Draw dials round the sheaves of corn,
Southward o’er inner tracts and far
Mysterious murmurs wander on—
The sound of waves that waste the bar,
The sandy bar by Alberton.”
The miniature rivers of the province have a character all their own; and while the land is not one of “mountain and torrent,” the rippling streams, wooded banks, and smiling verdure on every hand make walks, drives, and boating and canoeing pastimes of happiness and delight.
Numerous and picturesque brooks and mill-streams are quite noticeable features in journeying over the land; and artists, nature-lovers, and those who admire the beautiful will surely linger in many a tranquil and secluded spot on this happy “isle of the summer sea” to drink deep of scenes that are both choice and unique.
“And one still pool as slow the day declines,
Holds close the sunset’s glory in its deeps
In colors that no mortal tongue could name.”