4 SYLVAN WliNTEL?. 



an idea of the dead season is conveyed in a manner 

 which suggests the simpler notion of desolation 

 in its abstract form. Barnard admirably conveys 

 the general idea in the lines : 



' The dead leaves strew the forest- walk, 



And wither'd are the pale wild flowers ; 

 The frost hangs blackening on the stalk, 



The dew-drops fall in frozen showers ; 

 Gone are the spring's green sprouting bowers, 



Gone, summer's rich and mantling vines ; 

 And autumn, with her yellow hours, 



On hill and plain no longer shines.' 



To those who view Nature from a distant 

 outlook, and regard her with cold and unsympa- 

 thetic eyes, Winter is doubtless presented under 

 an aspect like that of a desert, or of a barren 

 moorland held under the chill grip of all-per- 

 vading cold a region given up to lifelessness 

 and gloom. 



Thomson, in his ' Winter,' expresses the same 

 idea when he says : 



' Dread "Winter spreads his latest glooms, 

 And reigns tremendous o'er the conqucr'd year. 

 How dread the vegetable kingdom lies : 

 How dumb the tuneful : Horror wide extends 

 His desolate domain.' 



