Literature and Art 235 



throne on the crest of the hill ; and ever since, this 

 has been the language of the tree-tops. If one will 

 sit on the mossy bank of a little brook near by a 

 full-leaved forest, he ma}^ even now fancy that 

 Vanemuine is come again to earth. 



Some of the larger creatures took up the deeper 

 tones of the heavy harp strings, and their language 

 is now full of these sounds. Others loved the mel- 

 ody of the lighter strings, and fhis softer music is 

 ever in their voices. 



In his great joy Vanemuine sang songs never 

 before heard on the earth, and the listening night- 

 ingale caught their meaning, never to forget. 

 When you hear the nightingale pour out its song 

 in the dusk of evening hours, you hear an echo of 

 the song the nightingale heard upon the Hill of 

 Taara. 



Vanemuine sang of love and of the beautiful 

 springtime. The happy lark heard and understood, 

 and the sweetest tones of the song she sings over 

 and over with each returning morning. As she 

 soars higher and higher into the clear air, she sings 

 her song, trying to tell the whole world of the love 

 and beauty of which she heard so long ago. 1 



While everything else was being made so happy, 



