90 BOULDER REVERIES. 



sun's rays fall upon them! Long may they 

 withstand the blasts of Boreas and the on-rush- 

 ing breath of the south wind ! 



XXI. 



June 21, '03. Once more, after an absence 

 of nearly ten months, I sit at the boulders' base, 

 and wait for the inspiration of my cerebral 

 cells. The day is sultry, the sky o'ercast with 

 haze and dull threatening clouds; yet, at 



intervals, 



Over all 



The rays of the morning sun 

 In glory fall. 



Here I shall sit for two or three hours and 

 wait for what I may see or hear of nature. 

 Some of her objects will soon sound their notes 

 of warning or of love. Others will doubtless 

 flit by clad in motley pleasing garb. 



Already the hum of mosquito has sounded in 

 my ear and the caw of crow, from the top of the 

 white oak above my head, has echoed loud and 

 clear across the valley. Already the red-heads 

 have on every side, welcomed me with their 

 queer quar-quar. Already the wood nymph 



