"My home was built upon the slope of a hill,with a little orchard stretching down before it,and a garden rising behind.At a considerable distance beyond and beneath the orchard,a rivulet flowed through meadows and turned a mill;while,above the garden,the summit of the hill was crowned by a few gray rocks,from which a yew-tree grew,solitary and bare.Extending at each side of the orchard,toward the brook,two scattered patches of cottages lay nestled among their gardens;and beyond this streamlet and the little mill and bridge,another slight eminence arose,divided into green fields,tufted and bordered with copsewood,and crested by a ruined castle,contemporary,as was said,with the Conquest.I know not whether these things in truth made up a prospect of much beauty.Since I was eight years old,I have never seen them;but I well know that no landscape Ihave since beheld,no picture of Claude or Salvator,gave me half the impression of living,heartfelt,perfect beauty which fills my mind when I think of that green valley,that sparkling rivulet,that broken fortress of dark antiquity,and that hill with its aged yew and breezy summit,from which I have so often looked over the broad stretch of verdure beneath it,and the country-town,and church-tower,silent and white beyond.
第8章 SCHOOLS：LLANBLETHIANPARISLONDON(2)（2 / 3）