The Garden of Resurrection by E. Temple Thurston

Three days have run by, and only that I have had no word from Clarissa, / I have scarcely been conscious of their passing. Three days, and we / have come into a new month, a more wonderful month even than that / through which we have just passed; the most wonderful month in the / year, were it not that June, July, August, September and October all / follow after it.

I watched a lark this morning rise from a tuft of thick sea-grass, / such as grows out on the slopes of the cliffs. The whole sea was of / quicksilver, throwing back the bright light of a glorious sun. It / spread far out to the line of sky, and they met in that haze of heat / which makes the horizon so full of mystery. A mile out from shore / a mass of gulls were crooshting, filling the distance with their / hunger-cries as they flung themselves into the _mêlée_ fighting for / their food. I lay watching them, and even from that distance I could / see the black body of a cormorant in their midst, diving and diving / again, where the gulls could only feed upon the surface. He reminded me / of the people who eat in the London restaurants, who have five meals / a day; the people who are able to dive into their pockets and pay for / food they never want, while the match-sellers and the flower-sellers, / the crossing-sweepers and the beggars outside are whispering their / hunger cries like the gulls upon the surface.