Towards democracy, стр. 90

76 Towards Democracy

Without, how peaceful the scene! ;

The crisp sound of browsing, the liquid blue-violet eyes’ of the white calf, her budding horns, her sweet breath, her muscular tongue encircling the tufts of grass, the impatient _ sideway thrust of the head with which she tears them,

The fearlessness with which she gives her head to be caressed and hugged by the little girl just come down from the farm.

The sun withdraws his rays; the many shadows are merged in one;

The sweet odor of the white campion comes floating, and of the wild roses in neighboring hedgerows, and of the distant bean-fields ;

Twilight comes, and dusk comes, and the height of the sky lifts and lifts ;

The last of the long daylight fades:

Over the fields and by the hedgerows and along the sprawling suburban streets of London the last of the long daylight fades :

Over the roof of the high opera-house—late grey and ghostly in contrast with the myriad twinkling lamps belowby those within unthought of, it fades:

Where—amid a blaze of light and color, elate, to her full height drawn, tier upon tier of faces, thousands of eyes confronting, and saturated with the excitement of the moment, | every vein in her beautiful body bounding—

The prima donna lifts clear and unfaltermg in the finale her splendid voice,