SOIL THOUGHTS 



AMONG the hills, the girl with her 

 violets and I follow the winding road, 

 in the heart of a quiet land. The 

 day is one which, if you were to come 

 upon suddenly, you would be uncer- 

 tain whether it were early spring or 

 late autumn. You know not what 

 the stillness in the air promises. It 

 may be that the trees are to bud 

 to-morrow, or the snowflakes drift 

 across the landscape. 



Warm and golden were the sun's 

 rays as we went on our way, but so 

 far afield did we go that the sun set 

 behind a cloud and evening fell about 

 us. No bird whistled cheerily from 

 the tree top, but a leaf fluttered 

 down to join its fellows, wind-heaped 



[126] 



