115 



GEASSY NOOKS. 



T~TIIO in the sweet summer-time has not thanked 

 God for the green fields, and thought, with 

 Johnson Barker, 



" What a desert-like spot would this life of ours be, 

 If, amid sands of sin, no glimpse could we see 



Of some green-knotted garland of grass 

 Some oasis bright, a glad hope to impart, 

 That the sun of the sky, and the sun of the heart, 



Still abide in the road we must pass "? 



And ere we proceed to the wild moorland to the 

 mountain and the heather-clad uplands let us rest 

 awhile in a grassy nook and contemplate the humble 

 beauty of the simple grass. " The story of the grass," 

 says Shirley Hibberd, in his "Brambles and Bay- 

 leaves," " is the story of the world. Ere the creatures 

 of the flood and field existed, the earth brought forth 

 grass and herbs, so that when the earth should bring 

 forth the living creature after his kind, cattle and 

 creeping thing, they should find sustenance and enjoy- 

 ment ; and man, waking up from chaos at the will of 

 the Omnipotent, should find himself in a home of 

 greenness, with a soft carpet for his feet, a refreshing 



