ji^LY. 337 



STUDIES IN THE FIELD AND FOREST. 



BY WILSON FLAGG. 



JULY. 



The sultry sun has seared the green hill-side 

 And browned the upland herbage, far and wide ; 

 The tender flowers have wilted in the drought : 

 O'er hill and plain a mighty change is wrought. 

 The little winding rivulets that made 

 A pleasant rippling, whersoe'er we strayed. 

 Are lost, and many a green and devious chain 

 Of shrubbery marks their course along the plain. 

 But in the lowlands glitters summer's pride ; 

 To them no floral bounties are denied. 

 Bright fruits and blossoms greet us as we pass, 

 Nodding their heads above the waving grass ; 

 Beneath the shade perhaps a flower of spring 

 Peeps out — a wee, neglected, fading thing — 

 That hardly dares to turn its timid glance 

 ■ , Amid the season's proud luxuriance. 



Nature has sunken in a peaceful doze, 

 And the mild summer wind so gently blows, 

 It hardly stirs the leaves of aspen trees, 

 Or drowns the faintest insect melodies. 



No. V. Early Morning in Summer. 



Nature, for the delight of waking eyes, has arrayed the- 

 morning heavens in the loveliest hues of beauty. Fearing to 

 dazzle by an excess of Hght, she first announces day by a 

 faint and glimmering twilight, then sheds a purple tint over 

 the brows of the rising morn, and infuses a transparent ruddi- 

 ness throughout the whole atmosphere. As daylight widens, 

 successive groups of mottled and rosy-bosomed clouds assem- 

 ble on the gilded sphere, and, crowned with wreaths of fickle 

 rainbows, spread a mirrored flush over hill, grove and lake, 

 and every village spire is burnished with their splendor. At 

 length through crimsoned vapors we behold the sun's broad 

 disc, rising with a countenance so serene, that every eye may 

 view him, ere he arrays himself in his meridian brightness. 

 Not many people who live in towns are aware of the pleas- 

 ure attending a ramble near the woods and. orchards at day 



VOL. XXI. NO. VII. 43 



