92 UNDER THE TREES. 



architects are planning the summer, and the sub 

 lime march of the stars is noiselessly bringing back 

 the bloom and the perfume that seem to have van 

 ished forever. Every morning restores something 

 we thought lost, recalls some charm that seemed to 

 have escaped. 



In all noble natures there is an ineradicable 

 idealism which constantly interprets life in its 

 higher aspects. In the dust of the road the mount 

 ains sometimes disappear from our vision, but we 

 know that they still loom in undiminished majesty 

 against the horizon ; the gods sometimes hide 

 themselves, but there is something within which 

 affirms that we shall again look on their serene 

 faces, calm amid our turbulence and unchanging 

 amid our vicissitudes. It is this heavenly inheri 

 tance of insight and faith which makes Nature so 

 divinely significant to us, and matches all its forms 

 and phenomena with spiritual realities not to be 

 taken from us by time or change or by that mys 

 terious angel of the last great transformation which 

 we call death. The morning is always breaking 

 over the low horizon lines of some sea or conti 

 nent ; voices of birds are always &quot; caroling against 

 the gates of day &quot; ; and so, through unbroken 

 light and song, our life is solemnly and sublimely 

 moved onward to the dawn in which all the faint 

 stars of our hope shall melt into the eternal day. 



