And over and through it a cuckoo is crying and crying, first overhead, then afar, and gradually near and retreating again. He is soon gone, but the ears are long afterwards able to extract the spirit of the song, the exact interval36 of it, from among all the lasting37 sounds, until we hear it as clearly as before, out of the blue sky, out of the white cloud, out of the shining grey water. It is a word of power—cuckoo! The melting of the snow is faster than ever, and at the end of the day there is none left except in some hollows of the Downs on the slopes behind the topmost of the beeches that darkly fringe the[42] violet sky. In the misty38 shutting of the light there are a thousand songs laced by cuckoos’ cries and the first hooting39 of owls41, and the beeches have become merely straight lines of pearl in a mist of their own boughs. Below them, in the high woods, goes on the fall of the melting snow through the gloomy air, and the splash on the dead leaves. This gloom and monotonous42 sound make an exquisite43 cloister44, visited but not disturbed by the sound of the blackbirds singing in the mist of the vale underneath45. Slowly the mist has deepened from the woods to the vale and now the eye cannot see from tree to tree. Then the straight heavy rain descends46 upon the songs and the clatterings of blackbirds, and when they are silenced the moorhen’s watery47 hoot40 announces that the world belongs to the beasts and the rainy dark until to-morrow.
Beautiful upon the waters, beautiful upon the mountains, is the cuckoo’s song, and most rare over the snow. But of all places and hours I should choose the crags of Land’s End in a dawn of June; and let it be the end of that month and the wind be grey and cold, so that the ships stagger in the foam48 and crag-like waves as they catch the early light tenderly upon their sails. The cold beams, the high precipices49 yet full of shadow and of the giddy calling of daw and gull50, the black but white-lipped water and the blacker cormorant51 flying straight across it just over the foam, the sky golden yet still pallid52 and trembling from the dungeon53 of night—through it floats that beloved voice breaking, breaking, and the strong year at the summit of its career has begun to decline. The song is memorable55 and fair also when the drenched56[43] gardens toss and spread their petals57 in the grass. Many a one hears it who will not hear it again, and many that once expected it impatiently hears it no more because he is old and deaf or because his heart is closed. There is not a broad and perfect day of heat and wind and sunshine that is not haunted by that voice seeming to say the earth is hollow under our feet and the sky hollow over our heads.
There are whole nights when the cuckoo will not sleep, and the woods on either side of a road twenty miles long emit the cry of these conquerors58 under the full moon and the white stars of love. If you pause it will appear that it is not a silence that this song rules over; for what was a silence was full of sounds, as many sounds as there are leaves, sounds of creeping, gliding59, pattering, rustling60, slow wormlike continuous noises and sudden sounds. And strangely at length is the glorious day reared high upon the ruins of this night, of which the survivors61 slink away into the old forgotten roads, the dense62 woods, the chimneys of deserted63 houses.
It is a jolly note only when the bird is visible close at hand and the power of his throat is felt. Often two or three will answer one another, or for half a day will loiter about a coombe for the sake of an echo. It is one of the richest sounds in nature when two sing together, the second note of one being almost blended with the first of the other; and so they continue as if themselves entranced by the harmony, and the navvy leans upon his pick to listen.
On the day after the great melting of the snow the[44] white beam tree, at the edges of high woods and in the midst of the beeches, has its hour, when its thousands of large white buds point upward like a multitudinous candelabrum. For me the white beam is always associated with wayfaring64. Its white buds are the traveller’s joy of spring. The buds like blossoms or flames bewitch from afar off. They are always upon sloping ground and usually upon hillsides in the chalk land. In the autumn their leaves often shrivel before falling, and turn to a colour that looks like pink almond blossom by contrast with juniper and yew. When they have fallen, they are as much to be noticed. They lie commonly with their white undersides uppermost, and though rain soaks them and wind scatters65 them and they are trodden down, they preserve their whiteness until the winter or the following spring. It is a tree that belongs, above all others except the yew, to the Pilgrims’ Way, and it is impossible to forget these leaves lying white on the untouched wayside sward, among the dewy purple and crimson and gold of other leaves, sparkling in the sun and entering into all the thoughts and fancies and recollections that come to one who goes in solitude66 along that old road when the scent67 of the dying year is pungent68 as smoke and sweet as flowers.
KENT, SURREY AND HAMPSHIRE.
