With the exception of the blackbird's song, every thing seemed
as if stricken into silence; there was not a breeze stirring; both
animate and inanimate nature reposed as if in a trance; the very trees
appeared asleep, and their leaves motionless, as if they had been of
marble. But now the scene was changed. The sun had flung his splendor
upon the mountain-tops, from which the mists were tumbling in broken
fragments to the valleys between them. A thousand birds poured their
songs upon the ear; the breeze was up, and the columns of smoke from the
farm-houses and cottages played, as if in frolic, in the air. A white
haze was beginning to rise from the meadows; early teams were afoot;
and laborers going abroad to their employment. The lakes in the
distance shone like mirrors; and the clear springs on the mountain-sides
glittered in the sun, like gems on which the eye could scarcely rest.
Life, and light, and motion, appear to be inseparable. The dew of
morning lay upon nature like a brilliant veil, realizing the beautiful
image of Horace, as applied to woman:
Vultus nimium lubricus aspici.
By-and-by the songs of the early workmen were heard; nature had awoke,
and Owen, whose heart was strongly, though unconsciously, alive to the
influence of natural religion, participated in the general elevation
of the hour, and sought with freshened spirits the house of his
entertainer.
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