FOOTSTEPS OF THE SEASONS. 197 



But each day, so glorious in its golden floods, and soft air, and 

 shining leaves and flowers, must die in its turn, and glide like the 

 shadows of the good and true, far away into yon down-stretching 

 vestibules, where the eternal labyrinths are lustrous with the shining 

 lamps of God. The heaven is free from clouds, but is melting into 

 "one vast iris of the west;" and there the day goes down, to join 

 the past eternity of days that have gone before, and taken all their 

 glory with them. There is already one star twinkling upon the blue- 

 veined forehead of the sky, while yet yon molten sea heaves and 

 pulses, as if the day, in its last expiring agonies, was contending with 

 the night for victory. But the fire tones down into the " odorous 

 purple of a blushing rose," while from the sunset horizon to the 

 eastern star one soft azure twilight reigns. The day has died — even 

 as the dolphin, with each gasp becoming imbued with a new colour : 

 and now all is darkness. 



"Look, the world's comforter, with weary gait, 



His hot day's task has ended in the west : 



The owl, night's herald, shrieks — 'tis very late; 



The sheep are gone to fold, hirds to their nest; 



And coal black clouds, that shadow heaven's light, 



Do summon us to part, and bid good night." 



Shaksfbre. 



And the night, how lovely ! how calm and still ! the silence, how 

 sublime ! Not a voice of living thing, not a whisper of leaf, or bird, 

 or insect ! not a stirring of the wind — not a sound or motion to dis- 

 turb this hallowed quietude ! The dewy sky above bends over soft 

 and blue, like " the inverted bell of some gigantic flower," glittering 

 with unnumbered dewy crystal drops, and fragments of golden dust, 

 and breathing the fragrance of heaven. And the red moon rises 

 among the tall trees, and goes thoughtfully and silently on her 

 march, attended by her train of lights. In the vast shadow of the 

 night, the cool dews come from their rainbow world of waters, in 

 company with soft summer winds playing together in the frolic glee 

 of mirth and gaiety. Far away, the black trees rock lazily from side 

 to side upon the broad sea of grass, like giant hulks at anchor on 

 the deep. Grotesque shadows are everywhere lurking about like 

 gnomes and sprites of darkness, having evil purposes in view, which 

 they dare not utter, even to each other, lest the red and blue flowers 

 which grow around the knotted knees of the old oaks should over- 



