32 SPRING-TIDE. 



as blithely as ever ; the grasshopper vaults 

 as high, and chirps as gaily ; and the 

 thrush sings from the hawthorn that feeds 

 him in the winter. While Nature each 

 season renews her livery, man has but 

 one Spring ; and through the long vista 

 of declining years regards the happy hours 

 of youth as the first sinner looked back 

 on Paradise. 



Still glides the stream, and shall not cease to glide ; 

 The Form remains, the Function never dies ; 

 While we, the brave, the mighty, and the wise 

 We men, who in our morn of youth defied 

 The elements, must vanish. 



J. I wonder what our friend Simon 

 thinks of the country? 



S. You can ask him. I '11 wager he 

 would prefer his own native meadows to 

 the streets of London, notwithstanding the 

 legends once current hereabouts that they 

 are paved with gold. Believe me, the 

 countryman looks anxiously for the return 

 of the swallow and the cuckoo. Doesn't 



