THOUGHTS FROM WRITINGS 



sorrowful to reflect how soon— but a 

 day or two— and already the dust has 

 gathered over the place we filled.— 'The 

 Dewy Morn.' 



MEADOW and brook, wheat- 

 fields and hills — a simple 

 landscape, yet such as is not 

 to be surpassed by any on earth. A 

 common landscape— there are hundreds 

 such in our England— yet beyond com- 

 pare. There are none like it elsewhere 

 in the wide world.— 'The Dewy Morn.' 



HOW powerful, and yet uncon- 

 trollable by ourselves, is the 

 influence of our life upon the 

 lives of others ! . . . For aught you can 

 tell, your existence may be a fate to 

 another— another's to you.— 'The Dewy 

 Morn.' 



28 



