THE FLIGHT OF THE WOOD-NYMPHS. 439 



and of the native drapery that hung from their boughs. 

 They wept over the exiled birds and the perished flowers 

 of the wildwood, and fled sorrowfully to some new and 

 distant haunts. The nymphs who used to frequent these 

 shady retreats had also fled. Woods, groves, hills, and 

 valleys were all deserted ; and the cold, lifeless forms that 

 were carved out of marble stood there alone, the mere 

 symbols of charms that no longer existed. 



The village children who formerly assembled here to 

 gather bouquets of wild roses, red summer lilies, and the 

 sweet-scented pyrola, that grew up like a nun under the 

 shade of the deep woods, came often since the improve- 

 ments, but searched in vain for their favorite flowers. 

 They no longer saw the squirrel upon the tree or the nest 

 of the sparrow upon the vine-clad wall. The grounds, 

 that seemed once to belong to them as well as to their 

 rustic proprietor, now displayed something in their aspect 

 that made them feel like intruders, as soon as they set 

 foot within their borders. These old woods and pastures, 

 now that they were metamorphosed into park and lawn, 

 had lost their charms for them, and they turned away 

 with sadness, when they thought of the delightful arbors 

 that would shelter them no more. 



But the children were not the only sorrowers. The 

 ladies of the mansion were grieved when they found that 

 the rural deities had fled from the very objects which 

 were erected for their shrines. The cause of their flight 

 was a problem they could not explain. "Why would they 

 no longer dwell in their ancient abodes that seemed now 

 so much worthier the residence of beings of a superior 

 nature? Could not the beautiful green lawn that had 

 taken the place of the weedy pasture, nor the commo- 

 dious park which was once a tangled wood; nor the 

 charming flowers of all climes which had been substituted 

 for the inferior wild-flowers, nor the marble fountain 



