noon
Nature , waking at the song of woodland birds to find herself naked , fashioned with flying fingers such a robe of young green and amber , hyacinth and pearl as only she can weave or wear . A scent of the season rose from multitudinous `` buds , and bells , and stars without a name '' ; while the little world of Devon , vale and forest , upland and heathery waste , rejoiced in the new life , as it rang and rippled with music and colour even to the granite thrones of the Moor . Down by the margin of Teign , where she murmured through a vale of wakening leaves and reflected asphodels bending above her brink , the valley was born again in a very pageant of golden green that dappled all the grey woods , clothed branch and bough anew , ran flower-footed over the meadow , hid nests of happy birds in every dell and dingle , and spread luxuriant life above the ruin of the year that was gone . A song of hope filled each fair noon ; no wasted energy , no unfulfilled intent as yet saddened the eye ; no stunted , ruined nursling of Nature yet spoke unsuccess ; no canker-bitten bud marked the cold finger of failure ; for in that first rush of life all the earthborn host had set forth , if not equal , at least together . The primroses twinkled true on downy coral stems and the stars of anemone , celandine , and daisy opened perfect . Countless consummate , lustrous things were leaping , mingling , and uncurling , aloft and below , in the mazes of the wood , at the margins of the water . Verdant spears and blades expanded ; fair fans opened and tendrils twined ; simultaneous showers of heart-shaped , arrow-shaped , flame-shaped foliage , all pure emerald and translucent beryl , made opulent outpouring of that new life which now pulsed through the Mother 's million veins .