第9部分(第1/8 頁)

But　there　is　the　rustle　of　branches　in　the　morning　breeze；　there　is　the　music　of　a　sunny　shower　against　the　window；　there　is　the　matin　song　of　birds。　Several　times　lately　I　have　lain　wakeful　when　there　sounded　the　first　note　of　the　earliest　lark；　it　makes　me　almost　glad　of　my　restless　nights。　The　only　trouble　that　touches　me　in　these　moments　is　the　thought　of　my　long　life　wasted　amid　the　senseless　noises　of　man's　world。　Year　after　year　this　spot　has　known　the　same　tranquillity；　with　ever　so　little　of　good　fortune；　with　ever　so　little　wisdom；　beyond　what　was　granted　me；　I　might　have　blessed　my　manhood　with　calm；　might　have　made　for　myself　in　later　life　a　long　retrospect　of　bowered　peace。　As　it　is；　I　enjoy　with　something　of　sadness；　remembering　that　this　melodious　silence　is　but　the　prelude　of　that　deeper　stillness　which　waits　to　enfold　us　all。

XXIV

Morning　after　morning；　of　late；　I　have　taken　my　walk　in　the　same　direction；　my　purpose　being　to　look　at　a　plantation　of　young　larches。　There　is　no　lovelier　colour　on　earth　than　that　in　which　they　are　now　clad；　it　seems　to　refresh　as　well　as　gladden　my　eyes；　and　its　influence　sinks　deep　into　my　heart。　Too　soon　it　will　change；　already　I　think　the　first　radiant　verdure　has　begun　to　pass　into　summer's　soberness。　The　larch　has　its　moment　of　unmatched　beauty……and　well　for　him　whose　chance　permits　him　to　enjoy　it；　spring　after　spring。

Could　anything　be　more　wonderful　than　the　fact　that　here　am　I；　day　by　day；　not　on