The birds grew silent, because their history laid hold upon them, compelling them to turn their words into deeds, and keep eggs warm, and hunt for worms.

The butterflies died of old age and delight.

The green life of the earth rushed up in corn to be ready for the time of need.

The corn grew ripe, and therefore weary, hung its head, died, and was laid aside for a life beyond its own.

The keen sharp old mornings and nights of autumn came back as they had come so many thousand times before, and made human limbs strong and human hearts sad and longing.