JUNE. 181 



Anon, the scythe is heard ringing, a sound 

 happy in its immediate associations, but, in 

 fact, a note of preparation for winter, a knell 

 of the departing year. It reminds us, in the 

 midst of warmth and fertility, that we must 

 prepare for nakedness and frost ; and that strip- 

 ping away of the earth's glorious robe, which, 

 when it begins, will never cease till it leaves 

 us in the dreary, tempestuous region of win- 

 ter ; so 



That fair flower of beauty fades away, 



As doth the lily fresh before the sunny ray. 



Great enemy to it, and all the rest 



That in the garden of fair nature springs, 



Is wicked TIME, who, with his scythe addressed, 



Doth mow the flowering herbs and goodly things, 



And all their glory to the ground down flings, 



Where they do wither, and are foully marred ; 



He flies about, and with his flaggy wings 



Beats down both bud and leaf without regard, 



]\e ever pity may relent his malice hard. 



Faery Queene, b. iii. 



Let us not, however, anticipate too sensitive- 

 ly the progress of time : let us enjoy rather 

 the summer festivities which surround us. The 

 green fruits of the orchard are becoming con- 

 spicuous, and the young nuts in hedges and 



