THE WOODS IN ERMINE. 



" It is one of God's beautiful thoughts ! " 

 Such was the exclamation that broke from my 

 lips as I stood at the border of my favorite 

 rambling-ground one winter day. The scene be- 

 fore me was more than lovely ; it was sublime. 

 The woods were clad in ermine, every branch and 

 twig and spray bearing a gleaming cjdinder of 

 snow. Had the sun shone, the spectacle would 

 have been resplendent with prismatic colors ; but 

 as it was, the dim forest light was soft and sub- 

 dued, as if some gentle spirit were brooding over 

 the woodland. It was a scene that would have in- 

 spired Lowell himself, who doubtless would have 

 described it in verse : 



" Every pine and fir and hemlock 

 Wore ermine too dear for an earl, 



And the poorest twig on the elm-tree 

 Was ridged inch deep with pearl." 



• 

 The thick network of branching bushes and sap- 



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