through a mist of legend and tradition as 

 well as though a landscape of substantial 

 history. It has been called an epical river 

 because of the varied and sustained beauty 

 through which it sweeps from its mountain 

 sources to the sea ; but as 1 turn from it, 

 and the visible loveliness of its banks fades 

 from sight, I recall that other landscape of 

 history and legend through which it rolls, 

 and that, for the moment, is the reality, 

 and the other the shadow. A web of 

 human associations spreads itself over this 

 long valley like a richer atmosphere; the 

 fields are ripe with action and achievement ; 

 every projecting point has its story, every 

 gentle curve and quiet inlet its memory; 

 for many and many a decade of years life 

 has touched this silent stream and human- 

 ised its power and beauty until it has be- 

 come part of the vast human experience 

 wrought out between these mountain bound- 

 aries. As I think of these things and of 

 the world of dear past things which they 

 recall, another great river sweeps into the 

 vision of memory, but how different! 

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