SUMMER DA YS. 83 



the most insignificant insect. Such is Nature's system 

 of change, mournful perhaps to each individual creature, 

 yet beautiful in its simplicity, and most efficacious in 

 preserving all things from eternal decay. But the wild 

 flowers will seed, the trees send forth new buds, and the 

 grass sprout up anew; the Sky Lark has its young ones in 

 the fields below, and the Swallows, and the Willow Wrens, 

 and other birds are each busy continuing their species. 

 New generations of men grow up as old ones pass away ; 

 there are always wild flowers, foliage, birds and insects, 

 and in one form or another Life will remain unchanged 

 until Earth's allotted course is run and time shall be no 

 more. The voice of Nature speaks her grand philosophy 

 through all living things the bees drone it in the lime- 

 trees yonder, the leaves and flowers breathe it in their 

 sweet perfume, the butterflies tell it as they dance above 

 the clover-heads and hare-bells, the birds echo it in their 

 song. We listen admiringly to a bird warbling on the 

 hedgerow to-day ; we shall be just as charmed with a 

 similar strain in years yet to come, when this particular 

 singer will be dead and gone, though its voice continues 

 through generations of birds yet unborn. We watch the 

 big yellow banded bees creep in and out of the foxglove 

 flowers ; we may see the same thing next year ; but the 

 bees will be changed, those there now will probably die 

 during the coming winter ; the flowers that look so 

 handsome and smell so sweetly now are about to fade ; 



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