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When Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the
laughing soil

When Winter winds are piercing chill
Where are the swallows fled?

Whither, midst falling dew

Why comes this fragrance on the Summer breeze
Winter is past-the little bee resumes

Ye field flowers! the gardens eclipse you, 'tis true
Ye gentle birds, that perch aloof.

Yet one smile more, departing, distant sun!

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PROSE EXTRACTS

FROM

"Our Village" (A Frost Scene)

"Beauties of the Country" (February fill-dike)
"Our Village" (Felling Timber).
"Kavanagh" (The First Buds)

"The Spectator" (On Gladness in Spring)

"The Complete Angler" ("The time of the singing
of birds is come")

"The Complete Angler" (An Evening in May)
"Broadmead Lectures" (Spring, and its Moral Anal-

ogies).

"Chapters on Flowers" (Garden Thoughts)
"Summer-time in the Country" (Glow-worms)
'Recreations of a Country Parson" (Summer Days)
"Summer-time in the Country" (Autumn Thoughts)
"Rambles of a Naturalist" (Rock-Pools)
"The Church and the Nation (Lessons of Autumn)
"Missions among the Gipsies' (George III. and

66

the dying Gipsy)

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Kavanagh" (Autumnal Beauty).

"Pages from my Note-book" (November Bonfires).

66

Kavanagh" (The First Snow)

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LONDON: R. CLAY, SON, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS, BREAD STREET HILL.

BOUNDER WESTLEYS

& Co LONDON

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