The lark is still fluttering in strong rapture up in the heights of the sky; and for these five minutes I listen to him, soothed and hallowed.

But, after they are past, it is different.

God's bird may be silent, as far as I am concerned: not a verse more of his clear psalm do I hear.

An uneasy devil of jealousy has entered into me, and stopped my ears.

I take hold of the bars of the gate, and peer through, as far as my head will go: then I open it, and, stealing on tiptoe up the drive a little way, to the first corner, look warily round it.