288 KXCUBSION TO GLASTONBUEY. 



was overcast and lowering, and ere we had reached the Highbridgc 

 Junction, gave evil augury for the future, and threatened to throw a 

 damp upon our proceedings, if not upon our enthusiasm. 



From the junction to Glastonbury the rail traverses a perfectly flat 

 alluvial tract, intersected by ditches and streams, and even now so little 

 elevated above 'the sea-level, that a permanent depression of a very few 

 feet would suffice to restore it to that condition of marsh and lake — "a 

 place for the bittern and pools of water" — such as it doubtless was "in 

 the days that were," ere yet Joseph of Arimathea had set up his staff 

 at Glastonbury, and had obtained from the British king a grant of the 

 site upon which the abbey was afterwards erected. We are told that it 

 was known to the Britons by the name of "Ynswytryn," or the "Glassy 

 Island," and as the place of interment of the renowned King Arthur, it 

 has still a hold upon our imaginations, which Tennyson's noble poem of 

 the "Morte d'Arthur," will never let die. 



Our train was slow, and as it passed leisurely along the sedgy banks 

 of the stream which flanked the course of the railroad, I had time to 

 notice many pretty plants, whose blossoms added the charm of colour to 

 the otherwise rather sombre landscape. Every hedge-row glowed with the 

 rosy spikes of the Rose-bay Willow-herb, (Epilobium angustifolium,) which 

 had evidently found a congenial habitat, and flourished in profusion. The 

 Flowering Rush, (Butomus umbellatus,) the Arrow-head, (Sagittaria 

 sagittifolia,) and the Yellow Water- Lily, (Nuphar lutea,) were amongst 

 the most conspicuous of that fair floral array which 



"In every place, 

 In every season, fresh or fair, 

 Open with perennial grace, 

 And blossom everywhere." 



The exigences of the rail necessarily limited the time allowed to the 

 archseologists for their inspection of the remains of the Abbey and the 

 exquisite chapel of St. Joseph, together with the Abbot's kitchen and the 

 Tithe Barn, the latter a noble fourteenth century structure, but this 

 scanty leisure was still further curtailed by the unpropitious aspect of the 

 'skyey influences,' which favouring no longer the happy 'valley of Avilion,' 

 where, as the poet sings, — 



"There falls not rain, nor hail, nor any snow," 



poured forth a repeated succession of storms of rain, which upon our arrival 

 at the 'Barn,' increased to a decided down-pour, and put to flight a whole 

 bevy of fair nymphs, who, with garments raised mid-leg high, flitted away 

 to shelter through the long wet grass in a manner remarkable to behold. 

 Here I bid farewell to the antiquaries, and took flight for Wells, where 

 the examination of the gem of a cathedral, and of the scarcely less inter- 