The beam tree is bright on the soft hills all through the days of rain following upon the snow and sun. There are days when earth is absorbed in her delights of growth and multiplication69. The rain is a veil which she wraps[45] about her that she may toil70 and sing low at her myriad71 divine domesticities untroubled. Delicate snails72 climb the young stalks of grass and flower, and their houses, pearly, chocolate, tawny73, pure or ringed or chequered, slide after them. The leaves, with their indescribable charm of infinitely74 varied75 division, of wild clematis, maple76, brier, hawthorn77, and many more, come forth78 into the rain which hangs on their drooping79 points and on the thorns. The lichen80 enjoys the enduring mist of the woods; the blackthorns are crusted and bearded with lichens82 of fleshy green-silver and ochre which grow even on the thorns themselves and round the new leaves and flowers. The birch is now an arrested shower of green, but not enough to hide the white limbs of the nymph in the midst of it. The beech trunk is now most exquisitely83 coloured: it is stained and spotted84 and blotched with grey and rough silver and yellow-green lichen, palest green mould, all the greens of moss85, and an elusive86 dappling and graining of greys, of neutral tints87 and almost blacks in the wood itself, still more diversified88 by the trickling89 rain and the changing night. The yew bark is plated and scaled and stained with greens and reds and greys, powdered with green mould, and polished in places to the colour of mahogany. Even the long-deserted thistly cornfields are dim purple with ground-ivy flowers and violets. The marsh90, the pasture, the wood, the hedge, has each its abundance of bloom and of scent; so, too, has the still water and the running water. But this is the perfect hour of the green of grass, so intense that it has an earthly light of its own in the sunless mist. It is best seen in meadows bounded on two or three sides by the[46] sheer dark edges of woods; for in that contrast the grass seems a new element, neither earth, nor water, nor sky—under our feet like the earth, gleaming and even as water, remote and celestial92 as the sky. And the voices of the green growing in the rain are innumerable. The very ground has now one voice of its own, the gurgle of its soaking hollow places.
HAMPSHIRE.
The fields where the green is now greenest, those bounded on two or more sides by woods, are of a kind not peculiar93 to Hampshire. They are usually on the greensand and lie in smooth, often winding94, hollows like the beds of rivers. Sometimes the banks of these beds are steep, and they are clothed in woods or in hedges of hornbeam, hazel, ash and thorn that have grown almost to woods. The meadows are green broad rivers running up between the dark trees that bathe their roots in primroses95. Sometimes there is a stream of water running down the midst of such a field, but as the stream, being a boundary, is often lined with bushes, the particular charm is lost. In the perfect examples there is the smoothness of the long hollowed meadow, the green, the river-like form, the look of being a court or cloister between the trees. Another kind of field of great charm is made by the convexity of the land rising up from one side or both of such a hollow meadow. These heaving fields, some of a regular domed97 shape, are favourites of the sunset light, in spring when they are grassy98, in August[47] when they bear corn: at noon when there are cattle grazing on the steep slope, their shadows are an exact inversion99 of themselves, as in water.
Out of the rain and mist spring has now risen full-grown, tender and lusty, fragrant100, many-coloured, many-voiced, fair to see, so that it is beyond a lover’s power to make even an inventory101 of her lovely ways. She is tall, she is fresh and bold, sweet in her motion and in her tranquillity102; and there is a soft down upon her lip as there is a silken edge to the young leaves of the beeches.
KENT.
Even the motor road is pleasant now when the nightingales sing out of the bluebell103 thickets104 under oak and sweet chestnut105 and hornbeam and hazel. Presently it crosses a common, too small ever to draw a crowd, a rough up-and-down expanse of gorse and thorn, pierced by grassy paths and surrounded by turf that is rushy and mounded by old ant heaps; and here, too, there are nightingales singing alone, the sweeter for the contrast between their tangled107 silent bowers108 and the sharp, straight white road. The common is typical of the lesser109 commons of the south. Crouch’s Croft in Sussex is another, in sight of the three dusk moorland breasts of Crowborough; gorse-grown, flat, possessing a pond, and walled by tall hollies110 in a hedge. Piet Down, close by, is a fellow to it—grass and gorse and irregular pine—a pond, too—rough, like a fragment of Ashdown or Woolmer, and bringing a wild sharp flavour into the mellow111 cultivated[48] land. Yet another is at Stone Street, very small, a few oaks up to their knees in blackthorn, gorse and bramble, with dusty edge and the hum of the telegraph wire for a song.
