Crossing the canal I pursued my course by romantic lanes till I found myself under the crags.

The rocky ridge here turns away to the north, having previously run from the east to the west.
After proceeding nearly a mile amidst very beautiful scenery, I came to a farm-yard where I saw several men engaged in repairing a building.

This farm-yard was in a very sequestered situation; a hill overhung it on the west, half-way up whose side stood a farm-house to which it probably pertained.

On the north-west was a most romantic hill covered with wood to the very top.

A wild valley led, I knew not whither, to the north between crags and the wood-covered hill.