THE AUTHOR OF "DARTMOOR." 143 



Of glorious emerald, that seem to flow 



Around the gold-fringed reefs and rocks ; — must all 



Vanish, with thee, at the remorseless touch 



Of the swift-coming twilight ! 



They will fade, — 

 Those hues and forms enchanting. See behind 

 The billowy horizon once more sinks 

 The traveller of six thousand years. With him 

 Depart the glories of the west. The tints 

 Elysian change — the fiercely brilliant streaks 

 Of crimson disappear ; but o'er the hills 

 A flush of orange hovers, softening up 

 Into harmonious union with the blue 

 That comes a sweeping down ; for Twilight hastes 

 To dash all other colours from the sky 

 But this her favorite azure. Even now 

 The East displays its palely — beaming stars. 

 With the mild radiating moon; and thus 

 There is no end to all thy prodigies, 

 O Nature r' p.p. 88 89. 



What solemnity of feeling breathes through the poet's 

 apostrophe to the mountain tor. 



" Above me frowns the Tor. Majestic pile — 



Thus, through the dreary flight of ages, thus 



Triumphant o'er decay ! Art thou not old 



As the aged Sun, and did not his first beam 



Glance on thy new-formed forehead ; or art thou 



But born of the deluge, mighty one ? Thy birth 



Is blended with the unfathomable past. 



And shadows deep — too deep for mortal eye — 



Envelope it. With reverence I gaze 



Upon thine awful form.'' p. p. 21 22. 



One or two short extracts will show that he who could 

 depict so well the tranquil beauty of nature, also had 

 command over that powerful attribute of the Sublime 

 — Terror. 



*' Dartmoor thou wert to me, in childhood's hour, 



A wild and wondrous region. Day by day, 



Arose upon my youthful eye thy belt 



Of hills mysterious, shadowy, clasping all 



The green and cheerful landscape sweetly spread 



Around my home, and with a stern delight 



I gazed on thee. How often on the speech 



Of the half-savage peasant have I hung. 



To hear of rock-crowned heights, on which the cloud 



For ever rests; and wilds stupendous, swept 



