^atterbak* 205 



man stop, for the scene is indeed a sublime one, and well worth 

 running the risk of being carried away by a * helm wind ' 

 in viewing it. It is undoubtedly the finest * station' — as 

 the old guide-books have it — for seeing Haweswater, and 

 even includes a peep at distant Saddleback. Moreover, 

 across the ink-black forms of Kidsty Pike and High Street, 

 in the extreme distance, marches the mountain storm to- 

 wards us, — a living wall of water. Before it, all is sun- 

 shine ; you perceive the gleaming fields devoured, one after 

 another, by the serried ranks of rain. Nearer and nearer 

 comes the noiseless host, until against the glasses of the 

 carriage the drops begin to patter, — skirmishers of the 

 great Array ; then, in a few moments, all is in darkness : 

 the earth itself has disappeared ; a second deluge drowns 

 both Land and Sky; then, thinner and thinner grows the 

 rain-curtain, and the unceasing volley gives place to a dropp- 

 ing fire : the rear-guard of the storm is passing by. Above 

 it strides the rainbow, — an arch of triumph for the conquer- 

 ing sun, who now once more reassumes his usurped throne, 

 and all the landscape decks itself in smiles to welcome his 

 return. Proud High Street doffs its crown, and does him 

 fealty ; the tribute of a thousand silver streams is paid to 

 him in a single instant ; the dark fells dance with brightness ; 

 and the erst frowning lake shines like a spoilt brunette, re- 

 conciled, for the nonce, to her lover. 



' It is no wonder that, living in a locality where the 

 glorious change from storm to sunshine is so common, that 

 Wordsworth should have described it with such eminent 

 success. Other poets, though possessing even a greater 

 command of fitting epithets, often give the impression of 

 having imagined such scenes ; but it is impossible to doubt 

 that Wordsworth was an eye-witness of them. What a 

 truthful picture is contained in those few opening lines of 



