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Article A VISIT TO THE ENGLISH LAKES. ← Page 6 of 6 Article THE DAY IS DYING. Page 1 of 1
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A Visit To The English Lakes.
trout . Another night in Ambleside , and then adieu to the lovely land of the poets . Wo steam away on the bosom of Windermere" this majestic lake , that like an arm Of ocean , or some Indian river vast In beauty floats amid its guardian hills . "
AVe sadly leai'e the lakes Ave have learned to love , and take a last glance at " the green banks of joyful Windermere ! " " with all her radiant isles Serenely floating on lier azure breast , Like stars in heaven . " The steamer arrives at Lake Sidewhere Ave bid farewell to Windermere Avith
, " her green recesses and her islands still , " perhaps never to behold them again . Rain has now set in , which is a sort of selfish comfort to us . We have a longweary day ' s travel , Avith nothing of interest worth mentioning till we arrive at Leeds . Here I bid adieu to my friend , and book for Malton via York , where " erect in the shade The solemn cathedral stands up like a warning . "
Arriving at Malton I have a stiff walk through the rain to a friend ' s , where I spend three enjoyable lazy clays , with every luxury a farmhouse can afford ; . and thus ends our memorable " Visit to the Lakes . "
Hr . CALVERT APPL-EBT
The Day Is Dying.
THE DAY IS DYING .
" Sweet day , so cool , so calm , so bright , The bridall of the earth and skie : The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die . "—George Herherc . THE sun sinks lowwith sudden glow
, , Ancl through the beams there comes a sighing—A wailing moan , like ivarning- tone That whispers , " Ah ! the day is dying !" You'd think there rolled a sea of gold Beneath the cliff on which we ' re lying ,
AVhich in the surge sings solemn dirge For that the beauteous clay is d y ing . Now shadows creep across the deep ; And , mingling with the sea-mews' crying , Along the shore the echo ' s roar Repeats , " Alas ! the day is dying !"
What hopes , what fears , what sighs , what tears , Has this clay seen whioh now is flying ! Its light is gone , ancl now alone—With dews ive weep—the day is dying . Kelso . W . FUEL A ~ : ;; . .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
A Visit To The English Lakes.
trout . Another night in Ambleside , and then adieu to the lovely land of the poets . Wo steam away on the bosom of Windermere" this majestic lake , that like an arm Of ocean , or some Indian river vast In beauty floats amid its guardian hills . "
AVe sadly leai'e the lakes Ave have learned to love , and take a last glance at " the green banks of joyful Windermere ! " " with all her radiant isles Serenely floating on lier azure breast , Like stars in heaven . " The steamer arrives at Lake Sidewhere Ave bid farewell to Windermere Avith
, " her green recesses and her islands still , " perhaps never to behold them again . Rain has now set in , which is a sort of selfish comfort to us . We have a longweary day ' s travel , Avith nothing of interest worth mentioning till we arrive at Leeds . Here I bid adieu to my friend , and book for Malton via York , where " erect in the shade The solemn cathedral stands up like a warning . "
Arriving at Malton I have a stiff walk through the rain to a friend ' s , where I spend three enjoyable lazy clays , with every luxury a farmhouse can afford ; . and thus ends our memorable " Visit to the Lakes . "
Hr . CALVERT APPL-EBT
The Day Is Dying.
THE DAY IS DYING .
" Sweet day , so cool , so calm , so bright , The bridall of the earth and skie : The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die . "—George Herherc . THE sun sinks lowwith sudden glow
, , Ancl through the beams there comes a sighing—A wailing moan , like ivarning- tone That whispers , " Ah ! the day is dying !" You'd think there rolled a sea of gold Beneath the cliff on which we ' re lying ,
AVhich in the surge sings solemn dirge For that the beauteous clay is d y ing . Now shadows creep across the deep ; And , mingling with the sea-mews' crying , Along the shore the echo ' s roar Repeats , " Alas ! the day is dying !"
What hopes , what fears , what sighs , what tears , Has this clay seen whioh now is flying ! Its light is gone , ancl now alone—With dews ive weep—the day is dying . Kelso . W . FUEL A ~ : ;; . .