The strong-limbed sycamores with their broad expanding leaves.

The leaping streams, and the small waterfalls, white and foaming--the cherry blossom, the white farms, the dark yews which are the northern cypresses--and the tall upstanding firs and hollies, vigorously black against the delicate bareness of the fells, like some passionate self-assertive life....
'The "old" statesman B----.

His talk of the gentle democratic poet who used to live in the cottage before us.

"He wad never taeak wi the betther class o' foak--but he'd coom mony a time, an hae a crack wi my missus an me." 'The swearing ploughman that I watched this morning--driving his plough through old pastures and swearing at the horse--"Dang ye! Darned old hoss! Pull up, will ye--_pull_ up, dang ye!" 'Elterwater, and the soft grouping of the hills.

The blue lake, the woods in tints of pale green and pinkish brown, nestling into the fells, the copses white with wind flowers.