WILDWOOD WAYS 



beauty to the making of the symmetrical 

 whole. 



In it all there was no feeling of weight. 

 As a matter of fact it pressed the smaller 

 shrubs and trees well down toward earth. 

 The narrow woodland path was barred 

 with a woven portcullis of white that had 

 swung down from either side. Here and 

 there in the open the smaller pasture 

 cedars were bowed to the ground, doing 

 reverence to the garment of mystic purity 

 with which the earth was sanctified as if 

 for the passing of the grail. In a mo- 

 ment you expected to see some Galahad 

 rise from his knees with shining face, 

 take horse beneath the marble towers of 

 this woodland Camelot, and ride down 

 white lanes in holy quest. In the deep 

 wood the seedling pines broke through 

 the drifts like gnomes from mines of 

 alabaster, whimsical green faces show- 



