REFLECTIONS. 271 



the morning, covered all objects and nou- 

 rished all things that grew, and in which 

 they were more beautiful even than in sun- 

 shine, — what would I not give! — All that I 

 have gained in an active and not unprofit- 

 able life. How well I remember that de- 

 lightful season, when full of power I sought 

 for power in others ; and power was sympa- 

 thy, and sympathy power. When every 

 voice seemed one of praise and love; when 

 every flower had the bloom and odour of 

 the rose, and every spray or plant seemed 

 either the poet's laurel, or the civic oak — 

 which appeared to offer themselves to my 

 ready and willing hands. But, alas! this 

 cannot be; and even you cannot have two 

 springs in life — though I have no doubt you 

 have fishing days, in which the feelings of 

 youth return, and that your autumn has a 

 more vernal character than mine. 



Poiet. — I do not think Halieus had ever 

 any season except a perpetual and gentle 

 spring; for the tones of his mind have been 

 always so quiet, it has been so little scorched 

 by sunshine, and so little shaken by winds, 



