第17部分(第5/7 頁)

led　above　our　heads；　but　the　sea　about　us　was　blue　and　smooth。　I　sat　in　hot　sunshine；　feasting　my　eyes　on　the　beautiful　cliffs　and　valleys　of　the　thickly…wooded　shore。　Then　came　a　noble　sunset；　then　night　crept　gently　into　the　hollows　of　the　hills；　which　now　were　coloured　the　deepest；　richest　green。　A　little　lighthouse　began　to　shine。　In　the　perfect　calm　that　had　fallen；　I　heard　breakers　murmuring　softly　upon　the　beach。

At　sunrise　we　entered　the　port　of　Brindisi。

IV

The　characteristic　motive　of　English　poetry　is　love　of　nature；　especially　of　nature　as　seen　in　the　English　rural　landscape。　From　the　〃Cuckoo　Song〃　of　our　language　in　its　beginnings　to　the　perfect　loveliness　of　Tennyson's　best　verse；　this　note　is　ever　sounding。　It　is　persistent　even　amid　the　triumph　of　the　drama。　Take　away　from　Shakespeare　all　his　bits　of　natural　description；　all　his　casual　allusions　to　the　life　and　aspects　of　the　country；　and　what　a　loss　were　there！　The　reign　of　the　iambic　couplet　confined；　but　could　not　suppress；　this　native　music；　Pope　notwithstanding；　there　came　the　〃Ode　to　Evening〃　and　that　〃Elegy〃　which；　unsurpassed　for　beauty　of　thought　and　nobility　of　utterance　in　all　the　treasury　of　our　lyrics；　remains　perhaps　the　most　essentially　English　poem　ever　written。

This　attribute　of　our　national　mind　availed　even　to　give　rise　to　an　English　school　of　painting。　It　came　late；　that　it　ever　came　at　all　is　remarkable　enough。　A　people　apparently　less　apt　for　that　kind　of　achievement　never　existed。　So　profound　is　the　English　joy　in　meadow　and　stream　and　hill；　that；　unsatisfied　at　last　with　vocal　expression；　it　took　up　the　brush；　the　pencil；　the　etching　tool；　and　created　a　new　form　of　art。　The　National　Gallery　represents　only　in　a　very　imperfect　way　the　richness　and　variet