Chapter 53 No.53

Dim vistas, sprinkled o'er with sun-flecked green,

Wound through the thickset trunks on every side,

And, toward the west, in fancy might be seen

A Gothic window in its blazing pride, 180

When the low sun, two arching elms between,

Lit up the leaves beyond, which, autumn-dyed

With lavish hues, would into splendor start,

Shaming