AND WILD FLOWERS 79 



joy aloud. Here was a manifestation of my 

 hopes for mankind, the thoughts ever with 

 me; at night when only the stars are in the 

 sky, or when the moon is old and like a 

 scarred shield nailed under the rafters of 

 heaven ; at dawn, when the light flows 

 over the eastern bar of the world till it 

 drains into the western sunset. One thought 

 by night and one thought by day my hope 

 is for the happiness of mankind. Could 

 words of mine but tell you of the dream 

 that lurks by the brook in summer, or with 

 the clouds floating with snowy sails in 

 cerulean waters! There the Immortals are 

 waiting. See the joy and happiness that 

 is with every swallow flying low over a 

 lake, his liquid image gliding under him. 

 What is all the philosophy in the world to 

 the joy of the beautiful swallow ? Civilisa- 

 tions have risen and crumbled, faded into 

 nothingness, like footprints in the desert 

 obliterated by sand. The sweet little 

 whispering call of my longtailed titmice 



