The voice of freedom. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1839-1848, 1846-06-18
The Fields and Flowers.

Some people talk of beauties which
they never saw, and fancy raptures lha
they never knew. Thompson, it is said
wrote his SPLENDID poem OF 'The Seasons,
IN the back room of an antiquated house
in the country. And others, we suppose
have drunk deep at The fount of jnspira.
ton, aud then returned, and, in silence &
ia solitude, poured out their great receiv'
ings. when time had matured The draught,
and mingled Herewith a portion of the
container.
We have not so much fancy, The inn
preston we receive now, must be impar,>
ed soon, or we lose the power 10 transfer,
like the types OF our printing, upon which
the ink dries unless soon given to the pa
per.
We went forth, last Saturday to see the
summer. 1t was the first day of June,
and nature had assumed her gala dress,
and we would see her-see her in her
most sumptuous garb, teeming in rio hes,
and attractive in beauty. So we went
some FIVE or six miles on the second street
road--no! hat nature is more there, than
in any other direction, for it is ever felt
Gin the void waste as in the city fult'--but
thilher We went, and when we had wando
cred about the garden of our friend Ford,
and tasted of his fruit, we wandered away
10 look at the fields. 1t is there that the
delight of the season is to be found, and
there it is abundant. Stretching upward
toward the top of the fence, rich clover
waved TO The wind in solid masses, and
poured out a perfume like 'Araby The
best There is something gorgeous,
voIupluous, in a clover field. So thick &
solid Stand the stalks, that the breeze, in
passing over it, seems to make it tremble,
rather than wave, md 10 bear from it a
load of sweets, that make it lineer almost
into a calm, as it tolls onwards with lis
burthen.
The next field was one o frye. lis slim
heads were up, and jus. bowling with their
growing weight, bending with grace, as
the great are supposed 10 do, when they
promises Of favor.
Adjoining the above was a field of
wheat, more modest in its exhibition
yet bearded like the pard. The rich
green denoted luxuriant growth md d a.
bundant health; but we are told that be.
a projecting leaf, lurked an enc
lha! was drawing away the life of the
plant, and was thus blasting the beauty of
he field, and the hope of the hus5andman.
what is there beautiful in life, that |
not the receptacle, The home of some-
hing that is to associate it with dealh?--
And on what do we set our hopes, and
build our expectation here, that does not
away like the grass Of the field, OF
like the flower that blossoms in our
sight.
Beyond all these, the mower had struck
his scyIhe into a south slope of clover,
early ripened, yet fresh and full of per.
fume; and every blow of the scylhe seem
ed to release long pent up odors, and load
the air with an almost oppressive sweet
ness. The grass that was falling, had all
its richness in its death, and will, when it
ceases to live, the power of delighling and
sustaining, as the virtues Of the good man
c%ontinne when he has passed away, aud
the memory and beauty of his
in unfailing sweets.
Those who would enjoy nature in her
holiday, should nov 60 forth from the
city. 1t is the time when the year is most
beautiful, and when every beauty, and ev-
cry sweet of field, and tree, and flower,
may be enjoyed by the poorest, as fully
and perfectly as by the richest. No fence
or wal will conceal the luxurious rich.
ness of the field and meadows, nor shut off
he odors which they i,npart to the air
And gratitude and praise may ascend
from every %tuneful breast, for all of de-
light and pleasure which these displays
can make, because every thing they
give,
Beyond the rich possessor's narrowed claim,
His tuneful breast enjoys