FROM A NEW ENGLAND HILLSIDE. 263 



deliberation upon the part of climbing 

 plants, as give us pause, and make us 

 occasionally feel that we must speak softly, 

 and perhaps be a little careful even of our 

 reflections in their presence. And have you 

 not heard how sometimes a great tree, 

 being athirst, will send its roots far around 

 a rock or a building to a well or spring, in 

 order to fetch it water ? 



So when I go up into a high mountain, 

 where great oaks and lordly pines and hem 

 locks wave, or rind my way down through 

 a secluded valley w r here a clear brook 

 tumbles over smooth worn stones, under 

 overhanging grasses and fronds of fern, 

 where the forget-me-not lifts its blue eyes, 

 and the proud cardinal flower sparkles, I 

 cannot quite think that my coming brought 

 thither the first throb of conscious life. 

 And when I see the lily sending its delicate 

 searching filaments deep down among the 

 noisome masses of decay and seemingly 

 useless waste, and drawing thence the ele 

 ments from which it elaborates a glory of 

 green leaf and spotless and fragrant blossom, 

 and then look upon &quot;a lord of creation&quot; 

 who should be &quot; how noble in reason ! how 

 infinite in faculty ! in form and movement 

 how express and admirable ! in action how 



