The Works of Edgar Allan Poe - Volume 2


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the vivid green of the grass in the valley was reflected more or less  
upon all objects from the curtain of vapor that still hung overhead,  
as if loth to take its total departure from a scene so enchantingly  
beautiful.  
The little vale into which I thus peered down from under the fog canopy  
could not have been more than four hundred yards long; while in breadth  
it varied from fifty to one hundred and fifty or perhaps two hundred.  
It was most narrow at its northern extremity, opening out as it tended  
southwardly, but with no very precise regularity. The widest portion  
was within eighty yards of the southern extreme. The slopes which  
encompassed the vale could not fairly be called hills, unless at their  
northern face. Here a precipitous ledge of granite arose to a height of  
some ninety feet; and, as I have mentioned, the valley at this point was  
not more than fifty feet wide; but as the visiter proceeded southwardly  
from the cliff, he found on his right hand and on his left, declivities  
at once less high, less precipitous, and less rocky. All, in a word,  
sloped and softened to the south; and yet the whole vale was engirdled  
by eminences, more or less high, except at two points. One of these I  
have already spoken of. It lay considerably to the north of west, and  
was where the setting sun made its way, as I have before described, into  
the amphitheatre, through a cleanly cut natural cleft in the granite  
embankment; this fissure might have been ten yards wide at its widest  
point, so far as the eye could trace it. It seemed to lead up, up like a  
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