ix Bindon Hill 243 



the hearth " arise to mingle with the growing 

 twilight : 



" Et jam summa procul villarum culmina fumant, 

 Majoresque cadunt altis de montibus umbrae." 



Even now it is hard to leave Bindon ; but he is 

 composing himself to sleep, with all the life that is 

 about him unless indeed those fairy spiders spin 

 their gossamer in the stillness of the night, to adorn 

 him in the morning's sunlight with a network of 

 intangible lace. 