After the little common and long meadows, oak and ash, an old stone house with seven hundred years of history quiet within its walls and dark tiles—its cedar112 and yew and pine, its daisied grass, its dark water and swans—the four oast cones113 opposite, all taste more exquisitely. How goodly are the names hereabout!—Dinas Dene, the coombe in which the old house stands; Balk115 Shaw, Cream Crox, Dicky May’s Field, Ivy Hatch, Lady Lands, Lady’s Wood, Upper and Lower Robsacks, Obram Wood, Ruffats, Styant’s Mead91, the Shode, and, of course, a Starvecrow. Almost due west goes one of the best of footpaths117 past hop118 garden, corn, currant plantations119, rough copses, with glimpses of the immense Weald to the east, its trees massed like thirty miles of wood, having sky and cloud over its horizon as if over sea, and southward the wild ridge120 of Ashdown. Then the path enters tall woods of ash and oak, boulder-strewn among their anemone121 and primrose96, bluebell and dog’s mercury, and emerges in a steep lane at the top of which are five cowled oast houses among cherry blossom and under black firs. Beyond there is a hollow winding vale of meadow and corn, its sides clothed in oak, hazel and thorn, revealing primroses between. Woods shut it away from the road and from all houses but the farm above one end. A few cattle graze there, and the sun comes through the sloping woods and makes the grass golden or pale.
Then the North Downs come in sight, above a church[49] tower amid stateliest pale-foliaged beeches and vast undulations of meadow. They are suffused123 in late sunshine, their trees misty and massed, under a happy sky. Those beeches lie below the road, lining124 the edge of one long meadow. The opposite sun pours almost horizontal beams down upon the perfectly125 new leaves so as to give each one a yellow-green glow and to some a silver shimmer126 about the shadowy boles. For the moment the trees lose their anchor in the solid earth. They are floating, wavering, shimmering127, more a?rial and pure and wild than birds or any visible things, than aught except music and the fantasies of the brain. The mind takes flight and hovers128 among the leaves with whatsoever129 powers it has akin54 to dew and trembling lark’s song and rippling130 water; it is throbbed131 away not only above the ponderous132 earth but below the firmament133 in the middle world of footless fancies and half thoughts that drift hither and thither134 and know neither a heaven nor a home. It is a loss of a name and not of a belief that forbids us to say to-day that sprites flutter and tempt135 there among the new leaves of the beeches in the late May light.
Almost every group of oast houses here, seen either amongst autumn fruit or spring blossom, is equal in its effect to a temple, though different far, even when ivy-mantled as they occasionally are, from the grey towered or spired137 churches standing138 near. The low round brick tower of the oast house, surmounted139 by a tiled cone114 of about equal height, and that again crested140 with a white cowl and vane, is a pleasant form. There are groups of three which, in their age, mellow hue, roundness, and rustic141 dignity, have suggested the triple mother goddesses[50] of old religions who were depicted142 as matrons, carrying babes or fruit or flowers, to whom the peasant brought thank-offerings when sun and rain had been kind. Those at Kemsing, for example, stand worthily143 beside the perfect grey-shingled spire136, among elm and damson, against the bare cloudy Down. And there are many others near the Pilgrims’ Way of the same charm.
That road, in its winding course from Winchester to Canterbury, through Hampshire, Surrey and Kent, sums up all qualities of roads except those of the straight highway. It is a cart-way from farm to farm; or a footpath116 only, or a sheaf of half-a-dozen footpaths worn side by side; or, no longer needed except by the curious, it is buried under nettle144 and burdock and barricaded145 by thorns and traveller’s joy and bryony bines; it has been converted into a white country road for a few miles of its length, until an ascent146 over the Downs or a descent into the valley has to be made, and then once more it is left to footsteps upon grass and bird’s foot trefoil or to rude wheels over flints. Sometimes it is hidden among untended hazels or among chalk banks topped with beech and yew, and the kestrel plucks the chaffinch there undisturbed. Or it goes free and hedgeless like a long balcony half-way up the Downs, and unespied it beholds147 half the South Country between ash tree boles. Church and inn and farm and cottage and tramp’s fire it passes like a wandering wraith148 of road. Some one of the little gods of the earth has kept it safe—one of those little and less than omnipotent149 gods who, neglecting all but their own realms, enjoy the earth in narrow ways, delighting to make small things fair, such as a group of trees, a[51] single field, a pure pool of sedge and bright water, an arm of sea, a train of clouds, a road. I see their hands in many a by-way of space and moment of time. One of them assuredly harbours in a rude wet field I know of that lies neglected between two large estates: three acres at most of roughly sloping pasture, bounded above by the brambly edge of a wood and below by a wild stream. Here a company of meadow-sweet invades the grass, there willow150 herb tall with rosy summits of flowers, hoary151 lilac mint, dull golden fleabane, spiry152 coltstails. The snake creeps careless through these thickets of bloom. The sedge-warbler sings there. One old white horse is content with the field, summer and winter, and has made a plot of it silver with his hairs where he lies at night. The image of the god is in the grey riven willow that leans leafless over the stream like a peasant sculpture of old time. There is another of these godkins in a bare chalk hollow where the dead thistles stick out through a yard of snow and give strange thoughts of the sailless beautiful sea that once rippled153 over the Downs: one also in the smell of hay and mixen and cow’s breath at the first farm out of London where the country is unsoiled. There is one in many a worthless waste by the roadside, such as that between two roads that go almost parallel for a while—a long steep piece, only a few feet broad, impenetrably overgrown by blackthorn and blackberry, but unenclosed: and one in each of the wayside chalk-pits with overhanging beech roots above and bramble below. One, too, perhaps many, were abroad one August night on a high hillside when the hedge crickets sang high up in the dogwood and clematis like small but deafening[52] sewing machines, and the glowworms shone in the thyme, and the owl’s crying did not rend154 the breathless silence under the full moon, and in the confused moonlit chequer of the wood, where tree and shadow were equals, I walked on a grating of shadows with lights between as if from under the earth; the hill was given over to a light happiness through which I passed an unwilling155 but unfeared intruder.
