This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1888 Excerpt: ...sees too much. As sight would rob religion of the glory of faith, so it robs loveliness of the benefits of imagination. One may tire of Nature by day, --the sun makes her common. When morning has fully come, we may go within-doors and eat; we may go to our toil; we may strike our tents and move on, weary of the dusty ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1888 Excerpt: ...sees too much. As sight would rob religion of the glory of faith, so it robs loveliness of the benefits of imagination. One may tire of Nature by day, --the sun makes her common. When morning has fully come, we may go within-doors and eat; we may go to our toil; we may strike our tents and move on, weary of the dusty road. For not until the glare is passed and the hot sun dimmed by coming shadows and cooled by falling dew, need we halt on the march or come forth from our doors to look about us. Verily to the lover of Nature, whether on plain or amid hills, or shore of sea, the night is the time to wake. Then should eyes be opened as stars and orbed for vision, as is the moon when it rolls in rounded perfection through the lighted skies. And oh, the voices of the night! The day is tuneless. Man monopolizes it with his noises; with the murmurs of his trade, the roar and rumble of his commerce; with the strident calls of his shoutings, his cursing, and his turbulence. But with the night comes that silence which is vocal. Then Nature sinsrs. Her tunefulness is heard abroad, and her soft melodies come sweetly to listening ears. The sod finds speech; the brook murmurs to the banks; the trees whisper and call in sylvan concert; and through all the fields a thousand tongues, unknown among the languages of men, break forth in sweet expression. To many I know that what I write will be a mystery, or only as the joining of meaningless words, but to others it will come freighted with soberness and truth. For they, as well as I, have camped upon the shores of lakes amid the circling woods; have stood alone at night on boundless prairies, and thrown themselves down amid the grasses and flowers, unable to sleep because of the glory that was above them, the odors that they b..
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