. Elaine Goodale. ) Dora Read Goodale. Dora Read Goodale. Elaine Goodale. Elaine Goodale. Dora Read Goodale. Dora Read Goodale. Dora Read Goodale. Elaine Goodale. Dora Read Goodale. CONTENTS. Indian Pipe {Monotropa uni flora.) Thistle {Cirsium lanceolatum.) Spirea {Spirea totnentosa.) Goldenrod {Solidago altissima.) Asters {Aster .) Cardinal Flower . . .{Lobelia cardinalis.) Fringed Gentian. . . .{Gentiana ctinita.) Closing Poem Elaine Goodale. Elaine Goodale. Dora Read Goodale. Elaine Goodale. Dora Read Goodale. Dora Read Goodale. Elaine Goodale. Elaine Goodale. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. I'.M .K Title-Page 5 Trailing Arbutus • 15 Hepatica 1 9 Anemone 2I Bloodroot 23 Blue Violets 27 Trillium • 35 Wild Oat 37 Columbine 39 Wild Azalea 43 Daisies 49 Sweet-Brier 5 l Harebell 53 Mountain Laurel 57 White Clover 59 Red Clover 62 Meadow Lilies 6 5 Wild Clematis • • 6 9 Indian Pipe 73 Thistle 75 Spirea 79 Goldenrod 8l Asters 8 3 Fringed Gentian 8 7 ERRATUM. The illustration on page 37, through a misunderstanding on the part of the artist, represents the avena sativa instead of the uvularia sessilifolia of the poem. The design is, however, so graceful and attractive in itself, that it has been decided not to cancel it. 9 O strange sweet season of up-heaving birth, O oft-returning miracle of grace, To whose eternal forces still we trace Life's yearly ebb and flow, the newest joy of earth ! No weight of ages on her swelling breast Can dull the keen delight of opening Spring ; Fresh from a living hope the blue-birds sing, The wild March winds wake still a chord of deep unrest. The pulse of being mounting high and higher, Life throbs anew at every bosom's core, — We give ourselves to Nature's arms once more, And yield to her control our unfulfilled desire ! Lo ! wind and rain are striving in her voice, She bares her bosom to the ardent sun, And we must feel her victories lost and won Ere in her riper gains our eager hearts rejoice. No idler fancy holds her serious eyes, No lighter feeling drains the happy hours, And he who stoops to reach her lowliest flowers, Thro' reverent love alone may grasp their mysteries. With steadfast mind we pass her threshold o'er, — She takes our trust, she gives us greeting warm, Withholds the rudeness of her sudden storm, And casts her blossoming vines about the open door. To us the birds their rarest meanings bring, The tireless winds our burdened brows caress, And, strangely stirred to thrilling tenderness, We breathe in every flower the incense of the Spring. Such would we follow thro' the varying year, And feel with such its lightest phase of change, — To Nature's deep emotions, deep and strange, The impulse of a smile, the passion of a tear ! Lingering with few among the countless throng, Yet loyal to the ones that seem forgot, We fain would learn the secret of their lot, And voice its hidden charm in kindred grace of song! In these, perchance, no ready sequence lies, Linked only by the season's rise and fall ; Yet thro', and over, and around them all There flows the current strong of Time's great min- istries. So would we keep among these scattered flowers A thread of graver purpose interwound, A hint of something only to be found Where from God's holiest heights unroll the golden hours ! TRAILING ARBUTUS. Since the winds of March gave outlet to the tidings they should bear, Since the breath of inspiration swept upon the listen- ing air, Weeks have brought but varying chances, Soft restraints and shy advances, Warm desire, impetuous longing, met with tenderest delay ; Ours the restless hope and yearning, Theirs the slow but sure returning, — Song and sunshine, bloom and brightness, growing nearer day by day. We have known the wrath of Winter, in his moun- tain fastness strong, Driving storms have raged against us, baffled and besieged us long;_ 14 For y| Locked in snows, without repining ll! We have watched their crystal shining, Dazzled back with steadfast vision that still radiance, cold and clear ; Now we gaze with lips a-tremble, Now we soften and dissemble, those same compelling forces move us with the moving year TRAILING ARBUTUS. Thus by random fancies fettered, with what rapture may we greet One who shared our long probation, where the Spring and Winter meet ; Wind and snow about her flying, Safe her clustered buds were lying, Folded close in russet woodlands, sheltered from the chilly air, — Sweet her slumbers, all unbroken By a trifler's careless token, Till the magic kiss of April laid her virgin passion bare ! Then our darling, hid in silence where no careless footstep trod, Felt the earliest beams of sunlight quicken in the yielding sod ; Half confessed her heart's undoing At the south-wind's whispered wooing, Heard the blue-bird's liquid warble dropping all the woodlands thro' ; r6 TRA ILING A RBUTL ".V. While, thro' long and quiet hours, Fell the warm unceasing- showers From a sky of tender saffron slow dissolving in the blue. Needless doubt and pain of April, hope that