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filmed as if the rock spirits could spin porphyry as we 

 do glass ; the traceries of intricate silver and fringes of 

 amber, lustrous arborescent, burnished through every 

 fibre into fitful brightness, and glossy traverses of silken 

 change, yet all subdued and pensive, and framed for 

 simplest, sweetest offices of grace. They will not be 

 gathered like the flowers, for chaplet or love-token ; but 

 of these the wild-bird will make its nest, and the wearied 

 child its pillow. And as the earth's first mercy, so they 

 are its last gift to us. When all other service is vain 

 from plant and tree, the soft mosses and grey lichens 

 take up their watch by the headstone. The woods, the 

 blossoms, the gift-bearing grasses have done their parts 

 for a time ; but these do service for ever. Trees for the 

 builder's yard, flowers for the bride's chamber, corn for 

 the granary, moss for the grave." 



