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CHAPTER VIII. 



AUGUST. 



" What transport to retrace our boyish plays, 

 Our easy bliss, when each thing joy supplied, 

 The woods, the mountains, and the warbling maze 

 Of the wild brooks." 



" I care not, Fortune, what you me deny, 

 You cannot rob me of free Nature's grace ; 

 You cannot shut the windows of the sky, 

 Through which Aurora shows her brightening face ; 

 You cannot bar my constant feet to trace 

 The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve ; 

 Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, 

 And I their toys to the great children leave, 

 Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can be bereave." 



" All hail ! ye fields, where constant peace attends ! 

 All hail ! ye sacred, solitary groves ! 

 All hail ! ye books, my true — my real friends ! 

 Whose conversation pleases and improves." 



And truly the contemplation of nature is delightful— 

 soothing to the wounded spirit — elevating to the in- 

 quiring mind — peaceful to all ; drawing the mind from 

 the petty cares and frivolities of life, she opens out to 

 the humble student her world of wonders, showing him 

 beauty where he least expected it, use in the most 



