136 SYLVAN WINTER. 



and twigs of deciduous trees by the peculiai' 

 beauty of their glaucous foliage. Even the float- 

 ing weed in stagnant water seemed peculiarly 

 ricb in its vivid greenness. Upon green patches 

 of turf peeping out of flooded meadows rooks 

 were perched, giving relief again by their sable 

 plumage to the colours around them. 



It is the sun, however, which is the power tbat 

 gives life to all the colours of forest, sea-shore, 

 lane, or meadow. Under its inspiriting rays, 

 gold and purple, and red and orange, the shades 

 of brown and th.e shades of green, exhibit the 

 hues which charm us by their intrinsic beauty and 

 by the loveliness of contrast. In its absence a 

 uniform dullness overspreads the tints we have 

 admired ; but even when the orb of day retires 

 for a period behind masses of cloud, we often 

 have almost a repetition of the tints momentarily 

 withdrawn from the earth. We may not wait 

 long for the return of the golden beams, and the 

 intermittent play of light is in itself beautiful, 

 for it brings in its train the variety which 

 charms. 



