NOISE AND WIND 



lustrous land-waves, swishes through the bending 

 corn as if it were clad in silken robes. And when 

 twilight stillness falls on the marshlands where stand 

 the great breadths of reeds, its noiseless breath sways 

 their drooping purple-brown plumes and rubs from 

 the stiff, straight stems and harsh leaves a short, dry, 

 crisp rustle; then, passing on, ruffles like an opening 

 fan the glassy water at their feet. 



Across the wooded ridge its quickened notes rise 

 like an anthem swell, then melt in many a soothing 

 moan, to fade away in soft and gentle sounds as 

 breaking billows on a distant shore ; again to rise and 

 sweep athwart the vale in a mighty rushing roar, and 

 die away in a diminuendo. And in the silent stillness 

 every leaf seems to stand and pause, and listen in the 

 calm to catch the distant rumble of the summer 

 storm, the first faint stir, the noise as of wings, and 

 then the running patter of great rain-drops as they 

 fall. 



Inland, the wind is seldom cruel, but sometimes 

 it seems to try its strength and, half in anger, lay the 

 forest giant low that it has gently rocked and tossed 

 since saplinghood. It is only out upon the open sea 



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