THOUGHTS FROM WRITINGS 



SO it has ever been to me, by day 

 or by night, summer or winter, 

 beneath the trees the heart feels 

 nearer to that depth of life the far sky 

 means. The rest of spirit found only in 

 beauty, ideal and pure, comes there be- 

 cause the distance seems within touch 

 of thought. To the heaven thought can 

 reach lifted by the strong arms of the 

 oak, carried up by the ascent of the 

 flame-shaped fir. — * The Open Air' : Wild 

 Flowers. 



IF we had never before looked upon 

 the earth, but suddenly came to it 

 man or woman grown, set down in 

 the midst of a summer mead, would it 

 not seem to us a radiant vision ? The 

 hues, the shapes, the song and life of 

 birds, above all the sunlight, the breath 

 of heaven, resting on it ; the mind would 

 be filled with its glory, unable to grasp 

 it, hardly believing that such things 



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