FOURTH DAY. 105 



love the country, and its quiet scenes withal, 

 much the more for these rambles by the 

 river-side. What a lovely sunset ! 



S. " Sweet even-tide, 



When ruddy Phoebus gins to welke in west." 



J. I confess that the air of these soli- 

 tudes is more bracing and soul-expanding 

 than the murky atmosphere of London ; 

 but I cannot forbear thinking that Winter 

 must reign here in all his rigour, and then 

 the meadows are no longer lovely. 



S. And then new scenes await you ; 

 the whole aspect of Nature is changed. 

 The songsters of the grove are silent., but 

 migratory birds abound. The snipe and 

 the woodcock seek the marshes and the 

 brook ; the fieldfare congregates on the hill 

 side and mingles its note with that of the 

 redwing ; yes, 



" When all around the wind does blow, 



And coughing drowns the parson's saw, 

 When birds sit brooding in the snow, 

 And Marian's nose looks red and raw," 



