178 THE FALLING LEAF. [CHAP. 
rose, the fronds of the ferns now unrolling, and vivid 
green new-born leaves expanding in myriads on every 
branch. And later in the year, when these green 
leaves are in their turn changed in hue, the value of 
these crystals will again be shown in the rosy apples 
and purple clusters of juicy grapes, and garners piled 
to the roof with golden grain. 
Now that the leaves have fallen, let us take a 
ramble through the wood or on the heath, and though 
we shall enjoy our walk, our enjoyment is tinged 
with a feeling of sadness. We miss the beautiful 
foliage! There are the beautiful smooth-stemmed, 
siant beeches, fantastically gnarled and contorted, 
but their rich red autumn-tinted leaves are forming 
a thick crisp carpet below. The drooping branches 
of the silver-barked birch are naked. The clumps of 
furze are still enlivened by a few golden blooms, and 
the bracken is still glorious in its autumn tints. But 
there is a feeling of melancholy in the air. The 
beauty of the year has departed, and we think of 
approaching winter, with this heath and its bracken 
and furze and heather all covered by snow, and all its 
life stilled for a season. 
*¢ Here still the daisy rears her head, 
And buttercups still sparsely linger ; 
High in the heavens, with wings full spread, 
Above us floats a glorious singer 
Whose song, though full of rapturous strains, 
Seems to have caught a tone of sadness, 
As though he to the wind complains 
For cutting short his summer gladness.” 
Yes! even the songs of the birds seem changed, 
