32 



of the sky at sunset ; we watch the wonderful transformations, as the 



sun lights up the woodlands, shadows the long lines of hills, and turns 



the 



" Waters resting in the embrace of the wide forest," 



into quiv^ering glowing quicksilver, instinct with life, and color and 



beauty — 



" A hundred hills their dusky backs upheaved 

 All over this still ocean ; and beyond 

 Far, far beyond, the solid vapour stretched 

 In headlands, tongues and promontory shapes," 



and all the fair land at our feet reminds us of the gardens of Armidas 

 of which Tasso sings, 



"Still lakes of silver, streams that murm'ring crept, 



Hills, on whose sloping brows the sunbeams slept ; 



Luxuriant trees, that various forms displayed, 



And valleys, grateful with refreshing shade ; 



Herbs, flow'rets, gay with many a gaudy dye. 



And wood, and arching grottos meet the eye." 



