The Worcester spy. [volume] (Worcester, Mass.) 1898-1904, 1901-10-09
THE GLORY OF THE HOUR

In the golden haze of the October
sunshine life is festival. The air is
a tonic.
To live is beatitude. The autumnal
tints and hues, the russets and redst
the browns and greens, the scarlet
and the yellow which beckon and
smile and flame from park and grove,
from lawn and forest. kindle the love'
and joy of beauty in every mind, and
fairly intoxicate the soul with fragrant
doors and marvellous colors.
'Tis a priceless pleasure to walk
amid these miracles and to meet the
mystery and sublimity of the Eternal
In the burning bush in the field and
in the myriads of brilliant stars which
scintillate and blaze in the awful dome
of night.
The day from dawn's quiet advance
through the splendor and activity of
the Fastening hours to the tranquility
and majesty of the night, is an unfold
ing of surprises and marvels which
no Oriental dream nor chapter from
the ARABIAN Nights" can parallel.
Surely, Emerson was quite within
the bounds of sobriety and truth when
he said GIVE me health and a day.
and I will make the pomp of emperors
ridiculous" He must have been writ
ing in october.
No wonder the ancients worshiped
nature. No wonder the trees and the
winds We're gods, that the rivers and
lakes, the brooks and caves, the noun
tains and valleys were the abodes of
communities of benevolent deities. We
speak not now of the malevolent be-
ings, of demons and diabolical
creatures. We are thinking only of the
beauty and joy of the happy autumn
days, and resent the intrusion into our
optimistic meditations of the shadows
Of darkness or the ghost of evil.
Only yesterday it was spring! Only
yesterday the roses bIoomed and the
tulips lifted themselves up and smiled.
Only yesterday the apple blossoms and
the robins were rejoicing over the
grave where winters shrunken and
lifeless form had been laid away!
And only an hour ago summer was
here! Lusty, vigorous, feryid and
voluptuous summer, Astounding with
life and pressing hot kisses upon the
responsive and happy earth. o sum
mer, with the soft west wind and the
glorious nights when we sailed be-
meath the great round moon which
flooded the placid lake with her silver
sheen-has thou gone so soon?
Yet, in our memory fingers one Au-
gust night-a night beautiful and
calm, when, to the sound of the guitar
and voices lifted in song, we glided
over the waters glistening in the
beauty of the moonbeams and gently
caressed by the wandering southern
wind. The lofty mountains like giant
sentinels cast their mighty shadows
DER the landscape and every sight and
sound of nature was a voice of bewil-
dering and rapturous joy to the open
soul
Yes, even yet, the vision of that
summer night abides and will abide,
despite the swift, inevitable flood
which bears away the reluctant sum-
mer hours.
Sometimes we strive to utter and ex-
press the thronging thoughts, the
sweet and solemn sentiments, the
longings and the hopes, the pathos and
the faith, sheltered within our bosom
as the pageant of October moves
swiftly past us IN it's march into the
yesterdays, into the past, into eter-
nifty
But today we strive not, nor cry.
We wait at the altar of the world in
natures majestic temple and commune
with the secret joys and SORROWS of
our own hearts, while the oracles of
the invisible whisper things too sacred,
too transcendent, too inarticulate to
utter.
In silence we witness the hurrying
procession of our days. In silence we
say farewell to visions and voices
that come no more forever. But mute
and speeches. though our lips may be,
there are no holier and purer thoughts
in the hearts of the angelic hosts than
those which visit our souls as we
open the Utmost sanctuary of the
mind to the ministry of nature and
the memories which knock at the door