Page:Journals of Dorothy Wordsworth (Macmillan, 1897) (IA cu31924104001478).pdf/58

 for a cottage, commanding two distinct views of the vale and of the lake, is among those rocks The quietness and still seclusion of the valley affected me even to producing the deepest melancholy. I forced myself from it. The wind rose before I went to bed

Tuesday Morning.—A fine mild rain Everything green and overflowing with life, and the streams making a perpetual song, with the thrushes, and all little birds, not forgetting the stone-chats. The post was not come in. I walked as far as Windermere, and met him there.

Saturday, May 24th.—Walked in the morning to Ambleside. I found a letter from Wm. and one from Mary Hutchinson. Wrote to William after dinner, worked in the garden, sate in the evening under the trees.

Sunday.— Read Macbeth in the morning; sate under the trees after dinner I wrote to my brother Christopher On my return found a letter from Coleridge and from Charles Lloyd, and three papers.

Monday, May 26th.— Wrote letters to J. H., Coleridge, Col. Ll., and W. I walked towards Rydale, and turned aside at my favourite field. The air and the lake were still. One cottage light in the vale, and so much of day left that I could distinguish objects, the woods, trees, and houses. Two or three different kinds of birds sang at intervals on the opposite shore. I sate till I could hardly drag myself away, I grew so sad. "When pleasant thoughts," etc.

Tuesday, 27th.—I walked to Ambleside with letters only a letter from Coleridge. I expected a letter from Wm. It was a sweet morning, the ashes in the valley nearly in full leaf, but still to be distinguished, quite bare on the higher ground