THE PAGEANT OF SUMMER 



Straight go the white petals to the 

 heart; straight the mind's glance goes 

 back to how many other pageants of 

 summer in old times! When perchance 

 the sunny days were even more sunny; 

 when the stilly oaks were full of mystery, 

 lurking like the Druid's mistletoe in the 

 midst of their mighty branches. A 

 glamour in the heart came back to it 

 again from every flower; as the sunshine 

 was reflected from them so the feeling 

 in the heart returned tenfold. To the 

 dreamy summer haze love gave a deep 

 enchantment, the colours were fairer, the 

 blue more lovely in the lucid sky. Each 

 leaf finer, and the gross earth enamelled 

 beneath the feet. A sweet breath on the 

 air, a soft warm hand in the touch of 

 the sunshine, a glance in the gleam of the 

 rippled waters, a whisper in the dance 

 of the shadows. The ethereal haze lifted 

 the heavy oaks and they were buoyant on 

 the mead, the rugged bark was chastened 

 and no longer rough, each slender flower 



