"Nature is mythical and mystical always, and works with a license and extravagance of genius. She has her luxurious and florid style as well as art. Having a Pilgrim's Cup to make, she gives to the whole—stem, bowl, handle, and nose—some fantastic shape, as if it were to be the car of some fabulous marine Deity, a Nereous or Triton."
THE GLADNESS OF NATURE.
Is this a time to be cloudy and sad,
When our mother Nature laughs around;
When even the deep blue heavens look glad,
And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground?
There are notes of joy from the hand-bird and wren,
And the gossip of swallows through all the sky;
The ground-squirrel gayly chirps by his den,
And the wilding bee hums merrily by.
The clouds are at play in the azure space,
And their shadows at play on the bright green vale,
And there they stretch to the frolie chase,
And there they roll on the easy gale.
There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower,
There's a titter of winds in that beechen tree,
There's a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower,
And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea
And look at the broad-faced sun, how he smiles
On the dewey earth that smiles in his ray
On the leaping waters and gay young isles;
Ay, look, and he'll smile thy gloom away.