baffles and eludes, Thro' the waiting weeks she followed, patient with his changing moods ; Now the long suspense is over, Now she turns to greet her lover, With the soft auroral color mantling over cheek and brow ; And her dewy lips he presses, And she thrills with light caresses, — Shy and cold while yet unbidden, wifely chaste and tender now ! Hail the flower whose early bridal makes the festival of Spring ! Deeper far than outward meaning lies the comfort she doth bring ; TRAILING ARBUTUS. From the heights of happy winning, Gaze we back on hope's beginning, Feel the vital strength and beauty hidden from our eyes before ; And we know, with hearts grown stronger, Tho' our waiting seemeth longer, Yet, with Love's divine assurance, we should covet nothing more. 18 HEP A TIC A. All the woodland path is broken By warm 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 ! O the earth's unconscious bosom Such rare color never knew ! All unknown to shy delay, All unheeded by the May, Starts to life the varying blossom, Fed by sun and dew, — Faint hepatica ! HEP A TIC A. Come ! for long has been our waiting, Wayward impulse of the Spring, — Longings by the March wind stirred Have been lost through hope deferred You, from utter darkness breaking, Newer light may bring, Fair hepatica! Clear the brook beside you singing — Do you hear it and obey ? Does it bid you now lift up The blue light within your cup, All your earth-born perfume bringing To the open day, — Sweet hepatica ? qQ#P* A windflower by the mountain stream Where April's wayward breezes blow, And still in sheltered hollows gleam The lingering drifts of snow: ANEMONE. Whence art thou, frailest flower of Spring ? Did winds of heaven give thee birth ? Too free, too airy-light a thing For any child of earth ! O palest of pale blossoms borne On timid April's virgin breast, Hast thou no flush of passion worn, No mortal bond confessed ? Thou mystic spirit of the wood, Why that ethereal grace that seems A vision of our actual good Linked with the land of dreams ? Thou didst not start from common ground,- So tremulous on thy slender stem ; Thy sisters may not clasp thee round Who art not one with them. Thy subtle charm is strangely given, My fancy will not let thee be, — Then poise not thus 'twixt earth and heaven, O white anemone ! 3TV;, ' BLOODROOT. Not pressing close on crowded ways, Not shrinking back from any eye, 1 But calm beneath the open sky, And slow to meet our ruder w gaze : Scarce answering to the sudden thrill Of doubt and mystery wafted hence, Yet helping to a deeper sense Of vital force unmeasured still : 23 BLOODROOT. In April's hour of virgin fame The bloodroot gives her blossom birth, And trusts within the kindly earth The hidden sources of her shame. Along the teeming meadow-side, Hard by the river-banks are seen Her close-veined sheaths of tender green, With generous frankness opening wide. When lo ! the secret of an hour By throbbing April warmth unsealed, In sudden splendor stands revealed The glowing whiteness of the flower : A pure large flower of simple mold, And touched with soft peculiar bloom, Its petals faint with strange perfume, And in their midst a disk of gold ! O bloodroot! in thy tingling veins The sap of life runs cold and clear ; I break thy shining stem, and fear No conscious guilt, no lasting stains. 24 BLOODROOT. I brand with shame thy peerless brow, Whose golden coronet is riven, And cast to all the winds of heaven Thy drifts of many-petaled snow ! Yet, ere the reckless deed appears, Thy truth compels my heart's disguise, Thy beauty pains my mortal eyes, Thy pulse-beats hammer in my ears. I seem myself the panting earth, The Spring within me newly born ; I feel thee from my breast uptorn, — I grapple with a larger birth. My narrow senses downward hurled, In upper air I blindly grope — I strive to reach a living hope, And blossom in the spirit world ! Go, struggles deep, and visions wild, From heart and brain I set you free ; Thro' human need I still must see And grasp the human undefiled. 25 BLOODROOT. Go, wondrous flower — thy soul is mine — My gazing cannot do thee wrong ; To me the conscious pangs belong ! To me, at last, the right divine ! 26 BLUE VIOLETS. The violet blooms with every Spring, With every Spring the breezes blow, And once again the robins sing A song more sweet than June can know. So with the violet comes desire For something else than common gain,— The glow of more than earthly fire, The sting of more than actual pain. A thousand slackened memories start, Encompassed by a violet's breath, — The vital wish of every heart, The Life that triumphs over Death. 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 ! 27 BLUE VIOLETS. So comes and goes an April day, And so the violet comes and goes, — A few pale blossoms grace the May, A last faint breath the May-wind blows. But now the air is full and free With quickening pulses of the Spring, And longing for the life to be The phcebes of a sudden sing. And on a green and shaded slope The air is stirred with sweet perfumes, Where, in the heat and light of hope, Again the rare blue violet blooms ! 