The stag sprung up on Cheviot Fell,
Spread his broad nostril to the wind,
Listed before, aside, behind,
Then couch’d him down beside the hind,
And quaked among the mountain fern,
To hear that sound so dull and stern.”
Than the whole of the trial and doom of poor Constance, who “loved not wisely but too well,” in the second canto of Marmion, even Scott never wrote anything more solemn or terrible.
CHAPTER XXVI.
Harvest—Scythe and Sickle v. Reaping Machines—Potatoes—Garibaldi and Potatoes at Caprera—Fishing—Platessa Gemmatus, or Diamond Plaice—Mushrooms—The Poetry of Fairy Rings—Harvest-Home.