第11部分(第3/7 頁)

lgar　vista；　in　the　dull　architecture；　which　I　had　never　known。　Deep　and　clear…marked　shadows；　such　as　one　only　sees　on　a　few　days　of　summer；　are　in　themselves　very　impressive；　and　bee　more　so　when　they　fall　upon　highways　devoid　of　folk。　I　remember　observing；　as　something　new；　the　shape　of　familiar　edifices；　of　spires；　monuments。　And　when　at　length　I　sat　down；　somewhere　on　the　Embankment；　it　was　rather　to　gaze　at　leisure　than　to　rest；　for　I　felt　no　weariness；　and　the　sun；　still　pouring　upon　me　its　noontide　radiance；　seemed　to　fill　my　veins　with　life。

That　sense　I　shall　never　know　again。　For　me　Nature　has　forts；　raptures；　but　no　more　invigoration。　The　sun　keeps　me　alive；　but　cannot；　as　in　the　old　days；　renew　my　being。　I　would　fain　learn　to　enjoy　without　reflecting。

My　walk　in　the　golden　hours　leads　me　to　a　great　horse…chestnut；　whose　root　offers　a　convenient　seat　in　the　shadow　of　its　foliage。　At　that　resting…place　I　have　no　wide　view　before　me；　but　what　I　see　is　enough……a　corner　of　waste　land；　over…flowered　with　poppies　and　charlock；　on　the　edge　of　a　field　of　corn。　The　brilliant　red　and　yellow　harmonize　with　the　glory　of　the　day。　Near　by；　too；　is　a　hedge　covered　with　great　white　blooms　of　the　bindweed。　My　eyes　do　not　soon　grow　weary。

A　little　plant　of　which　I　am　very　fond　is　the　rest…harrow。　When　the　sun　is　hot　upon　it；　the　flower　gives　forth　a　strangely　aromatic　scent；　very　delightful　to　me。　I　know　the　cause　of　this　peculiar　pleasure。　The　rest…harrow　sometimes　grows　in　sandy　ground　above　the　seashore。　In　my　childhood　I　have　many　a　time　lain　in　such　a　spot　under　the　glowing　sky；　and；　though　I　scarce　thought　of　it；　perceived　the　odour　of　the　little　rose…pink　flower　when　it　touched　my　face。　Now　I　have　but　to　smell　it；　and　those　hours　e　back　again。　I　see