28 WHITE VIOLETS. Rain above the thirsting sod, Rain within the budding wood, Dropping earthward, dropping ever soft and slow ; Rain its solemn chant repeating On the hushed and darkened air, Rain with even pulses beating Thro' the fitful fever there ; We, who live and long for much, Still divine its magic touch, Drink its silver cadence still, Open to its inmost thrill, — Gone from us the restless pain, Ours the blessing of the rain, Ours the silent grace that hallows all below ! Flowers amid the dripping moss, Tearful flowers that sweeten loss, 30 WHITE VIOLETS. Pressing closer on the myriads in their train : White as milk, and perfume-laden, Purple-veined and golden-eyed, — Still with sweeter solace waiting Where the swollen streams divide ; We, released from strifes and cares, Press our burning lips to theirs, Share their mood of still delight, Drink their unimpassioned light; Gone from us the fever-heats, Ours the breath of violets, — These we follow in the footsteps of the rain ! ME ABO IV RUE. Below the slopes of tender green, Starred thick with pale forget-me-nots, Below the hedge-row's milk-white bloom, Where bees hum deep in faint perfume, The brook winds in and out between Its grassy knolls and alder-knots ; There dewy stillness cools the aching brow, There restful shade shuts out the random day; Sweet refuge from the virginal overflow, The blossomed grace of May ! 'Tis there a modest floweret grows, Whose lightest touch renews the place ; With drooping leaves, but half unrolled, And tasselled fringe of tawny gold, O'er all the shady bank she throws A wilder charm, a fresher grace; 32 MEADOW RUE. Adown the steep in careless freedom flung, Caught up with wandering fringes, loose and cool, And left the dripping, deep-green moss among, Beside some quiet pool. Now circled by the dizzying tide, And wet with drift of blinding spray; Now on the sloping turf reclined, And stirred by breezes soft and kind ; Now half-way up the jagged side Of cliffs that break the narrow way ; — Hers is a native lightness, fine and free, A grave and quiet beauty, fitting best, A sylvan charm of frank simplicity, And most, a sense of rest. When emerald slopes are drowned in song, When weary grows the unclouded blue, When warm winds sink in billowy bloom, And flood you with a faint perfume, One moment leave the rapturous throng To seek the haunts of meadow rue ! 33 MEADOW HUE. There dewy stillness cools the aching brow, There grateful shade shuts out the oppressive day- Sweet refuge from the sensuous overflow, The wanton grace of May ! TRILLIUM. Where the landlocked wind-storm rages, Rushing thro' the wild ravine, Where the gathered dust of ages Is renewed in tenderest green ; Where the passionate pulse of power Beats along its strong career, You may find a three-cleft flower' In the spring-time of the year ! TRILLIUM. Winter winds thro' mountain passes Break athwart the frosty night ; Spring among the seething grasses Stirs a newer pulse of light ; Sweet and strange the April weather, Generous she of heart and hand, Sun and storm she brings together, Strong to conquer and command. Now about the rugged places And along the ruined way, Light and free in sudden graces Comes the careless tread of May, Born of tempest, wrought in power, Stirred by sudden hope and fear, You may find a mystic flower In the spring-time of the year ! 36 Winds are growing sweeter Day by day ; Spring is here, the fields have seen her, And are growing greener, greener, And the woods have found so much In the magic of her touch, That the golden mist of April Deepens with the May ! Now we feel the new enchantment Of the May; April days were less than living, Ours the asking, hers the divine- — In the golden May-tide weather We can ask and give together, Now no more we wait and listen Day by day. * See erratum, page 9. 37 WILD OAT. To the green and sunlit forest, Late so gray, Come the careless robins daily, There to call and carol gayly, And the chime of blossom-bells Fuller harmony foretells, In the borders of the forest Ringing in the May ! Waits the flower amid her shadows AH the day, And the slender birch-tree glistens Where she droops her head and listens, And her footprints I discover Where the sweet-fern closes over, Round the edges of the woodlands, Tender with the May ! O the lights of earth and heaven, Growing day by day ; O the winds anions the grasses, — Showers, along the mountain passes ; O the shy, straw-colored bell In the shadow of the dell, Heir to all the early freedom Of the May ! COL UMBINE. Sprung in a cleft of the wayside steep, And saucily nodding, flushing deep, With her airy tropic bells aglow,— Bold and careless, yet wondrous light, And swung into poise on the stony height, Like a challenge flung to the world below ! COL UMBINE. Skirting the rocks at the forest edge With a running flame from ledge to ledge, Or swaying deeper in shadowy glooms, A smoldering fire in her dusky blooms ; Bronzed and molded by wind and sun, Maddening, gladdening every one With a gypsy beauty full and fine,— A health to the crimson columbine ! 