"pointing up to heaven," and its gilded vane gleaming in the light--the
sturdy peasants with their instruments of healthy toil--the white-capped
matrons bleaching their newly-washed garments in the sun, and throwing
them like snow-patches on green slopes, or glossy garden shrubs--the
sun-browned village girls, resting idly on their round elbows at small
open casements, their faces in sweet keeping with the trellised
flowers:--all formed a combination of enchantments that would mock the
happiest imitative efforts of human art. But though the bare enumeration
of the details of this English picture, will, perhaps, awaken many dear
recollections in the reader's mind, I have omitted by far the most
interesting feature of the whole scene--_the rosy children, loitering
about the cottage gates, or tumbling gaily on the warm grass_.[005][006]

Two scraps of verse of a similar tendency shall follow this prose
description:--

AN ENGLISH LANDSCAPE.

I stood, upon an English hill,
And saw the far meandering rill,
A vein of liquid silver, run
Sparkling in the summer sun;
While adown that green hill's side,
And along the valley wide,
Sheep, like small clouds touched with light,
Or like little breakers bright,
Sprinkled o'er a smiling sea,
Seemed to float at liberty.

Scattered all around were seen,