THE LAP OF PROSERPINE 135 



aglow. Hazels and elms shine out pale gold ; the 

 beech has a tone of copper, and the maple's orange 

 and scarlet contrast magnificently with the deep purple 

 of the dogwood. Ash leaves turn a golden-green and 

 fall early, and often the South-west wind proper to 

 this hour snatches them from the bough untimely. But 

 their great tassels of keys hang into the late Winter, 

 and the rich brown masses of them contrast well 

 against the green of the ivy and the colour of the 

 elms. The aglets of the rose hang in scarlet sprays, 

 and the hawthorn's clustered crimson already invites 

 many a hungry beak. Thrush, starling, and blackbird 

 have long since made an end of the elder-berries and 

 the crop of the wild cherry. Acorns fall tapping from 

 their cups ; chestnuts leave their silky cases ; and the 

 three-sided, cinnamon-coloured fruits of the beech 

 crackle crisply in thousands underfoot. A small thing 

 that dies nobly is the silver- weed, and now its leaves 

 are painted with pink and gold, where they pass 

 beside the ditch. 



Now the long lane vistas sparkle and blaze into fire 

 at sudden sunlight ; but each breath of air that moves 

 the mist-laden cloud brings down a handful of leaves 

 from the trees and hedges, and the very sun, 

 suddenly shining out in a wan gleam, seems to touch 

 them and displace not a few. They flutter in his 

 beam for the last time and so sink to earth. All 

 growing things are knit in these close hedges by the 

 clematis, and for its inconspicuous flowers it now gives 

 us feathered fruits that powder the hedge with delicate 



