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Herbert, Henry William, 1807-1858

"Warwick Woodlands Things as they Were There Twenty Years Ago"


Over this mass of many-colored foliage, the pale thin yellow light of
the new-risen sun was pouring down a flood of chaste illumination;
while, exhaled from the waters by his first beams, a silvery gauze-like
haze floated along the shores, not rising to the height of ten feet from
the limped surface, which lay unbroken by the smallest ripple,
undisturbed by the slightest splash of fish or insect, as still and
tranquil to the eye as though it had been one huge plate of beaten
burnished silver; with the tall cones of the gorgeous hills in all their
rich variety, in all their clear minuteness, reflected, summit downward,
palpable as their reality, in that most perfect mirror.
Such was the scene on which I gazed, as on the last day of our sojourn
in the Woodlands of fair Orange, I issued from the little cabin, under
the roof of which I had slept so dreamlessly and deep, after the fierce
excitement of our deer hunt, that while I was yet slumbering, all save
myself had risen, donned their accoutrements, and sallied forth, I knew
not whither, leaving me certainly alone, although as certainly not so
much to my glory.
From the other cottage, as I stood upon the threshold, I might hear the
voices of the females, busy at their culinary labors, the speedily
approaching term of which was obviously denoted by the rich savory
steams which tainted--not, I confess, unpleasantly--the fragrant morning
air.


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