4 Idylls of the Field. 



followed instantly by the other, and round and round 

 they go, now in line, now side by side, as full of fun 

 and as intent upon their game as if there were no 

 hounds in the county, and a view halloa was a thing 

 forgotten. But alas ! they stop short ; they hold their 

 heads high and look round with eager suspicion. 

 What is it ? Did some rabbit watching the perform- 

 ance from his burrow involuntarily give a stamp of 

 applause ? Alas ! no, it is the figure among the sand- 

 hills. They are gone, and the beach once more is 

 empty and deserted. 



Suddenly, as swift as thought, along the jagged edge 

 of yonder purple cloud there flashes out a thin line of 

 gold. Over it hovers a soft ethereal fan of light like 

 the herald angel of the dawn. Broader grows the 

 fringe of gold, swiftly running left and right along the 

 cloudy heights, and reddening as it goes. Tiny cloud- 

 lets, unseen before, are touched with glowing fire, and 

 float like attendant spirits clad in burnished gold. It 

 is the gold of Paradise. No ore of earthly mine ever 

 shone with lustre a hundredth part so fair. 



Now the broadening glow has kindled into flame, 

 glorious, dazzling, unsupportable. Now look again. 

 Round and fair the sun has risen on the wakening 

 world. And lo ! the cold earth, as by the wand of a 

 magician, is transfigured by its light. All the colour 

 has gone out of the cloudbank that, but a few 

 moments since, stood out against the glowing east a 

 rampart as solid as the Alps. It is there still, but 



