The encircling woods and wide lawn-like meadows, the still ponds of
limpid water, the trim hedges, and the smooth winding roads;
undulating hill-tops, melting into the purple distance; laboring
me: i's cottages, gleaming white from the surrounding foliage;
solitary roadside inns with brown thatched roofs and moss-grown
stacks of lop-sided chimneys; noble mansions hiding behind
ancestral oaks; tiny Gothic edifices; Swiss and rustic lodges;
pillared gates surmounted by escutcheons hewn in stone, and
festooned with green wreaths of clustering ivy; village churches
and prim schoolhouses; every object in the fair English prospect is
steeped in a fuminous haze, as the twilight shadows steal slowly
upward from the dim recesses of shady woodland and winding lane,
and every outline of the landscape darkens against the deepening
crimson of the sky.
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