“The outward shows of sky and earth,
Of hill and valley he has viewed;
And impulses of deeper birth
Have come to him in solitude.
“In common things that round us lie,
Some random truths he can impart,
—The harvest of a quiet eye
That broods and sleeps on his own heart.”
WORDSWORTH.
CONTENTS.
| PAGE | |
| The Old Year and the New | [1] |
| Musings on the Threshold | [23] |
| Spring Days | [41] |
| Musings in a Wood | [63] |
| The May-days of the Soul | [85] |
| Summer Days | [101] |
| Musings in the Hay | [123] |
| The Beauty of Rain | [145] |
| Autumn Days | [161] |
| Musings on the Sea-shore | [183] |
| Musings on the Mountains | [199] |
| Musings in the Twilight | [221] |
| Winter Days | [241] |
| The End of the Seasons | [265] |
| Under Bare Boughs | [283] |