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and rouse the innocent sheep which slept there, to pasture 

 on the fresh grass ; the cattle too are moving, some from 

 the great oak, others from the coppice-wood, which is 

 seen at intervals among the trees. The business of the 

 farm now commences, and the labourers are abroad. 

 You may, perhaps, chance to see one of them pass this way, 

 in going to, or returning from the fields, either to gather 

 in the crops of hay, or corn, or to plough the land ac- 

 cording to the season of the year. But this is of rare 

 occurrence, few care to visit the old oak, and the pathway 

 does not lead across the area by which it is surrounded. 



At noon day when the sun is high, how quiet is this 

 place ! The song-birds are silent, but the hum of 

 insects is at its height; they float up and down, 

 and seem to rest on the soft air, as if threading the 

 mazes of a dance, and then advancing and retreating 

 with a cease! ess buzz. But when the shadow of the tree 

 lengthens upon the grass, and the beams of the setting 

 sun tint its topmost boughs of a golden hue, first one 

 bird carols, and then another. Then also the breathing 

 of the oxen, and the brushing sound which they make 

 in cropping the damp grass, become audible. No one 

 listens to them at noon, but the deep silence which 

 begins to steal over the place, when twilight renders the 

 large objects alone visible, brings the slightest movement 

 to the ear. At length even such faint sounds are heard 

 no longer ; the birds cease their songs, and when the 

 moonbeams shine into the cavern which time has formed 



