FROM A NEW ENGLAND HILLSIDE. 5! 



have seen the world. Henceforth I may 

 rest at Underledge, looking out upon the 

 valley. I know that the river runs fast 

 between its banks, though the elms and 

 maples quietly stand guard by its side and 

 conceal it from iny view ; the snow lies 

 white over the fields, and beyond, the hills 

 climb skyward to meet the brave cloud 

 fleets sailing the ocean blue. Softly the* 

 retreating lines sink into each other in the 

 gray distance ; no musical note reaches my 

 ear. I only catch the distant bark of a dog 

 or the crowing of a cock ; but I close my 

 eyes, and lo ! the angel fish sparkle in the 

 pools at Westover ; the roses bloom again 

 by my side, and the air is rich with their 

 perfume ; the waters, emerald and gold and 

 turquoise, lap the sands at my feet, and I 

 hear Ariel singing : 



Where the bee sucks, there suck I ; 



In a cowslip s bell I lie ; 



There I couch when owls do cry. 



On the bat s back I do fly 



After summer, merrily: 



Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, 



Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. 



FEBRUARY 18, 1894. 



