IN the garden are spectral flower-stalks 

 and ghosts of former bloom. On the 

 hill-sides, dreary brown stretches made more 

 dreary and sombre by occasional gayly contrasting 

 patches of vigorous winter wheat. Down in the 

 meadows, low-lying grasses, dead rushes, and de- 

 nuded shrubs. Along the river-banks, desolate- 

 looking trees waving bare branches against leaden 

 skies. Among the wind-swept pine-tops, a wailing 

 and a moaning like the sobbing of the sea; and 

 through their trunks a solemn sound as of the deep 

 notes of an organ. 



No sun no moon ! 



No morn no noon. 



No dawn no dusk no proper time of day, 



No sky no earthly view, 



No distance looking blue, 



[63] 



