第5部分(第2/7 頁)

The　city　is　interesting；　but　the　tactual　silence　of　the　country　is

always　most　wele　after　the　din　of　town　and　the　irritating　concussions

of　the　train。　How　noiseless　and　undisturbing　are　the　demolition；　the

repairs　and　the　alterations；　of　nature！　With　no　sound　of　hammer　or　saw

or　stone　severed　from　stone；　but　a　music　of　rustles　and　ripe　thumps　on

the　grass　e　the　fluttering　leaves　and　mellow　fruits　which　the　wind

tumbles　all　day　from　the　branches。　Silently　all　droops；　all　withers；　all

is　poured　back　into　the　earth　that　it　may　recreate；　all　sleeps　while　the

busy　architects　of　day　and　night　ply　their　silent　work　elsewhere。　The

same　serenity　reigns　when　all　at　once　the　soil　yields　up　a　newly　wrought

creation。　Softly　the　ocean　of　grass；　moss；　and　flowers　rolls　surge　upon

surge　across　the　earth。　Curtains　of　foliage　drape　the　bare　branches。

Great　trees　make　ready　in　their　sturdy　hearts　to　receive　again　birds

which　occupy　their　spacious　chambers　to　the　south　and　west。　Nay；　there

is　no　place　so　lowly　that　it　may　not　lodge　some　happy　creature。　The

meadow　brook　undoes　its　icy　fetters　with　rippling　notes；　gurgles；　and

runs　free。　And　all　this　is　wrought　in　less　than　two　months　to　the　music

of　nature's　orchestra；　in　the　midst　of　balmy　incense。

The　thousand　soft　voices　of　the　earth　have　truly　found　their　way　to

me……the　small　rustle　in　tufts　of　grass；　the　silky　swish　of　leaves；　the

buzz　of　insects；　the　hum　of　bees　in　blossoms　I　have　plucked；　the　flutter

of　a　bird's　wings　after　his　bath；　and　the　slender　rippling　vibration

of　water　running　over　pebbles。　Once　having　been　felt；　these　loved　voices

rustle；　buzz；　hum；　flutter；　and　ripp