Friday, September 25, 2009

Daily Dose

From Great English Essays: From Bacon to Chesterton, edited by Bob Blaisdell


"And I think that when a blackbird chanced to sing in the upper branches it was as if some angelic being had dropped down out of the sky into the green translucent cloud of leaves, and seeing the child's eager face looking up had sung a little song of his own celestial country to please her."

From Her Own Village, by W. H. Hudson

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