nd listen, till I do beget
That golden time again.

O blessed Bird! the earth we pace
Again appears to be
An unsubstantial faery place,
That is fit home for Thee!

Wordsworth

ON THE GRASSHOPPER AND CRICKET

The poetry of earth is never dead:
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;
That is the Grasshopper's--he takes the lead
In summer luxury--he has never done
With his delights; for when tired out with fun

He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
The poetry of earth is ceasing never:
On a lone winter evening, when the frost
Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills
The Cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever,
And seems to one in drowsiness half-lost,
The Grasshopper's among some grassy hills.

Keats

THE GREAT NORTHWEST

And now let us turn our glance to this great Northwest, whither my
wandering steps are about to lead me. Fully nine hundred miles as bird
would fly, and one thousand two hundred as horse can travel, west of Red
River, an immense range of mountains eternally capped with snow rises in
rugged masses from a vast stream-scarred plain. They who first beheld
these grand guardians of the central prairies named them the Montagnes
des Rochers (Rocky Mountains),--a fitting title for such vast
accumulations of rugged magnificence. From the glaciers and ice-valleys
of this great range of mountains, innumerable streams descend into the
plains. For a time they wander, as if heedless of direction, through
groves and glades and green-spreading declivities; then, assuming
greater fixity of purpose, they gather up many a wandering rill and
start eastward upon a long journey. At length the many detached streams
resolve themselves into two great water systems. Through hundreds of
miles these two rivers pursue their parallel courses, now approaching,
now opening out from each other. Suddenly the southern river bends
towards the north, and, at a point some six hundred miles from the
mountains, pours its volume of water into the northern channel. Then the
united river rolls, in vast, majestic curves, steadily towards the
north-east, turns once more towards the south, opens out into a great
reed-covered marsh, sweeps on into a large cedar-lined lake, and
finally, rolling over a rocky ledge, cas