The leaves were
bursting from their sheaths with such rapidity that the trees seemed
actually to greet you as you passed along. The vestal choirs of
snow-drops and violets were chanting their gentle hopes from every
bank, the orchards were white with blossoms, and the birds singing in
almost tumultuous glee.
We drove for some time in silence, perhaps fearful to disturb the
universal song by less melodious accents, when Aglauron said:
"How entirely are we new-born today! How are all the post cold skies
and hostile breezes vanished before this single breath of sweetness!
How consoling is the truth thus indicated!"
_Laurie_. It is indeed the dearest fact of our consciousness,
that, in every moment of joy, pain is annihilated. There is no past,
and the future is only the sunlight streaming into the far valley.
_Aglauron._ Yet it was the night that taught us to prize the day.
_Laurie._ Even so. And I, you know, object to none of the "dark
masters."
_Aglauron_. Nor I,--because I am sure that whatever is, is good;
and to find out the _why_ is all our employment here. But one
feels so at home in such a day as this!
_Laurie._ As this, indeed! I never heard so many birds, nor saw
so many flowers.
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