Musings by camp-fire and wayside . d them with lilies, causedthem to duplicate their brilliant autumnal shores,to reflect the passing cloud, and in many a silentand solitary night cast bridges across them ofshimmering moonbeams. And this display ofnatural beauty, to which no description coulddo justice, has unfailingly been repeated day andnight for many centuries, unseen by man, unap-preciated, unknown. Wherever natural beauty is,there is silence also. And this is a law. A noisyperson in the presence of a great painting would beinvited by the guard to leave the room; or if in themidst of the
Musings by camp-fire and wayside . d them with lilies, causedthem to duplicate their brilliant autumnal shores,to reflect the passing cloud, and in many a silentand solitary night cast bridges across them ofshimmering moonbeams. And this display ofnatural beauty, to which no description coulddo justice, has unfailingly been repeated day andnight for many centuries, unseen by man, unap-preciated, unknown. Wherever natural beauty is,there is silence also. And this is a law. A noisyperson in the presence of a great painting would beinvited by the guard to leave the room; or if in themidst of the rendering of a fine piece of music,would be regarded by all present as possessingneither decency nor sense. Even the rivulets, clearand cold, seem to steal their way into such a scenecautious as the foot of a hunter. Back in the hillsthey plash and leap under their veils of overhangingfoliage. But as they approach this gem of Naturesart they leave their merriment behind. The boomof a falling tree comes over the wooded ridge, and62. Nature s Music, Art, and Industry 63 the guide pricks up his ears and says, The beaversare at work. So these carpenters of the wilder-ness ply their vocation with no sound of ax or crow made his appearance and appeared ambitiousof the distinction of being the noisiest crow thatever cawed. There was not a note of which histhroat was capable on which he did not perform allthe variations; then with a petulant and querulouscomplaint he rose from the dead pine and flew awayacross the hills. But even the crow only made thesilence more silent, as his black plumage increasedthe whiteness of the gray pine on which he wasperched. When, however. Nature would exhibit that formof beauty called grandeur, she does not alwaysregard it inappropriate to call for noble music. Weadmire the ocean, but only where it breaks uponthe shore, and where, with a massive rush, thewaves leap at and partly climb the cliffs, and perse-veringly return after each rebuff to try a
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Keywords: ., bookauthorgraywill, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1902
