Hillside. 181 



overspreads the vault above, whilst long streaks of orange- 

 fire shoot upwards into space, until the fiery orb has hidden 

 itself completely behind the larch trees. Here we feel that 

 the soul and Nature are attuned together. Here we feel 

 that Nature speaks to us through something higher and 

 nobler than we have known before. Here we are far from 

 the grasping, striving world, " too much with us." Do we 

 not feel that Nature breathes nothing unkind, but that she 

 rather softens our hardness, expands our sympathies, and 

 calms us in trouble and distress? 



Darkness creeps slowly on ; the crimson glow of sunset 

 fades and fails ; the brilliant tints disappear ; the zodiacal 

 light shines clearly, extending far above the horizon. 

 Slowly we wend our way homeward. Sweet beyond all 

 things is the soft wild-flower air, borne to the senses by 

 fairy breezes. Charming beyond description is the still 

 gentle vesper of the woodland birds ; and though we miss 

 the delicious minstrelsy, and the sweet "jug, jug" of the 

 nightingale, who has long since become silent in our woods, 

 we still have the soft music of the whitethroat, the tender 

 melody of the yellow-hammer to charm our ears until dark- 

 ness overtakes us, accompanied by the ventriloquism of the 

 night-jar and the gentle murmuring of the trees, whilst the 

 glow worm lights our path, and the fragrance of the honey- 

 suckle scents the summer night. The day has given us food 

 for reflection, and here, in the living stillness, we feel with 

 Byron that 



" There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, 

 There is a rapture on the lonely shore, 

 There is society whera none intrudes, 

 By the deep saa, and music in its roar" 



