ecy
clouds; beneath was Nature's verdant carpet. The little songsters of
the grove were paying their tributes of praise in melodious strains;
the bleatings of the lambs, and the lowings of the milky mothers
re-echoed from the vallies.]

[_Alida_ page 166 (chapter XXIII):

The rumbling water-fall was again heard at the mill....]

"How still is nature," said Alida. "The sun has withdrawn his radiance,
yet the gleam from yonder western sky bespeaks him still at hand,
promising to return with his reviving warmth when nature is refreshed
with darkness. The bay is already beginning to be silvered over by the
mild rays of the queen of night. Gently she steals on the world, while
she bestows on us her borrowed splendour. She lights the wandering
traveller, she warms the earth with gentle heat. She dazzles not the eye
of the philosopher, but invites him to contemplate and admire. Scarcely
a breeze is stirring; the shadow of each tree remains undisturbed; the
unruffled bay and river glide smoothly on, reflecting nature's face.
Again the attention is drawn, and the eye wanders to yon vast concave,
where the mind follows in silent wonder, wandering among the planets,
till, struck with beauty of the whole, it acknowledges 'the Hand that
made it is divine.'

[_NY Weekly_: An Evening Meditation:

Now all is hushed, and nature seems to make a pause; the sun has
withdrawn his radiance, yet the gloom [_sic_] from yonder western
sky bespeaks him still at hand, promising to return with his
reviving warmth, when nature is refreshed with darkness.]

[_NY Weekly_: Fragment JY:

The waters of a gently murmuring stream, which ran by the foot of a
mountain, were silvered o'er by the mild rays of the queen of night.
The soothing sound of a distant cataract gently saluted the car. The
fragrant oders of flowers, watered by gentle zephyrs, breath'd a
delightful perfume.]

[_NY Weekly_: An Evening Meditation:

The moon borrows her light, and bestows it upon us; she arises in
silent majesty, humbly waiting to reign when he resigns his throne.
No chorus ushers in his reign, no rays pronounce her approach;
gently she steals on the world, and sits in silent majesty to view
the good she does. She lights the wandering traveller, she warms the
earth with gentle heat, she dazzles not the eye of the philosopher,
but invites him to view and to admire--How still is nature! not a
breeze! eac