[The last Cardew, of Boskenna, and the
Story of Nelly Wearne.]
No ditch is so deep, no wall is so high,
If two love each other, they'll meet by and bye;
No storm is so wild, and no night is so black,
If two wish to meet they will soon find a track.
From Klaus Groth's Song "Keen Graff is so brut."
Max Müller's Translation.
THERE are few places which afford such a variety of picturesque views as may be seen in and from the grounds of Boskenna ("dwelling-on-the-ridge.") The sylvan and rural are beheld, forming endless combinations with the grand, the wild, and the romantic. Glimpses of the boundless ocean are caught through overarching boughs in deep winding glens, where the brilliant plants of semi-tropical climes are seen growing in loving companionship with our more modest and sweet native shrubs, ferns, and flowers.
From the height called the Rockery, (surely there must be an old Cornish name,) the view embraces towering carns, distant hills, and headlands, including Castle Teryn and the Lizard Point; scenes of many wild legends and poetic traditions, of Danish invaders, of witches, saints and hermits.