October, 1873.



THE AIR-MOTHERS--1869--Die Natur ist die Bewegung



Who are these who follow us softly over the moor in the autumn
eve? Their wings brush and rustle in the fir-boughs, and they
whisper before us and behind, as if they called gently to each
other, like birds flocking homeward to their nests.

The woodpecker on the pine-stems knows them, and laughs aloud for
joy as they pass. The rooks above the pasture know them, and
wheel round and tumble in their play. The brown leaves on the oak
trees know them, and flutter faintly, and beckon as they pass.
And in the chattering of the dry leaves there is a meaning, and a
cry of weary things which long for rest.

"Take us home, take us home, you soft air-mothers, now our fathers
the sunbeams are grown dull. Our green summer beauty is all
draggled, and our faces are grown wan and wan; and the buds, the
children whom we nourished, thrust us off, ungrateful, from our
seats. Waft us down, you soft air-mothers, upon your wings to the
quiet earth, that we may go to our home, as all things go, and
become air and sunlight once again."

And the bold young fir-seeds know them, and rattle impatient in