THOUGHTS FROM WRITINGS 



but life itself lengthens in summer. I 

 would spread abroad my arms and 

 gather more of it to me, could I do so. 

 —'The Life of the Fields' : The Pageant 

 of Summer. 



LET not the eyes grow dim, look 

 not back but forward ; the soul 

 ■ must uphold itself like the sun. 

 Let us labour to make the heart grow 

 larger as we become older, as the 

 spreading oak gives more shelter. That 

 we could but take to the soul some of 

 the greatness and the beauty of the 

 summer!— 'The Life of the Fields': 

 The Pageant of Summer. 



I CANNOT leave it; I must stay 

 under the old tree in the midst of 

 the long grass, the luxury of the 

 leaves, and the song in the very air. I 

 seem as if I could feel all the glowing 

 life the sunshine gives and the south 



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