MAY AND SEPTEMBER MOODS 



say, a warm, still, serene September moodwhy not a 

 small stone house in a high hollow of those downs, miles 

 removed from any other human habitation ? Just a stone 

 house dumped in the hollow pale grey, so as not to 

 offend the eye in that stretch of bleached 

 vastness, with a group of Thorns at the back 

 and nothing else, not even a path / only a 

 long way off, the vision of a white ribbon 

 of road, looping and twisting, running to 

 the sea. No flowers but the little wild, stiff, 

 aromatic things that push up through the 

 short turf. Overhead, one or two quite 

 round, white clouds, sailing along the 

 blue, caught by some high current that 

 hardly touches us below the kind of 

 cloud that you see in an old German 

 print. And all about, as far as the 

 gaze can encompass, nothing but the 

 dip and rise, the scoop and] billow of 

 the downs/ and the hollows, blue on 

 that wonderful sun-steeped, warm, 

 yet bleached expanse. And the 

 shadows of the clouds, running 

 along across it/ and perhaps a 

 lark's song, somewhere not too 

 close, beaten back to earth from 

 an unseen height of joy/ and 

 far, far away, the tinkle of a sheep-bell ! Would not 

 one's soul expand with the grand silence and!the glorious 

 wide spaces? One would not want to hear or behold 

 the sea, only to taste the salt of it in every breath. Now 



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