1 78 THE FALLING LEAF. [CHAP. 



rose, the fronds of the ferns now unrolling 1 , and vivid 

 green new-born leaves expanding in myriads on every 

 branch. And later in the year, when these green 

 leaves are in their turn changed in hue, the value of 

 these crystals will again be shown in the rosy apples 

 and purple clusters of juicy grapes, and garners piled 

 to the roof with golden grain. 



Now that the leaves have fallen, let us take a 

 ramble through the wood or on the heath, and though 

 we shall enjoy our walk, our enjoyment is tinged 

 with a feeling of sadness. We miss the beautiful 

 foliage ! There are the beautiful smooth-stemmed, 

 giant beeches, fantastically gnarled and contorted, 

 but their rich red autumn-tinted leaves are forming 

 a thick crisp carpet below. The drooping branches 

 of the silver-barked birch are naked. The clumps of 

 furze are still enlivened by a few golden blooms, and 

 the bracken is still glorious in its autumn tints. But 

 there is a feeling of melancholy in the air. The 

 beauty of the year has departed, and we think of 

 approaching winter, with this heath and its bracken 

 and furze and heather all covered by snow, and all its 

 life stilled for a season. 



" Here still the daisy rears her head, 



And buttercups still sparsely linger ; 

 High in the heavens, with wings full spread, 



Above us floats a glorious singer 

 Whose song, though full of rapturous strains, 



Seems to have caught a tone of sadness, 

 As though he to the wind complains 



For cutting short his summer gladness." 



Yes ! even the songs of the birds seem changed, 



