118 Timeless Night 



time, in which nations might wax and thrones 

 perish, in worlds of daylight far away. So might 

 the despair and triumph of man's strife alternate 

 upon the immortals' drowsy ears. Though the 

 night is so brief, there is always an unmistakable 

 half -hour in its heart when the old day is cast aside 

 and a new one is born. After the last nightjar or 

 nightingale has stopped singing, and a little before 

 the glow in the north begins surely to brighten, 

 there is a sense of change in the night. The dark- 

 ness grows cooler ; and often a new drift in the 

 currents of air makes an almost imperceptible 

 difference in the faint and distant sounds which 

 underlie every silence. Then comes the wind that 

 leads up the dawn ; sometimes a little wandering 

 breeze, filled with a new scent of morning, and some- 

 times a restless blast. In settled summer weather, 

 when both the old day and the new are equally hot 

 and calm, sometimes a cold east wind will toss the 

 trees for half an hour at dawn, and die down before 

 sunrise. This wave of air racing round the world 

 before the sun is the real boundary between day 

 and day ; and even when it is only a breeze that 

 makes a moment's sighing in the oak-tops, it pours 

 the same magical coolness and freshness in place 

 of the old scents of night. 



Through all the peace and all the changes of the 

 night the activity of nature works with unresting 

 power. Under the dense leaves, from bough to 

 bough, come pattering downwards the unripe chest- 

 nuts and beechnuts that are rejected before autumn 

 ripens the crop. In the first light of dawn a yellow 



