94 IValks in New England 



the hidden flowers from forest leaves, on pasture 

 hillsides, in green meadows, in dipping swales, in 

 tangled swamps, who has watched the birds come, 

 creating and enticing beauty as they bring their 

 warbles and songs to join earth and sky in equal 

 praise, who has noted each new butterfly, and 

 the coming of the dragon flies from the pools, 

 and the burly welcome of the bumble-bee, the 

 piping of the hyla and the chirp of frogs, who, 

 in fine, has followed the cautious steps of sum 

 mer in the escort of spring, without repeating, 

 over and over, day and day, &quot; Ah still delay ! 

 thou art so fair ! &quot; 



And yet what such a one suffers in the ravage 

 of the axe in the forest ! never more rude and 

 savage than now. The destruction wrought by 

 man is melancholy in a degree to the lover of 

 Nature, even where there is use to follow, but 

 how much more when the mere wantonness of 

 ignorance sweeps away beauty and glory, and 

 there is nothing to make amends. We have in 

 mind a glen on the south side of a mountain. A 

 year ago it was a scene of fairy witchery ; the 

 brook flowing through a bit of rich alluvium, be 

 sprent with adder-tongue lily, trillium, hepatica, 

 anemone, the little early buttercup, and the lovely 

 spot begirt all around with the spice-bush, then 

 in full sweet yellow bloom. It was a place of in- 



