THE BLUE BELLS 31 



One can drink in the exceeding loveliness of such 

 surroundings better when he is lying down. The 

 shadows over the current, and up the far bank fall 

 so pleasantly across the spirit. Only in so far as 

 there are spirit shadows can we see their beauty. 

 No tracery in Nature is more delicate than that 

 above, except that shadow tracery of twigs and 

 bursting buds below. One can scarce help being 

 beautiful in soul while he lies here. He is only 

 reflecting. 



The chaffinch, without whose spring note the 

 budding woods would scarcely seem themselves, is 

 now in full song. If the lay is not sweet, it is 

 woodland, which is far better, and shows how 

 much music owes to the scene in which we delight 

 to hear it. No other song would please so much. 



The scent as well as the complexion of the den 

 has changed. It is no longer the spiritual essence 

 so faintly sweet when diffused through the outer 

 air of primrose. At least not altogether ; though 

 there, it is hard to detect. Something heavier 

 too heavy in the concentrated sweetness into which 

 it is gathered in the close defile between the banks 

 overpowers the rest. 



The primroses are still abroad among the wood 

 grasses, or beside the mossy stump, or under the 



