IN WORDSWORTH'S COUNTRY. 169 



comes to a head very slowly and gently. You reach 

 a wire fence well up on the top that divides some 

 sheep ranges, pass through a gate, and have a mile 

 yet to the highest ground in front of you ; but you 

 could traverse it in a buggy, it is so smooth and grassy. 

 The grass fails just before the summit is reached, and 

 the ground is covered with small fragments of the 

 decomposed rock. The view is impressive, and such 

 as one likes to sit down to and drink in slowly a 



" grand terraqueous spectacle, 

 From centre to circumference, unveil' d." 



The wind was moderate and not cold. Toward Ulles- 

 water the mountain drops down abruptly many hun- 

 dred feet, but its vast western slope appeared one 

 smooth, unbroken surface of grass. The following 

 jottings in my note-book, on the spot, preserve some 

 of the features of the scene : " All the northern 

 landscape lies in the sunlight as far as Carlisle, 



* A tumultuous waste of huge hill-tops ; ' 



not quite so severe and rugged as the Scotch moun- 

 tains, but the view more pleasing and more extensive 

 than the one I got from Ben Venue. The black 

 tarns at my feet, Keppel Cove Tarn one of them, 

 according to my map, how curious they look ! I 

 can just discern the figure of a man moving by the 

 marge of one of them. Away beyond Ulleswater is 

 a vast sweep of country flecked here and there by 

 slowly moving cloud shadows. To the northeast, in 

 places, the backs and sides of the mountains have a 



