152 BOULDER REVERIES. 



To the true naturalist nothing in nature is 

 lowly, nothing is isolated. An inter-relation- 

 ship, an inter-dependence is everywhere visible. 

 However small, however stunted and ill shaped, 

 nothing natural seems out of place. If it so 

 seems it is not natural, not where it ought to be, 

 and the question instantly arises, how came it to 

 be thus? Some force, some activity, not of 

 nature, brought it here. 



Time is fleeting ; it alone is a losing venture. 

 My summer will soon be a memory, a memory 

 of what? Of little accomplished; of great 

 things thought of; of few deeds done. Soul 

 songs unsung! We all compose them at times, 

 some much more freely than others, but how 

 few ever sing or play them so that other ears 

 may hear! The elements are not atune. Too 

 much discord; too much of a mingling of art 

 with nature. It is only when the strings of art 

 are snapped and those of nature at a high ten- 

 sion that a soul song can be played on this my 



harp of life. 



XXXV. 



Aug. 6j '05. Once more unto the breach, O 

 man; unto the breach thou lovest to assault 



