52 



SUMMER 



its spring cry or the after-shower song. It is as if 

 the voice of the slumberous woods were speaking, 



without alarm, reproach, 

 or welcome either. It is 

 an invitation to stretch 

 yourself on the deep moss 

 and let the warm shadows 

 of the summer 

 woods steal 

 over you 

 with sleep. 



And this, 

 too, is a thing 

 to learn. Do- 

 ing som e- 

 thing, hear- 

 ing something, seeing 

 something by no means 

 exhausts our whole 

 business with the out-of- 

 doors. To lie down and do 

 nothing, to be able to keep 

 silence and to rest on the 

 great whirling globe is as needful as to know every- 

 thing going on about us. 



THE RED-EYED VIREO 



