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WOODLAND GLADES. 



There is a Power, a Presence in the wood, 

 A viewless Being, that with life and love 



Informs the reverential solitude ; 



The rich air knows it, and the mossy sod. 



Thou, Thou art there, my God 1 

 The silence and the sound 



In the lone places breathe alike of Thee," 



the autumn breath stirs the woodlands, 

 the clustering acorns begin to fall, and the 

 angular beechmast studs the ground. The juicy rasp- 

 berry has departed, but the big blackberries pout 

 from the trailing branches. The elder bushes are laden 

 with their dark fruit, relieved by the red stalks and 

 fading leaves. Berries are abundant on the bushes. 

 Nuts are ripening, and the hips and haws show that 

 God's orchard is plentifully supplied. The leaves are 

 beginning to change, and the flowers of the woodland 

 are nearly over. 



The "Wood Sage (Teucrium scorodonia) is yet in 

 bloom, if we do not overlook its spike of greenish 

 flowers, through which the purplish -brown anthers are 