In places these gods preside over some harmony of the earth with the works of men. There is one such upon the Pilgrims’ Way, where I join it, after passing the dark boughs and lightsome flowers of cherry orchards156, grass full of dandelions, a dark cluster of pines, elms in groups and cavalcades158, and wet willowy meadows that feed the Medway. Just at the approach there is a two-storied farm with dormers in the darkly mellowed159 roof, protected by sycamores and chestnuts160, and before it a weather-boarded barn with thatched roof, and then, but not at right angles, another with ochre tiles, and other outbuildings of old brick and tile, a waggon162 lodge163 of flint and thatch161 beside a pond, at the edge of a broad unhedged field where random164 oaks shadow the grass. Behind runs the Pilgrims’ Way, invisible but easily guessed under that line of white beam and yew, with here and there an ash up which the stout165 plaited stems of ivy are sculptured, for they seem of the same material as the tree, and both of stone. Under the yew and white beam the clematis clambers over dogwood and wayfaring trees. Corn grows up to the road and sometimes hops166; beyond, a league of orchard157 is a-froth round farmhouses167 or islands of oak; and east and west sweeps the crescent of the North Downs.
[53]
With the crescent goes the road, half-way up the sides of the hills but nearly always at the foot of the steepest slopes where the chalk-pits are carved white, like the concave of a scallop shell, out of the green turf. Luxuriant hedges bar the view except at gateways168 and stiles. At one place the upper hedge gives way to scattered169 thickets scrambling170 up the hill, with chalky ruts and rabbit workings between. Neither sheep nor crops cover the hill, nor yet is it common. Any one can possess it—for an hour. It is given up to the rabbits until Londoners can be persuaded to build houses on it. At intervals171 a road as old as the Way itself descends precipitously in a deep chalk groove172, overhung by yew and beech, or hornbeam, or oak, and white clouds drifting in a river of blue sky between the trees; and joins farther south the main road which winds, parallel with the Pilgrims’ Way and usually south of it, from Winchester, through Guildford, Dorking, Westerham, Maidstone, Ashford, and Canterbury to Dover Strait. Not only chalk-pits and deep roads hollow the hills. For miles there is a succession of small smooth coombes, some grown with white thorn, some grassy, above the road, alternating with corresponding smooth breasts of turf. Towers and spires173, but chiefly towers, lie beneath, and in the mile or so between one and the next there are red farms or, very rarely, a greater house at the end of a long wave of grass among trees. Above, the white full-bosomed clouds lean upon the green rampart of the hills and look across to the orchards, the woods beyond, the oaken Weald and its lesser ridges174 still farther, and then the South Downs and a dream of the south sea.
Rain falls, and in upright grey sheaves passes slowly[54] before the fresh beech leaves like ghosts in shadowy procession; and once again the white clouds roll over the tops of the trees, and the green is virginal, and out of the drip and glimmer175 of the miles of blissful country rises the blackbird’s song and the cuckoo’s shout. The rain seems not only to have brightened what is to be seen but the eye that sees and the mind that knows, and suddenly we are aware of all the joy in the grandeur176 and mastery of an oak’s balance, in those immobile clouds revealed on the farthest horizon shaped like the mountains which a child imagines, in the white candles of the beam tree, in the black-eyed bird sitting in her nest in the hawthorn with uplifted beak177, and in the myriad luxuriant variety of shape and texture178 and bright colour in the divided leaves of wood sanicle and moschatel and parsley and cranesbill, in the pure outline of twayblade and violet and garlic. Newly dressed in the crystal of the rain the landscape recalls the earlier spring; the flowers of white wood-sorrel, the pink and white anemone and cuckoo flower, the thick-clustered, long-stalked primroses and darker cowslips with their scentless179 sweetness pure as an infant’s breath; the solitary180 wild cherry trees flowering among still leafless beech; the blackbirds of twilight181 and the flower-faced owls; the pewits wheeling after dusk; the jonquil and daffodil and arabis and leopard’s bane of cottage gardens; the white clouds plunged182 in blue floating over the brown woods of the hills; the delicate thrushes with speckled breasts paler than their backs, motionless on dewy turf; and all the joys of life that come through the nostrils183 from the dark, not understood world which is unbolted for us by the delicate and savage184 fragrances[55] of leaf and flower and grass and clod, of the plumage of birds and fur of animals and breath and hair of women and children.
