SWAYING TREE TOPS 



road, but they only seem to make the 

 unshadowed places lighter. The road 

 winds to the east side of the ridge, 

 where I can look over the tree tops to 

 the distant mountains, that are lying 

 like sentinels guarding the gate- 

 way whence the dawn shall come. 

 Then the highway slips along the 

 western ledge, below which all is 

 dark and full of mystery as yet. 

 After the heat of the day, the deli- 

 cious coolness of the night air is a 

 tonic draught, and I think I could 

 thus walk on forever and never 

 weary. The woods give out the odor 

 of dew-refreshed plant and flower. 

 The air is heavy with the scent of 

 the pines, which stand solemn and 

 ghostly at the foot of the ridge. 

 There is no sound except the chirp 



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