The Song without Words.
LEAVES FROM A VERY OLD BOOK.
PART I.—THE SONG WITHOUT WORDS.
CHAPTER I.
The waves were plashing against the foot of the rocks, but the cave in which the little Child lived was far above their reach; and he lay still on his little bed of dry leaves and moss, in his soft warm clothing, and kept his eyes closed. One little hand lay on his bosom, and the other was stretched out and folded close over a tiny shell; and he lay quietly, with the last soft kisses of Slumber still sealing his eyelids, and talked in his heart to the waves.
"You are awake," he murmured. "You are always awake: night and day you sing, and dance, and roll over one another in play. You do not know what it is to sleep and to dream, nor what the joy of waking is. You sing by my bed all night, and in the morning I go and thank you. But it is not you who call me to rise from my bed." And as he spoke, a sunbeam darted across the tops of the waves, and gently crept from ledge to ledge of the old gray rocks until it pressed through the leaves which drooped over the mouth of the cave, and touched the Child's eyelids. Then he sprang joyfully up, for he knew the sun was awake and was smiling on him, and had sent him this sweet morning kiss to call him.
Meantime, the little cave had burst into an illumination: long crystals like icicles glistened on the roof, and the fine sand on the floor sparkled with a thousand gems; and the Child's heart was glad, for he knew all this was to welcome him and the sun. It was all the rocks and stones could do, and the Child looked gratefully round on the clean bright sand and the rock spars.
But his eyes rested with a different feeling on the little delicate lichens which held up their tiny cups towards him in the shade, and the soft mosses which crept in as far as they could feel the sunshine, and the leaves of the trees which grew outside. For these had each a life of its own; and each tiny threadlet of moss, and each little gray lichen cup, and every one of the green leaves of the trees, trembled and fluttered with a separate joy as the sunbeams smiled on them, the dews kissed them, or the eyes of the Child rested on them.