82 NATURE NEAR LONDON 



causes it. Faint as it is, it sways the heavy laden brome 

 grass, but is not strong enough to lift a ball of thistle- 

 down from the bennets among which it is entangled. 



How swiftly the much-desired summer comes upon us ! 

 Even with the reapers at work before one it is difficult to 

 realise that it has not only come, but will soon be passing 

 away. Sweet summer is but just long enough for the 

 happy loves of the larks. It seems but yesterday, it is 

 really more than five months since, that, leaning against 

 the gate there, I watched a lark and his affianced on the 

 ground among the grey stubble of last year still standing. 



His crest was high and his form upright, he ran a little 

 way and then sang, went on again and sang again to his 

 love, moving parallel with him. Then passing from the 

 old dead stubble to fresh-turned furrows, still they went 

 side by side, now down in the valley between the clods, 

 now mounting the ridges, but always together, always 

 with song and joy, till I lost them across the brown 

 earth. But even then from time to time came the sweet 

 voice, full of hope in coming summer. 



The day declined, and from the clear, cold sky of 

 March the moon looked down, gleaming on the smooth 

 planed furrow which the plough had passed. Scarce had 

 she faded in the dawn ere the lark sang again, high in the 

 morning sky. The evenings became dark ; still he rose 

 above the shadows and the dusky earth, and his song 

 fell from the bosom of the night. With full untiring 

 choir the joyous host heralded the birth of the corn; 

 the slender forceless seed-leaves which came gently up 

 till they had risen above the proud crests of the lovers. 



Time advanced and the bare mounds about the field, 

 carefully cleaned by the husbandman, were covered 

 again with wild herbs and plants, like a fringe to a 

 garment of pure green. Parsley and "gix," and clogweed, 



