Page images
PDF
EPUB
[graphic][merged small][merged small]

And I have loved thee, ocean! and my joy
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be
Borne, like thy bubbles, onward: from a boy
I wantoned with thy breakers-they to me
Were a delight; and if the freshening sea
Made them a terror, 'twas a pleasing fear,
For I was as it were a child of thee,
And trusted to thy billows far and near,
And laid my hand upon thy mane-as I do here.'

BYRON.

OW well I remember that evening-my

H

last of happy careless childhood! I went

out into the little garden, and paced up and down its walks quite proudly, as I thought over my important mission of the next day; and resolved I would make good speed over the country part of my road, so that I might more leisurely traverse the streets, and gaze my fill on the shops. I determined to deliver my letter first, and then, of course, Aunt

Greenwood would offer me some cake and cowslip wine, and most likely give me a shilling too. Then, thought I, on my way home I can go up the High Street and look at all the shops; I can soon get home, for I'll walk, oh, so fast!

While planning all these enjoyments, I half unconsciously turned my steps towards the little rough fence, and stood looking over it and the sloping road that ran past the other side of our house down to the sea. The evening was so fine, and there seemed such a promise of a good tide, that I re-entered the side door of our house, which opened to the garden, and, going through it, turned out on the road and went down on the beach. It was, indeed, a lovely evening; and the tide was creeping in over the smooth sand as gently as the tiniest rivulet, with scarcely a ripple to wrinkle its glassy waters. twilight was closing softly down, like the fringed eyelid of a drowsy child, and the shades of evening settled on the quiet sea. So peaceful was the impression of the whole, so soft and soothingly calm was the entire sea, that it struck me then-heedless child as I was—and has remained firmly impressed on my memory ever since. I have now had a somewhat long life-have wandered on far distant shores, and in different climes; but the exquisite stillness of that delicious spring twilight comes back

The

to my remembrance more vividly than many later memories.

We dwellers on the eastern coast, beautiful as its general features are, have one great drawback—we have no sunsets on the sea. We behold the great orb, the 'light to lighten the day,' rise up from the silver waters, enfolded in all his delicate morning glories of pink and pale primrose, till he floods the bright blue unclouded sky with his radiance; but to the dwellers in the west is reserved that most impressive and solemn spectacle-his setting beyond the sea! Then may they stand on the margin of the great waters and behold him sinking slowly, clad in all his imperial purple and gold, lower and lower, till at length, somewhat suddenly, the last gleaming rim of the golden disc drops seemingly into the sea, and only the still splendid halo of his departed glory is left to fade slowly into the deep grey glooms of night. Since I have beheld the western sunset on the sea, I have cared but little in comparison for his uprising, praised as it has been by all poets and prose writers.

When I wished to look on the sunset, as I did now (not from any wish to see its beauty and majesty, but from the more common-place desire to judge what the weather would be next day), I had to ascend the tall chalk cliff which overtopped

our little garden, and which looked towards the west. From thence I could overlook the distant houses of the little town of Brackley, and distinguish quite plainly the tapering spire of the parish church, with the outlines of the tall hills looming a dark background, far, far away in the distance; and behind one high dark peak I saw the sun going down in a grand blaze of crimson sky. But, notwithstanding the old pastoral adage of 'red at night is the shepherd's delight,' or its more polished form of 'evening red and morning grey, certain signs of a fine day,' I was sufficiently weather-wise to augur no great good from the dark bars and clefts in the great heavy clouds that broke so abruptly across the ruddy splendour. Most seaside children acquire instinctively, like the birds, a certain rough knowledge of the weather, from its indices of varying clouds and winds; and although I had mixed with few or none of my own age, I had somehow noted the aspect of things quite enough to be able to prophesy pretty near to the truth. So I was not best pleased to think that the quiet ripples of the placid sea were most likely only the deceitful calm that so frequently precedes as well as follows a storm. We shall have a little rough weather to-morrow, thought I, and then mother is sure not to let me go; how provoking, when I have so few pleasures; and so, with

these unthankful words, which I often recalled sorrowfully afterwards, I turned my discontented steps homeward and entered our little cottage. I found my mother still sleeping, and so quietly that I did not awake her; so, after setting my few household duties all ready, in the hope of being able even yet to go, I crept softly up stairs, bearing all my mother needed for the night; and then, after one more anxious peep out of the window, which showed me a very cloudy and windy sky, retired to my little bed, made up at the foot of my mother's, and was soon asleep. So sound must have been my slumbers that I did not awake as early as usual, and was horrified, on rubbing my still closed eyelids open, to see my mother sitting up in bed, wrapped in her shawl, reading her Bible as she always did.

'You are a nice little early traveller, Thusie,' said my mother smilingly; 'the sun has long been rejoicing on his way, but your nightcap must have been drawn very far over your eyes.'

'Oh, mother!' said I, leaping eagerly out of bed and scrambling on my clothes, 'how you must have wanted your breakfast!'

'No, my dear,' replied my mother cheerfully, 'for I feel a great deal stronger and better to-day; but left the window curtains undrawn last night, so the bright sun awoke me early enough. It seems a

you

« PreviousContinue »