THE PAGEANT OF SUMMER 



the pollen is pushed out from grass and 

 flower, and yet again these acres and acres 

 of leaves and square miles of grass blades 

 for they would cover acres and square 

 miles if reckoned edge to edge are draw- 

 ing their strength from the atmosphere. 

 Exceedingly minute as these vibrations 

 must be, their numbers perhaps may give 

 them a volume almost reaching in the 

 aggregate to the power of the ear. Be- 

 sides the quivering leaf, the swinging 

 grass, the fluttering bird's wing, and the 

 thousand oval membranes which innumer- 

 able insects whirl about, a faint resonance 

 seems to come from the very earth itself. 

 The fervour of the sunbeams descending 

 in a tidal flood rings on the strung harp 

 of earth. It is this exquisite undertone, 

 heard and yet unheard, which brings the 

 mind into sweet accordance with the 

 wonderful instrument of nature. 



By the apple-tree there is a low bank, 

 where the grass is less tall and admits the 

 heat direct to the ground; here there are 



