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John Wilson. Recreations of Christopher North
Recreations of Christopher North
Table of Contents
VOLUME 1
CHRISTOPHER IN HIS SPORTING JACKET
FYTTE FIRST
CHRISTOPHER IN HIS SPORTING JACKET. FYTTE SECOND
CHRISTOPHER IN HIS SPORTING JACKET. FYTTE THIRD
TALE OF EXPIATION
MORNING MONOLOGUE
THE FIELD OF FLOWERS
COTTAGES
AN HOUR'S TALK ABOUT POETRY
INCH-CRUIN
A DAY AT WINDERMERE
THE MOORS
PROLOGUE
THE MOORS. FLIGHT FIRST.—GLEN-ETIVE
THE MOORS. FLIGHT SECOND—THE COVES OF CRUACHAN
THE MOORS. FLIGHT THIRD—STILL LIFE
THE MOORS. FLIGHT FOURTH—DOWN RIVER AND UP LOCH
HIGHLAND SNOW-STORM
THE HOLY CHILD
OUR PARISH
Volume 2
MAY-DAY
SACRED POETRY
CHAPTER I
SACRED POETRY. CHAPTER II
SACRED POETRY. CHAPTER III
FIFTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY
SACRED POETRY. CHAPTER IV
CHRISTOPHER IN HIS AVIARY
FIRST CANTICLE
CHRISTOPHER IN HIS AVIARY. SECOND CANTICLE
CHRISTOPHER IN HIS AVIARY. THIRD CANTICLE
CHRISTOPHER IN HIS AVIARY. FOURTH CANTICLE
DR KITCHINER
FIRST COURSE
DR KITCHINER. SECOND COURSE
DR KITCHINER. THIRD COURSE
DR KITCHINER. FOURTH COURSE
SOLILOQUY ON THE SEASONS
FIRST RHAPSODY
SOLILOQUY ON THE SEASONS. SECOND RHAPSODY
A FEW WORDS ON THOMSON
THE SNOWBALL BICKER OF PEDMOUNT
CHRISTMAS DREAMS
DIRGE
OUR WINTER QUARTERS
STROLL TO GRASSMERE
FIRST SAUNTER
STROLL TO GRASSMERE. SECOND SAUNTER
L'ENVOY
REMARKS
ON THE. SCENERY OF THE HIGHLANDS
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John Wilson
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To his hills that encircle the sea."
This may be called roughing it—slovenly—coarse—rude—artless—unscientific. But we say no—it is your only coursing. Gods! with what a bounding bosom the schoolboy salutes the dawning of the cool—clear—crisp, yes, crisp October morn (for there has been a slight frost, and the almost leafless hedgerows are all glittering with rime); and, little time lost at dress or breakfast, crams the luncheon into his pouch, and away to the Trysting-hill Farmhouse, which he fears the gamekeeper and his grews will have left ere he can run across the two long Scotch miles of moor between him and his joy! With step elastic, he feels flying along the sward as from a spring-board; like a roe, he clears the burns and bursts his way through the brakes; panting, not from breathlessness but anxiety, he lightly leaps the garden fence without a pole, and lo, the green jacket of one huntsman, the red jacket of another, on the plat before the door, and two or three tall raw-boned poachers—and there is mirth and music, fun and frolic, and the very soul of enterprise, adventure, and desperation, in that word; while tall and graceful stand the black, the brindled, and the yellow breed, with keen yet quiet eyes, prophetic of their destined prey, and though motionless now as stone statues of hounds at the feet of Meleager, soon to launch like lightning at the loved halloo!
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