| 216 | 217 | 218 | 219 | 220 |
| 1 | 100 | 200 | 300 | 400 |
|
deep valley, or gazed into the reflected Heaven of many a bright lake,
has been an interest greatly deepened by the thought that I have strayed
and gazed alone. What flippant Frenchman was it who said in allusion
to the well-known work of Zimmerman, that, "la solitude est une belle
chose; mais il faut quelqu'un pour vous dire que la solitude est une
belle chose?" The epigram cannot be gainsayed; but the necessity is a
thing that does not exist.
It was during one of my lonely journeyings, amid a far distant region
of mountain locked within mountain, and sad rivers and melancholy tarn
writhing or sleeping within all--that I chanced upon a certain rivulet
and island. I came upon them suddenly in the leafy June, and threw
myself upon the turf, beneath the branches of an unknown odorous shrub,
that I might doze as I contemplated the scene. I felt that thus only
should I look upon it--such was the character of phantasm which it wore.
On all sides--save to the west, where the sun was about sinking--arose
the verdant walls of the forest. The little river which turned sharply
in its course, and was thus immediately lost to sight, seemed to have
no exit from its prison, but to be absorbed by the deep green foliage of
the trees to the east--while in the opposite quarter (so it appeared to
me as I lay at length and glanced upward) there poured down noiselessly
and continuously into the valley, a rich golden and crimson waterfall
from the sunset fountains of the sky.
218
Page
Quick Jump
|