NATURE NEAR LONDON 



are audible to the inner senses, while the ear fol- 

 lows the midsummer hum, now sinking, now so- 

 norously increasing over the oaks. An effulgence 

 fills the southern boughs, which the eye cannot 

 sustain, but which it knows is there. 



The sun at his meridian pours forth his light, 

 forgetting, in all the inspiration of his strength and 

 glory, that without an altar screen of green his love 

 must scorch. Joy in life ; joy in life. The ears 

 listen, and want more ; the eyes are gratified with 

 gazing, and desire yet further ; the nostrils are 

 filled with the sweet odours of flower and sap. 

 The touch, too, has its pleasures, dallying with leaf 

 and flower. Can you not almost grasp the odour- 

 laden air and hold it in the hollow of the hand ? 



Leaving the spot at last, and turning again into 

 the lane, the shadows dance upon the white dust 

 under the feet, irregularly circular spots of light 

 surrounded with umbra shift with the shifting 

 branches. By the wayside lie rings of dandelion 

 stalks, carelessly cast down by the child who made 

 them, and tufts of delicate grasses gathered for 

 their beauty but now sprinkled with dust. Wisps 

 of hay hang from the bower boughs of the oaks 

 where they brushed against the passing load. 



After a time, when the corn is ripening, the 

 herb betony flowers on the mounds under the oaks. 

 Following the lane down the hill and across the 

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