40 BLUE-EYED GRASS. In the blind meadow, overflowing With sweet, new life in every place, Where ferns and lightest grasses growing Mingle in one harmonious grace; O deeper than all conscious being Still throbs the quickened pulse of Air, For something lies beyond the seeing, Divinely fair ! Low down among the daisies lying, Near to the great warm heart of Earth, My secret clue eludes the trying, Merged in a new and larger birth; I lose myself in holy union, I cannot stand and gaze apart, In that unbroken, close communion Heart learns of heart. 41 BLUE-EYED GRASS. What impulse stirs the feathery grasses, And dips along their wavering line ? While, as the sudden tremor passes, Two strange, sweet eyes look up to mine ! Eyes with a more than human pleading, So poet-deep, so maiden-shy ; Till all my soul is drowned in gazing, — O rare blue eye ! My spirit-flower, my heaven-sent blossom, I held your secret in my hand, I caught and clasped you to my bosom, I thought to see and understand : O fatal haste ! thou has undone me, Yet, yet unsolved the mystery lies ; They closed, and shut the wonder from me, Those deep, dark eyes ! WILD AZALEA. O newest longing, O most dear desire, Unsatisfied, unknown! All the broken woodland path Little light or color hath, Save the glory breaking in Thro' the depth of tender green, — We are here alone ! 43 WILD AZALEA. Whence is the sacred music of the wood, The clear, the. tireless tone? Thro' misty ways we blindly grope To catch the earliest signs of hope, Sun or shade or restless wind, Whatso pleasures we may find, — We are here alone. A sudden presence stirs the solemn wood, A secret not its own, A youthful light, an open grace, An equal strength in every place, And, far up the steep ascent, Warmth and quick desire are lent Where we wait alone ! O far away in yonder leafy copse The wandering thrush has flown, And close along the wooded steep We know an influence passing deep, The Summer light, the Summer tone, The rare azalea makes her own, — And we are not alone ! 44 MOCCASIN FLO WER. Stately and calm the forest rears its crown Above the eternal height, — Wide sweeps of early color, shimmering down, Renew its gracious might! Along the farthest ridge tall chestnuts grow, Mixed dark with rugged pines, And follow all the gentler slopes below In grand, harmonious lines. Their slender limbs toss upward to the sky A billowy spray of green, — The massy oak-tree's richer canopy Weaves ample shade between. Alike thro' coppice warm and rocky dell The rare azaleas press, — Long vistas touched with rosy bloom reveal Their truant loveliness ; Young growths with tender leafage springing light, Crowd up on every side, 45 MO CCA SIX FLOWER. And paths whose flow is rhythmic with delight Their magic open wide ! Yet shy and proud among the forest flowers, In maiden solitude, Is one whose charm is never wholly ours, Xor yielded to our mood : One true-born blossom, native to our skies, \Ye dare not claim as kin, Nor frankly seek, for all that in it lies, The Indian's moccasin. Graceful and tall the slender drooping stem, With two broad leaves below, Shapely the flower so lightly poised between, And warm her rosy glow ; Yet loneliest rock-strewn haunts are all her bent, She heeds no soft appeal, And they alone who dare a rude ascent Her equal charm may feel. We long with her to leave the beaten road, The paths that cramp our feet, And follow upward thro' the tangled wood, By highways cool and sweet; From dewy glade to bold and rugged steep Pass fleet as winds and showers, — 4 g MOCCASIN FLOWER. For lightly ever falls the tireless foot That's only shod with flowers ! No lagging step outruns the happy days, — Our tread is soft as rain; With careless joy we thread the woodland ways And reach her broad domain. Thro' sense of strength and beauty, free as air, We feel our savage kin, — And thus alone with conscious meaning: wear o The Indian's moccasin ! 47 DAISIES. The hills are faint in a cloudy blue, That loses itself where the sky bends over, The wind is shaking the orchard thro', And sending a quiver thro' knee-deep clover. The air is sweet with a strange perfume, That comes from the depths of the woodland places, The fields are hid in a wealth of bloom, And white with the sweep of the ox-eye daisies ! And farther down, where the brook runs thro', Where the ferns are cool in the prisoned shadow, We still may see, thro' the morning dew, The swell and dip of the daisied meadow. 4 8 And then when the wind across it blows, And the wavering lines of silver follow, We catch the gleam of her heart of gold, While over her skims the fleet-wineed swallow. Clear and simple in white and gold, Meadow blossom of sunlit spaces, — The field is full as it well can hold And white with the drift of the ox-eye daisies ! f SWEET-BRIER I CHANCED Z//tf;Z # r#.s-//^r . ^4 /#& #;£