Читать книгу The Life of Sir William Quiller Orchardson - Hilda Orchardson Gray - Страница 23
Exhausted Nature seeks awhile to rest And calmly sleeps upon the earth’s cold breast, While creeping Winter with his icy hand Spreads his cold sheet in folds upon the land. Breathing his stillness o’er the lake’s pure face, He casts death’s shadow o’er life’s wonted place; Or wildly bounding from his northern lair Scatters his tempests through the howling air.
ОглавлениеA passing thought:
“And think it sport to hold a candle to the fluttering moth, as a child that thinks its little hand may catch the dancing flame and keep it as a toy; or is it not as fairies do, and laugh and clap their tiny hands.”
When he was about twenty, Orchardson went on a tour with his Father in the Highlands, which no doubt gave rise to the following:
