bBo) OUTDOOR STUDIES 
ing such a hothouse glory, never drooping into 
such a blush, blooms on placidly in the quiet 
waters, till she modestly folds her leaves for 
the last time, and bows her head beneath the 
surface forever. Next year she lives for us 
only in her children, fair and pure as herself. 
Nay, not alone in them, but also in memory. 
The fair vision will not fade from us, though 
the paddle has dipped its last crystal drop from 
the waves, and the boat is drawn upon the 
shore. We may yet visit many lovely and 
lonely places, — meadows thick with violet, or 
the homes of the shy Rhodora, or those slop- 
ing forest haunts where the slight Linnea 
hangs its twin-born heads, — but no scene will 
linger on our vision like this annual Feast of 
the Lilies. On scorching mountains, amid raw 
prairie winds, or upon the regal ocean, the white 
pageant shall come back to memory again, with 
all the luxury of summer heats, and all the fra- 
grant coolness that can relieve them. We shall 
fancy ourselves again among these fleets of 
anchored lilies, — again, like Urvasi, sporting 
amid the Lake of Lotuses. 
For that which is remembered is often more 
vivid than that which is seen. The eye paints 
better in the presence, the heart in the absence, 
of the object most dear. ‘He who longs after 
beautiful Nature can best describe her,” said 
