She has perfected herself by an eternity
of practice. The world is well kept; no rubbish accumulates; the
morning air is clear even at this day, and no dust has settled on
the grass. Behold how the evening now steals over the fields,
the shadows of the trees creeping farther and farther into the
meadow, and erelong the stars will come to bathe in these retired
waters. Her undertakings are secure and never fail. If I were
awakened from a deep sleep, I should know which side of the
meridian the sun might be by the aspect of nature, and by the
chirp of the crickets, and yet no painter can paint this
difference. The landscape contains a thousand dials which
indicate the natural divisions of time, the shadows of a thousand
styles point to the hour.
"Not only o'er the dial's face,
This silent phantom day by day,
With slow, unseen, unceasing pace
Steals moments, months, and years away;
From hoary rock and aged tree,
From proud Palmyra's mouldering walls,
From Teneriffe, towering o'er the sea,
From every blade of grass it falls.
Pages:
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482