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Uppingham by the Sea - a Narrative of the Year at Borth by John Huntley Skrine
page 86 of 95 (90%)
reluctance to exchange these fair things for the bounded views and less
unstinted beauties of our midland home: forgive us, as you may the more
readily because these thoughts, if any such lingered, were charmed away
on the instant by the sight of the real Uppingham. There lay the path to
our home, an avenue of triumphal arches soaring on pillars of greenery,
plumed with sheaves of banners, and enscrolled with such words as those
to whom they spoke will know how to read and remember. Our eyes could
follow through arch after arch the reaches of the gently-winding street,
alive from end to end with waving flags, green boughs, and fanciful
devices, till the quiet golden light in the western sky closed the vista,
and glorified with such a touch of its own mellow splendour the ranges of
brown gables and their floating banners, that for a moment we half
dreamed ourselves spectators of an historic pageant in some "dim, rich
city" of old-world renown. Only for a moment, though; for when we drop
our eyes to the street below us, those are our own townsfolk,
well-remembered faces, that throng every doorstep and fill the
overflowing pavements and swarming roadway. Yes, they are our own
townsfolk, and they are taking care to let us know it--such a welcome
they have made ready for us.

We hardly know how to describe with the epic dignity which it merits the
act by which they testified their joy at our return. We who saw the
sight were reminded of an incident in the AEneid--

Instar montis equum divina Palladis arte
Aedificant, sectaque intexunt abiete costas;
Votum pro reditu simulant.

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