Tempests and winds and winter nights!

Vex¹ not that but one sees thee grow;

  That One made all these lesser² lights.

HENRY VAUGHAN.

It was, of course, quite by accident that Sutherland had met Margaret in the fir-wood. The wind had changed during the night, and swept all the clouds from the face of the sky; and when he looked out in the morning, he saw the fir-tops waving in the sunlight, and heard the sound of a south-west wind sweeping³ through them with the tune⁴ of running waters in its course. It is a well-practised ear that can tell whether the sound it hears be that of gently falling waters, or of wind flowing through the branches of firs. Sutherland’s heart, reviving like a dormouse in its hole, began to be joyful⁵ at the sight of the genial⁶ motions of Nature, telling of warmth and blessedness at hand. Some goal of life, vague but sure, seemed to glimmer⁷ through the appearances around him, and to stimulate⁸ him to action. Be dressed in haste, and went out to meet the Spring. He wandered into the heart of the wood. The sunlight shone like a sunset upon the red trunks and boughs⁹ of the old fir-trees, but like the first sunrise of the world upon the new green fringes that edged the young shoots of the larches¹⁰. High up, hung the memorials of past summers in the rich brown tassels¹¹ of the clustering

分享到：