FIFTH WEEK] July 207 



as there are shades and colours at both ends of the spectrum 

 which our eyes cannot perceive, so there are tones running 

 we know not how far beyond the scale limits which affect 

 our ears. Some creatures utter noises so shrill, so sharp, 

 that it pains our ears to listen to them, and these are 

 probably on the borderland of our sound-world. 



Pipe, little minstrels of the waning year, 



In gentle concert pipe! 

 Pipe the warm noons; the mellow harvest near; 



The apples dropping ripe; 

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 The sweet sad hush on Nature's gladness laid; 



The sounds through silence heard! 

 Pipe tenderly the passing of the year. 



HARRIET McEwEN KIMBALL. 



I love to hear thine earnest voice, 



Wherever thou art hid, 

 Thou testy little dogmatist, 



Thou pretty Katydid! 

 Thou mindest me of gentlefolks, 



Old gentlefolks are they, 

 Thou say'st an undisputed thing 



In such a solemn way. 



OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 



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