96 RAMBLES OF A <DO MINIS 



mountains, turns the stubble-fields to sheets of gold, 

 gleams on the level lake where half a hundred craft are 

 floating on a silver sea, glances on the bright scales of 

 fish that glitter in the nets, touches the white foam of 

 leaping torrents, one might dream that wave and wind 

 should never vex them more. The bright unclouded 

 mountain looking down 



" sees the ocean to its bosom clasp 



The rocks and sea-sand with the kiss of peace." 



