MY FARM OF EDGEWOOD 



In this case, the slopes were many: a slope 

 eastward from the house-door to the banks of 

 a little brook that came sauntering leisurely 

 out from the wood, at the bottom of the glen ; 

 a slope from the house up to the hills piling 

 westward ; slopes on either margin of the glen ; 

 and above them, upon higher ground, pasture 

 lands dotted with stately trees; while a fat 

 meadow seemed to lie by the river bank, where 

 the little brook came sauntering in. There, 

 and thereabout, whisking their sides, stood the 

 cattle, as in a Flemish picture — as true, as still, 

 and just as real. There may be such cattle 

 whisking their tails, but they are none of mine. 



Then, — it seemed the home should be upon 

 an island, looking down and off to the sea, 

 where ships shortened sail, and bore up for the 

 channel buoys, which lay bobbing on the water. 

 There, the farm land ended in a pebbly beach, 

 on which should lie a great drift of sea-weed 

 after every southeaster. The wood was a 

 stately grove of oaks, taking the brunt of the 

 northwesters that roared around the house in 

 autumn, and making grateful lee for the 

 pigeons that dashed in and about the gables of 

 the barn. The brook seemed here a mere 

 creek, which at high water should be flooded 

 even with the banks of sedge; and when the 



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