Where time is come. Now in the woods may be 

 the Forest seen and heard and felt that secret presence 

 Murmurs. w j 1 j c j 1 m t} ie S p rm g months hid behind songs 

 and blossom, and later clothed itself in dense 

 veils of green and all the magic of June. 

 Something is now evident, that was not 

 evident : somewhat is entered into the forest. 

 The leaves know it : the bracken knows it : 

 the secret is in every copse, in every thicket, 

 is palpable in every glade, is abroad in every 

 shadow -thridden avenue, is common to the 

 spreading bough and the leaning branch. It 

 is not a rumour ; for that might be the wind 

 stealthily lifting his long wings from glade to 

 glade. It is not a whisper ; for that might 

 be the secret passage of unquiet airs, furtive 

 heralds of the unloosening thunder. It is 

 not a sigh ; for that might be the breath of 

 branch and bough, of fern-frond and grass, 

 obvious in the great suspense. It is an 

 ineffable communication. It comes along the 

 ways of silence ; along the ways of sound : its 

 light feet are on sunrays and on shadows. Like 

 dew, one knows not whether it is mysteriously 

 gathered from below or secretly come from 

 on high : simply it is there, above, around, 

 beneath. 



But the hush is dispelled at last. The 

 long lances of the rain come slanting through 



