Under the trees . rns Hkea tide, and out of the unseen depths a new-life breaks soundless upon the unseen shoresand sends its hidden currents into everydried and empty channel and pool. Theworn old world has been created anew, andGod has spoken again the word out ofwhich all living things grow. In the silenceand peace and freshness of this morninghour one feels the inspiration of Nature as adirect and personal gift; the inbreathing,which has renewed the beauty and fertilityabout him, renews his spirit also. He re-sponds to the fresh and invigorating atmo-sphere with a soul sensitive with sudde
Under the trees . rns Hkea tide, and out of the unseen depths a new-life breaks soundless upon the unseen shoresand sends its hidden currents into everydried and empty channel and pool. Theworn old world has been created anew, andGod has spoken again the word out ofwhich all living things grow. In the silenceand peace and freshness of this morninghour one feels the inspiration of Nature as adirect and personal gift; the inbreathing,which has renewed the beauty and fertilityabout him, renews his spirit also. He re-sponds to the fresh and invigorating atmo-sphere with a soul sensitive with suddenreturn of zest to every beautiful sight andsound. No longer an alien in this worldwhich has never known human care andregret, he enters by right of citizenship intoall its privileges of unwatched freedom andunclouded serenity. One is not absorbedby the glory of the morning, but set freeby it. There are times when Nature per-mits no rivalry; she claims every thoughtand gives herself to us only as we give our-134 X. % iIa m^ if M\ selves to her complete possession of our souls. Not so,however, does she usurp the throne of ourown personal life in those early hours whenthe sun, the master artist, whose touch hascoloured every leaf and tinted every flower,demands her adoration. Then it is, per-haps, that she turns her thoughts from alllesser companionships and, wrapped in uni-versal worship, suffers us to pass and repassas unnoticed as the idlers in the cathedralby those who kneel at the chancel rail, I confess I never find myself quite un-moved in this sacred hour, announced onlyby the stars veiling their faces and the birdsbreaking the silence with their tumultuoussong. The universal faith becomes minealso, and from the common worship I amnot debarred. My thought rises whither themists, parted from the unseen censers, arerising: 1 feel wlthni me the revival ofaspirations and faiths that were fast over-clouding; the stir of old hopes is in myheart; the thrill of old purposes is in
Size: 1440px × 1735px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, booksubjectnatural, bookyear1902
