482 WILD FLOWERS OF 



eddying to the ground, this intermitting pit-pat alone 

 ominously interrupting the profound silence that in- 

 vests the forest glades. 



" For now the leaf 



Incessant rustles from the mountain grove ; 

 Oft startling such, as studious, -walk below, 

 And slowly circles waving through the air." * 



The leaf-strewn walk is a peculiar feature of autumnal 

 scenery, and though the effect of the fallen russet 

 frondage is exceedingly pleasing to the eye, and the 

 rustling sound of dropping foliage falls with lulling 

 cadence upon the ear, yet an unaccountable melan- 

 choly insensibly takes possession of the mind as it 

 contemplates the sensible image of withered hopes 

 and high-born expectations flattering, once, perhaps, 

 as the green buds of April, now blighted and pros- 

 trate as the humid leaves that rest in sepulchral state 

 beneath each skeleton tree. It may be, too, that grief 

 is awakened at the remembrance of some for ever 

 lost to us, who in these very shades exchanged their 

 thoughts with ours, and trod where we shall never 

 hear their voices again. 



" The landscape is lovely no more, 



I mourn but ye wood-lands I mourn not for you, 



For morn is returning your tints to restore, 



Endued with fresh fragrance, and glittering with dew. 



Nor yet for the ravage of Winter I mourn, 



Kind nature the embryo blossom will save ; 



But when shall Spring visit the mouldering urn, 



Or when shall day dawn on the night of the grave ?" * 



Sombre as this train of reflection may seem, it accords 

 with the phenomena of the dying year, for as in 

 Spring every feeling is legitimately buoyant with 



* THOMSON. t BEATTIE. 



