XCbe Uoucb ot Unspiratfon 



ing. Tennyson often makes these aerial 

 sketches, as if with a single twirl of 

 the pen. He paints us a great thunder- 

 cloud that 



Topples round the dreary west, 



A looming bastion fringed with fire. 



In this instance the effect is as complete 

 and immediate as if it had not been pro- 

 duced by comparison; for instantly we 

 recall by direct retrospection the great 

 lunettes and curtains of the aerial forts we 

 watched when a child, and remember how 

 at regular intervals the whole structure 

 toppled strangely as the lightning filled it, 

 and the sun, already down, burned its edges. 

 From my winter place on the Gulf-coast 

 I have often seen immense dark cloud- 

 fortifications rise along the horizon, be- 

 tween the blue sky and the green-blue 

 water. Presently the moon would appear, 

 to heat the parapets to a silver glow, in- 

 tense as white flame from a blow-pipe. 



When Keats, in his pathetic thirst, 

 longed for a beaker of the warm South, 

 141 



