Fair forms and hoary seers of ages past,
All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills,
Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun; the vales,
Stretching in pensive quietness between;
The venerable woods; rivers that move
In majesty, and the complaining brooks
That make the meadows green; and, poured round all,
Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste,--
Are but the solemn decorations all
Of the Great Tomb of Man!





CHAPTER V.

CONCERNING SUMMER DAYS.




There are some people whom all nature helps. They have somehow
got the material universe on their side. What they say and do, at
least upon important occasions, is so backed up by all the surroundings
that it never seems out of keeping with these, and still less ever
seems to be contradicted by these. When Mr. Midhurst [Footnote: See
the New Series of Friends in Council.] read his essay on the Miseries
of Human Life, he had all the advantage of a gloomy, overcast day.
And so the aspect of the external world was to the essay like the