THE SONG DIES AWAY 



mount, and even light-hearted, thoughtless 

 little urchins, tumbling each other along 

 through the snow-drifts, would occasion- 

 ally pay to the resplendent, dying orb the 

 tribute of a gar 9 done, and an indication with 

 a mittened hand. 



" ' Not color but conflagration/ " I was 

 saying to myself on one of these glowing 

 occasions; and almost at the same moment, 

 along the clear, frosty air, came to me the 

 exclamation of a little peasant lad who had 

 been brought to a standstill ,by the wonder- 

 ful sight: "On dirait que c'est du feu!" 

 Another rendering of Ruskin's thought. 



Often the birds watched with me as the 

 moon rose over the great glistening ex- 

 panses, the wonderful brilliant whiteness 

 seeming almost like a return of day. Again 

 we held starlight vigils, and never before 

 had I seen night skies of so clear a blue or 

 stars of such marvelous brightness. And 

 223 



