" "How charming the
young would be," writes Arthur Helps, "with their freshness,
fearlessness, and truthfulness, if only--to take a metaphor from
painting--they would make more use of grays and other neutral tints,
instead of dabbing on so recklessly the strongest positives in color."
Why should their colors not be rich? Are not the hues upon their cheeks
as rich as the sunset?
DOES NOT THE CHERRY
"dab on" the scarlet and the carmine direct from the gorgeous sun
himself? Age marvels at the happiness of youth. The sombre lessons of
the world have left their marks on the mind of the one; the other has
everything to learn. It would seem as though its residence had been (as
the poet has written so beautifully at the head of the chapter) in some
Paradise, whence, it issued to this earth, "trailing clouds of glory" as
it came. Age has suffered from the heats and dust of the previous day,
and sees in the blood-red "copper sun," only the indication of another
march of weariness and thirst.
YOUTH BREATHES THE DEWY AIR,
and beholds only the roseate tints of the sunrise.
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