AUTUMN FROM BRAMBLE HILL. 141 



rolls on and away in autumnal beauty and 

 grandeur, glowing in colour under the play of 

 sunlight green and orange, red, purple and 

 gold; the lighter verdancy of open forest glades 

 contrasting here and there with the darker out- 

 lines of the woods, and these in turn giving every 

 shade of green dark where the shadows nestle 

 and golden where Autumn tinting has just com- 

 menced. The far horizon is bounded by 'the 

 island hills,' which, beyond the gleaming Solent, 

 loom up against the sky. But the sky itself and 

 the clouds which are floating under the eye of the 

 sun introduce elements of singular beauty in the 

 woody landscape ; for a floating mass of white 

 vapour slowly drifting across the sky brings a 

 change at every stage of its progress upon the 

 sylvan prospect now hiding, now revealing, now 

 darkening, now brightening forest glade and 

 woody hollow. And the breeze which moves the 

 clouds, whilst it gives life to colour and effect to 

 shadow, brings leafy music to the ear. 



So much for the mid-day splendour of the forest. 

 But later on we watch the forest sunset, and no- 

 where in sylvan England is the lustre of departing 



