180 STUDIES IN THE FIELD AND FOREST. 



tion of exhausted nature, they sing more gayly than at 

 any other period ; and the stillness and dampness of the 

 air causes their notes to resound clearly through the 

 groves, now sparkling with the mingled rain drops and 

 sunshine. Every herb, tree, and flower, sends forth a 

 fresh offering of incense ; and as the sun declines, the 

 clouds that gather about his throne, receive from him a 

 tribute of all the varied tints of the rainbow, and illu- 

 minate the western hemisphere with a wreath of in- 

 finitely variegated and constantly changeable splen- 

 dor. 



But summer, with all its delightful occasions of joy 

 and rejoicing, is in one respect the most melancholy 

 season of the year. We are now the constant wit- 

 nesses of some regretful change in the aspect of nature, 

 reminding us of the fate of all things, and the transi- 

 toriness of existence. Every morning sun looks down 

 upon the graves of some whole tribes of flowers, that 

 were but yesterday the pride and glory of the fields, 

 and the admiration of the impassioned beholder. Every 

 time I pursue my walks, while rejoicing at the discovery 

 of some new and beautiful visitant of the flowery 

 meads, I am suddenly affected with sorrow, upon look- 

 ing around in vain for some little companion of my 

 latest excursion, now drooping and faded, and breath- 

 ing out its last breath of fragrance into the air. 



I am then reminded of early friends who are con- 

 stantly leaving us for another state ; who are cut down 

 one by one like the flowers, and leave their places to be 

 supplied by new friends, perhaps equally lovely and 

 worthy of our affections, but whose even greater loveli- 

 ness and worth, can never comfort us for the loss of 

 those who have departed. Like flowers they smile 

 upon us for a brief season, and like flowers they perish, 