How can our thoughts, the movements of our bodies, our human kindnesses, ever fit themselves with this blithe185 world? Is it but vain remorse186 at what is lost, or is it not rather a token of what may yet be achieved, that makes these images blind us as does the sight of children dressed for a play, some solemn-thoughtful, some wholly gay, suddenly revealed to us in brilliant light after the night wind and rain?
But at morning twilight I see the moon low in the west like a broken and dinted shield of silver hanging long forgotten outside the tent of a great knight187 in a wood, and inside are the knight’s bones clean and white about his rusted81 sword. In the east the sun rises, a red-faced drover and a million sheep going before him silent over the blue downs of the dawn: and I am ill-content and must watch for a while the fraying188, changeful edges of the lesser clouds drift past and into the great white ones above, or hear rebellious189 music that puts for one brief hour into our hands the reins190 of the world that we may sit mightily191 behind the horses and drive to the goal of our dreams.
A footpath leads from the Pilgrims’ Way past the divine undulations and beech glades192 of a park—a broad piece of the earth that flows hither and thither in curves, sudden or slow but flawless and continuous, and everywhere clothed in a seamless garment of grass. The path crosses the white main road into a lesser one that traverses a common of beech and oak and birch. The leaves make[56] an unbroken roof over the common: except the roads there is not a path in it. For it is a small and narrow strip of but a few acres, without any open space, gloomy, much overgrown by thickets. Last year’s leaves lie undisturbed and of the colour of red deer under the silky green new foliage122 and round the huge mossy pedestals of beech and in caves behind the serpentine193 locked roots. No child’s shout is heard. No lover walks there. The motor-car hurries the undesirable194 through and down into the Weald. And so it is alone and for themselves that the beeches rise up in carven living stone and expand in a green heaven for the song of the woodwren, pouring out pearls like wine.
Southward, on either side of the steep road, the slope is, below the beeches, given to corn and hops; at the foot are all the oaks and pasture of the Weald, diversified by hop gardens on many of the slanting196 fields that break up its surface. Looking back from here the hills above are less finely modelled than the downs still farther behind us in the north. But they also have their shallow coombes, sometimes two tiers of them, and they are indented197 by deep, wide-mouthed bays. One of them begins in copses of oak and hazel and sallow, a little arable198, a farm, three oast cones, and a little steep orchard in a hollow of their own, which give way to hops, followed by grass and then a tortuous199 ploughland among the oaks and firs of the great woods that cover the more precipitous sides of the upper end of the bay. Exquisitely cultivated, this bay is yet a possession of cuckoo and nightingale, singing under the yellow-green and black-branched oaks and above the floor of bluebell and dark dog’s mercury.
[57]
Out of the coombe a deep lane ascends200 through beech, hazel and beam to another common of heather, and whinberry bathing the feet of scattered birch, and squat201 oak and pine, interrupted by yellow gravel202 pits.
Beyond is a little town and a low grey spire, neighboured by sycamores that stretch out horizontal boughs of broad leaves and new yellow-green flower tassels203 over long grass. Past the town—rapidly and continually resuming its sleep after the hooting of motor-cars—begins a wide and stately domain204. At its edge are cottages doddering with age, but trim and flowery, and assuredly wearing the livery of the ripe, grave house of brick that stands on the grassy ascent above them, among new-leaved beech masses and isolated205 thorns dreaming over their shadows. That grove206 of limes, fair and decorous, leading up to the house is the work of Nature and the squire207. His chestnut and pine plantations succeed. And now a pollard beech, bossy-rooted on a mound106 of moss and crumbling208 earth, its grotesque209 torso decorated as by childish hands with new leaves hanging among mighty210 boughs that are themselves a mansion211 for squirrel and jay and willow wren195 and many shadows, looks grimly down at the edge of a wood and asks for the wayfarer’s passport—has he lived well, does he love this world, is he bold and free and kind?—and if he have it not seals him with melancholy212 as he enters among the innumerable leaves of innumerable beeches beginning to respond to the straight, still, after-sunset rain, while the last cuckoos cry and the last footsteps and wheels of the world die away behind. The foliage has a pale, almost white, light of its own among the darkly dripping boughs, and[58] when that is gone the rain and leaf under a spongy grey sky have a myriad voices of contentedness213. Below, invisible in the dark rain but not unfelt, is the deep hollow land of the Weald. The owls whimper and mew and croon and hoot and shriek214 their triumphs.
