21 6 THE FRIENDSHIP OF NATURE 



changing; your sap has ebbed. Nature, 

 unhampered, never deals to death with 

 a painful, stinging blow. The bird 

 that the hawk grasps feels no pain; the 

 pang is deadened by a purposeful 

 mesmeric power. 



Softly! the change is coming! In 

 the southwest the sky is a clear red, 

 fading through gold to a blue white. 

 The moon, many hours high, gives a 

 gradual icy light, and the clear air is 

 stinging. What is Autumn doing down 

 by the mill house? She is haggard 

 and cold, her weaving is falling away 

 and her shuttle is warping as with 

 trembling fingers she frees the leash 

 from the black frost hound, her exe- 

 cutioner. Away! river, wall, trellis, 

 nothing impedes his blasting course ! 



A pall lies on the ground the first 

 morning after, but the next brings frost 

 flowers, which graft their fairy blossoms 



