AT PEEP OF DAY 



the return of light and warmth to the world." 

 They are telling only of cheer and of present glad- 

 ness: " Singing like the poets without an after- 

 thought," and it is no minor chord in the carol it- 

 self, but some subtle association with the robin's 

 song, that so often fills the human listener's heart 

 with wistful sadness. 



And now, are you not conscious of another mel- 

 ody blending with the songs of birds? It is the 

 harmony of fragrance. The flower-forms are still 

 indistinct in the grayness, but their musical greet- 

 ings are wafted to us on the dewy air. There is 

 a general mingling of fragrance as there was of 

 song, but with the flowers, as with the birds, 

 an occasional voice more potent than its fel- 

 lows reaches us with unusual distinctness. Even 

 the tender grass has its own fragrant little 

 utterance. 



How fleeting the glories of the beautiful " lilac- 

 tide." No perfume of either purple or white blos- 

 som reaches us now from yonder hedge where, but 

 a short time ago, both beauties appeared in such 

 profusion. The magnolia-trees have cast aside 

 their bloom and clad themselves in luxuriant fo- 

 liage, while upon the fruit-trees, so recently cov- 

 ered with a " foam of blossoms," scarcely a flower 