SURREY.
In the morning a storm comes up on bellying215 blue clouds above the pale levels of young corn and round-topped trees black as night but gold at their crests216. The solid rain does away with all the hills, and shows only the solitary thorns at the edge of an oak wood, or a row of beeches above a hazel hedgerow and, beneath that, stars of stitchwort in the drenched grass. But a little while and the sky is emptied and in its infant blue there are white clouds with silver gloom in their folds; and the light falls upon round hills, yew and beech thick upon their humps, the coombes scalloped in their sides tenanted by oaks beneath. By a grassy chalk pit and clustering black yew, white beam and rampant217 clematis, is the Pilgrims’ Way. Once more the sky empties heavy and dark rain upon the bright trees so that they pant and quiver while they take it joyfully218 into their deep hearts. Before the eye has done with watching the dance and glitter of rain and the sway of branches, the blue is again clear and like a meadow sprinkled over with blossoming cherry trees.
The decent vale consists of square green fields and park-like slopes, dark pine and light beech: but beyond that the trees gather together in low ridge after ridge so[59] that the South Country seems a dense forest from east to west. On one side of the hill road is a common of level ash and oak woods, holly21 and thorn at their edges, and between them and the dust a grassy tract30, sometimes furzy; on the other, oaks and beeches sacred to the pheasant but exposing countless219 cuckoo flowers among the hazels of their underwood. Please trespass220. The English game preserve is a citadel221 of woodland charm, and however precious, it has only one or two defenders222 easily eluded223 and, when met, most courteous224 to all but children and not very well dressed women. The burglar’s must be a bewitching trade if we may judge by the pleasures of the trespasser’s unskilled labour.
In the middle of the wood is a four-went way, and the grassy or white roads lead where you please among tall beeches or broad, crisp-leaved shining thorns and brief open spaces given over to the mounds225 of ant and mole226, to gravel pits and heather. Is this the Pilgrims’ Way, in the valley now, a frail227 path chiefly through oak and hazel, sometimes over whin and whinberry and heather and sand, but looking up at the yews and beeches of the chalk hills? It passes a village pierced by straight clear waters—a woodland church—woods of the willow wren—and then, upon a promontory228, alone, within the greenest mead rippled up to its walls by but few graves, another church, dark, squat, small-windowed, old, and from its position above the world having the characters of church and beacon229 and fortress230, calling for all men’s reverence231. Up here in the rain it utters the pathos232 of the old roads behind, wiped out as if writ233 in water, or worn deep and then deserted and surviving only as tunnels under the hazels.[60] I wish they could always be as accessible as churches are, and not handed over to land-owners—like Sandsbury Lane near Petersfield—because straight new roads have taken their places for the purposes of tradesmen and carriage people, or boarded up like that discarded fragment, deep-sunken and overgrown, below Colman’s Hatch in Surrey. For centuries these roads seemed to hundreds so necessary, and men set out upon them at dawn with hope and followed after joy and were fain of their whiteness at evening: few turned this way or that out of them except into others as well worn (those who have turned aside for wantonness have left no trace at all), and most have been well content to see the same things as those who went before and as they themselves have seen a hundred times. And now they, as the sound of their feet and the echoes, are dead, and the roads are but pleasant folds in the grassy chalk. Stay, traveller, says the dark tower on the hill, and tread softly because your way is over men’s dreams; but not too long; and now descend to the west as fast as feet can carry you, and follow your own dream, and that also shall in course of time lie under men’s feet; for there is no going so sweet as upon the old dreams of men.
