The polish'd leaves, and berries red,
Did rustling play;
And, like a passing thought, she fled
In light away.
He clambered to the highest rocks in the 'Tom Intak,' and put in the berries in such situations as Nature sometimes does, with such true and beautiful effect. He said, 'I like to do this for posterity.'"—ED.
—Voiceless the stream descends ...
With timid lapse ...
is a perfect description of this tiniest and gentlest of rills, flowing through the meadow-grass; while the "chasm of sky above," of which the Wanderer speaks, though an obvious exaggeration, is more appropriate to this spot than to any other in the vale.—ED.