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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annihilating
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| v.（彻底）消灭( annihilate的现在分词 )；使无效；废止；彻底击溃 | |
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4
cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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5
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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6
yew
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| n.紫杉属树木 | |
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7
yews
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| n.紫杉( yew的名词复数 ) | |
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8
larch
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| n.落叶松 | |
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9
larches
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| n.落叶松（木材）( larch的名词复数 ) | |
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10
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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11
imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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12
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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13
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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14
streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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15
beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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16
beeches
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| n.山毛榉( beech的名词复数 )；山毛榉木材 | |
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17
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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18
rustles
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| n.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的名词复数 )v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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19
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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20
ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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21
holly
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| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
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22
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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23
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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24
ripples
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| 逐渐扩散的感觉( ripple的名词复数 ) | |
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25
trickles
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| n.细流( trickle的名词复数 )；稀稀疏疏缓慢来往的东西v.滴( trickle的第三人称单数 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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26
gushes
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| n.涌出，迸发( gush的名词复数 )v.喷，涌( gush的第三人称单数 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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27
gush
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| v.喷，涌；滔滔不绝(说话)；n.喷，涌流；迸发 | |
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28
ooze
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| n.软泥，渗出物；vi.渗出，泄漏；vt.慢慢渗出，流露 | |
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29
oozes
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的第三人称单数 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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30
tract
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| n.传单，小册子，大片(土地或森林) | |
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31
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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32
undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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33
imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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34
languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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35
puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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36
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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37
lasting
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| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
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38
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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39
hooting
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的现在分词 )； 倒好儿； 倒彩 | |
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40
hoot
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| n.鸟叫声，汽车的喇叭声； v.使汽车鸣喇叭 | |
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41
owls
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| n.猫头鹰( owl的名词复数 ) | |
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42
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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43
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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44
cloister
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| n.修道院；v.隐退，使与世隔绝 | |
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45
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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46
descends
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| v.下来( descend的第三人称单数 )；下去；下降；下斜 | |
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47
watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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48
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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49
precipices
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| n.悬崖，峭壁( precipice的名词复数 ) | |
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50
gull
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| n.鸥；受骗的人；v.欺诈 | |
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51
cormorant
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| n.鸬鹚，贪婪的人 | |
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52
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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53
dungeon
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| n.地牢，土牢 | |
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54
akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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55
memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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56
drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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57
petals
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| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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58
conquerors
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| 征服者，占领者( conqueror的名词复数 ) | |
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59
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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60
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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61
survivors
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| 幸存者，残存者，生还者( survivor的名词复数 ) | |
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62
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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63
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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64
wayfaring
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| adj.旅行的n.徒步旅行 | |
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65
scatters
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| v.（使）散开， （使）分散，驱散( scatter的第三人称单数 )；撒 | |
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66
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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67
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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68
pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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69
multiplication
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| n.增加，增多，倍增；增殖，繁殖；乘法 | |
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70
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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71
myriad
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| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
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72
snails
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| n.蜗牛；迟钝的人；蜗牛( snail的名词复数 ) | |
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73
tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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74
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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75
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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76
maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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77
hawthorn
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| 山楂 | |
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78
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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79
drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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80
lichen
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| n.地衣, 青苔 | |
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81
rusted
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| v.（使）生锈( rust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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82
lichens
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| n.地衣( lichen的名词复数 ) | |
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83
exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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84
spotted
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|
| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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85
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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86
elusive
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| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
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87
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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88
diversified
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|
| adj.多样化的，多种经营的v.使多样化，多样化( diversify的过去式和过去分词 )；进入新的商业领域 | |
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89
trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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90
marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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91
mead
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| n.蜂蜜酒 | |
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92
celestial
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| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
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93
peculiar
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|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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94
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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95
primroses
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| n.报春花( primrose的名词复数 )；淡黄色；追求享乐（招至恶果） | |
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96
primrose
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| n.樱草，最佳部分， | |
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97
domed
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|
| adj. 圆屋顶的, 半球形的, 拱曲的 动词dome的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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98
grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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99
inversion
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| n.反向，倒转，倒置 | |
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100
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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101
inventory
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| n.详细目录，存货清单 | |
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102
tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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103
bluebell
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| n.风铃草 | |
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104
thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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105
chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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106
mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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107
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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108
bowers
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| n.（女子的）卧室( bower的名词复数 )；船首锚；阴凉处；鞠躬的人 | |
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109
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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110
hollies
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| n.冬青（常绿灌木，叶尖而硬，有光泽，冬季结红色浆果）( holly的名词复数 )；（用作圣诞节饰物的）冬青树枝 | |
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111
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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112
cedar
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| n.雪松，香柏(木) | |
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113
cones
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| n.（人眼）圆锥细胞；圆锥体( cone的名词复数 )；球果；圆锥形东西；（盛冰淇淋的）锥形蛋卷筒 | |
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114
cone
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| n.圆锥体，圆锥形东西，球果 | |
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115
balk
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| n.大方木料；v.妨碍；不愿前进或从事某事 | |
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116
footpath
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| n.小路，人行道 | |
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117
footpaths
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| 人行小径，人行道( footpath的名词复数 ) | |
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118
hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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119
plantations
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| n.种植园，大农场( plantation的名词复数 ) | |
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120
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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121
anemone
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| n.海葵 | |
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122
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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123
suffused
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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124
lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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125
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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126
shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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127
shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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128
hovers
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| 鸟( hover的第三人称单数 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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129
whatsoever
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| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
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130
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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131
throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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132
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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133
firmament
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| n.苍穹；最高层 | |
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134
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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135
tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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136
spire
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| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
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137
spired
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| v.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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138
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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139
surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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140
crested
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| adj.有顶饰的，有纹章的，有冠毛的v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的过去式和过去分词 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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141
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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142
depicted
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| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
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143
worthily
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| 重要地，可敬地，正当地 | |
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144
nettle
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| n.荨麻；v.烦忧，激恼 | |
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145
barricaded
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| 设路障于，以障碍物阻塞( barricade的过去式和过去分词 )； 设路障[防御工事]保卫或固守 | |
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146
ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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147
beholds
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| v.看，注视( behold的第三人称单数 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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148
wraith
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| n.幽灵；骨瘦如柴的人 | |
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149
omnipotent
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| adj.全能的，万能的 | |
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150
willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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151
hoary
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| adj.古老的；鬓发斑白的 | |
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152
spiry
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| adj.尖端的，尖塔状的，螺旋状的 | |
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153
rippled
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| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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154
rend
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| vt.把…撕开，割裂；把…揪下来，强行夺取 | |
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155
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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156
orchards
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| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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157
orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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158
cavalcades
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| n.骑马队伍，车队( cavalcade的名词复数 ) | |
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159
mellowed
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| （使）成熟( mellow的过去式和过去分词 )； 使色彩更加柔和，使酒更加醇香 | |
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160
chestnuts
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| n.栗子( chestnut的名词复数 )；栗色；栗树；栗色马 | |
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161
thatch
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| vt.用茅草覆盖…的顶部；n.茅草(屋) | |
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162
waggon
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| n.运货马车，运货车；敞篷车箱 | |
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163
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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164
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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166
hops
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| 跳上[下]( hop的第三人称单数 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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167
farmhouses
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| n.农舍，农场的主要住房( farmhouse的名词复数 ) | |
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168
gateways
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| n.网关( gateway的名词复数 )；门径；方法；大门口 | |
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169
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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170
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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171
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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172
groove
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| n.沟，槽；凹线，（刻出的）线条，习惯 | |
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173
spires
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| n.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
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174
ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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175
glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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176
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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177
beak
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| n.鸟嘴，茶壶嘴，钩形鼻 | |
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178
texture
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| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
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179
scentless
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| adj.无气味的，遗臭已消失的 | |
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180
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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181
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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182
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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183
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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184
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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185
blithe
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| adj.快乐的，无忧无虑的 | |
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186
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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187
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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188
fraying
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| v.（使布、绳等）磨损，磨破( fray的现在分词 ) | |
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189
rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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190
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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191
mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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192
glades
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| n.林中空地( glade的名词复数 ) | |
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193
serpentine
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| adj.蜿蜒的，弯曲的 | |
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194
undesirable
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| adj.不受欢迎的，不良的，不合意的，讨厌的；n.不受欢迎的人，不良分子 | |
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195
wren
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| n.鹪鹩；英国皇家海军女子服务队成员 | |
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196
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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197
indented
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| adj.锯齿状的，高低不平的；缩进排版 | |
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198
arable
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| adj.可耕的，适合种植的 | |
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199
tortuous
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| adj.弯弯曲曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
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200
ascends
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的第三人称单数 ) | |
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201
squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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202
gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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203
tassels
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| n.穗( tassel的名词复数 )；流苏状物；（植物的）穗；玉蜀黍的穗状雄花v.抽穗， （玉米）长穗须( tassel的第三人称单数 )；使抽穗， （为了使作物茁壮生长）摘去穗状雄花；用流苏装饰 | |
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204
domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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205
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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206
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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207
squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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208
crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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209
grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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210
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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211
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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212
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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213
contentedness
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214
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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215
bellying
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| 鼓出部；鼓鼓囊囊 | |
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216
crests
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| v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的第三人称单数 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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217
rampant
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| adj.(植物)蔓生的；狂暴的，无约束的 | |
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218
joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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219
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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220
trespass
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| n./v.侵犯，闯入私人领地 | |
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221
citadel
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| n.城堡；堡垒；避难所 | |
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222
defenders
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| n.防御者( defender的名词复数 )；守卫者；保护者；辩护者 | |
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223
eluded
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| v.（尤指机敏地）避开( elude的过去式和过去分词 )；逃避；躲避；使达不到 | |
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224
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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225
mounds
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| 土堆，土丘( mound的名词复数 )； 一大堆 | |
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226
mole
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| n.胎块；痣；克分子 | |
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227
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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228
promontory
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| n.海角；岬 | |
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229
beacon
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| n.烽火，（警告用的）闪火灯，灯塔 | |
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230
fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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231
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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232
pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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233
writ
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| n.命令状，书面命令 | |
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