to have been ingeniously set aside out of the common road, though not completely isolated. It is a kind of bird's-nest upon the rugged bosom of the mountain. Interlaced around it with care are all species of thickly growing shrubs and vines. Its front windows have a splendid prospect over the deeply scooped vale of Rydal Water and Grasmere, and the mountains beyond. It is a very plain and almost rough dwelling externally, though with a peerless site." Higher up the hill is Rydal Hall, the seat of the De Flemings, in the midst of a fine park with many grand old trees. The celebrated Rydal Falls are at the back of the hall. There are two falls, nearly half a mile apart, the lower one (p. 36) being the more beautiful. Seen through a window of the old summer-house hard by, it appears like a picture set in a frame.

"A short way on from Rydal Mere, and strung to it by a silver streamlet, is the heart of all the lakes, Grasmere, which is somewhat larger than its sister mere. As the road creeping around under Nab Scar passes the middle part of the lake, it runs near the Wishing-gate (p. 151) sung by Wordsworth in those tripping verses with such solemn ending. Here one looks down upon one of the most lovely and softly peaceful scenes on earth, and yet with a certain sober grandeur about it quite impossible to describe."

A little further on we come to Town-end, a small group of houses, among which is the cottage that was the first home of Wordsworth in the district (p. 15) and to which he brought his young bride in 1802. We soon reach the village of Grasmere, which is at the head of the lake, four miles from Ambleside. The parish church of St. Oswald (p. 176) is a quaint little edifice, and adjoining it is the burying-ground with the modest tombstones of the poet, his sister, his wife and her sister (p. 16), his only daughter Dora, and her husband Edward Quillinan (p. 167). Wordsworth's is of black slate, and is the middle one in the group (p. 167). The marble tablet, shown on p. 34, is within the church, over the pew which he frequently occupied.

Allan Bank (p. 16) is on higher ground behind the village. After Wordsworth removed to the rectory (p. 16), it was for some time occupied by De Quincey.

Following the common track of tourists who have but a few days for the Lakes, we should keep on by the same road over the pass of Dunmail Raise (p. 135), the summit of which is 783 feet above the sea. A heap of stones at this point is said to mark the scene of a battle between Dunmail, King of Cumberland, and the Saxon Edmund, in 945. The former was defeated and slain, the eyes of his two sons were put out by

Poor Robin'

6 gay

With his red stalks upon a sunny day.'

And then of the terraces-one levelled for Miss Fenwick's use, and welcome to himself in aged years; and one [p. 9] ascending, and leading to the 'far terrace on the mountain's side, where the poet was wont to murmur his verses as they came. Within the house were disposed his simple treasures: the ancestral almery [p. 10], on which the names of unknown Wordsworths may be deciphered still; Sir George Beaumont's pictures,... and the cuckoo clock which brought vernal thoughts to cheer the sleepless bed of age, and which sounded its noonday summons when his spirit fled."

order of Edmund, and the territory was given to Malcolm, King of Scot-
land. The ascent of this pass was a favourite walk of Wordsworth's.*
The summit is two miles and a half from Grasmere, and Helvellyn (3118
feet) then comes in sight on the other side, with the lake of Thirlmere
(p. 115) at its base. Presently we reach the small inn and church of
Wythburn (p. 129)—
"a humble house of prayer,

Where Silence dwells, a maid immaculate.
Save when the Sabbath and the priest are there,
And some few hungry souls for manna wait."

The eastern shore of Thirlmeret is now skirted for nearly two miles. The lake itself is a mile longer, but only a quarter of a mile wide. At one point it is so narrow that a picturesque foot-bridge has been thrown across it.

The stream issuing from Thirlmere flows through the Vale of St. John (p. 123), the entrance to which soon appears on the right of the road, with Blencathara (see p. 231) at the farther end. As we go on we get a good view of the famous Castle Rock, the scene of Scott's Bridal of Triermain. As the poem tells us,

From some points of view the resemblance to a castle is very striking.

*Cf. p. 202 above, where he tells of climbing it at two o'clock in the morning to get the latest news from France.

† Myers (p. 51) remarks: "It is chiefly round two lines of road leading from Grasmere that Wordsworth's associations cluster-the route over Dunmail Raise, which led him to Keswick, to Coleridge and Southey at Greta Hall, and to other friends in that neighbourhood; and the route over Kirkstone, which led him to Ulleswater, and the friendly houses of Patterdale, Hallsteads, and Lowther Castle. The first of these two routes. skirts the lovely shore of Thirlmere-a lonely sheet of water, of exquisite irregularity of outline, and fringed with delicate verdure, which the Corporation of Manchester has lately bought to embank it into a reservoir. Dedecorum pretiosus emptor! This lake was a favourite haunt of Wordsworth's; and upon a rock on its margin, where he and Coleridge, coming from Keswick and Grasmere, would often meet, the two poets, with the other members of Wordsworth's loving household group, inscribed the initial letters of their names. To the monumental power' of this Rock of Names Wordsworth appeals, in lines written when the happy company who engraved them had already been severed by distance and death:

6 O thought of pain,
That would impair it or profane!

And fail not Thou, loved Rock, to keep
Thy charge when we are laid asleep,"

The rock may still be seen, but is to be submerged in the n

There is nothing more of special interest on the road to Keswick_until we reach a height called Castle Rigg, a mile from the town. Here we get a beautiful view of Derwentwater and Bassenthwaite lakes, with the valley of the Derwent between them, the two peaks of Skiddaw, and the Newland Mountains. Southey and Coleridge thought this the finest part of the Lake Region; and the poet Gray declared that, on leaving Keswick, when he turned round at this place to take a parting look at the landscape, he was so charmed that he "had almost a mind to go back again.'

Derwentwater (p. 57) is half a mile from Keswick. It is about three miles long, and a mile and a half wide, “expanding within an amphitheatre of mountains, rocky but not vast, broken into many fantastic shapes, peaked, splintered, impending, sometimes pyramidal, opening by narrow valleys to the view of rocks that rise immediately beyond, and are again everlooked by others."

Greta Hall, long the residence of Southey, is near Keswick, and he lies buried in the Crosthwaite churchyard, about three quarters of a mile

distant.

A favourite excursion from Keswick is by the east side of Derwentwater to Borrowdale, the valley through which the Derwent flows into the lake. The Lodore empties at nearly the same point, and a little way up the stream is the fall that Southey has immortalized; but only after heavy rains is it at all true to his description.

Eagle Crag (p. 93) is seen towering on the left as we go up the Borrowdale valley. Farther on the steep ascent of Borrowdale Hause begins. The pass is 1190 feet high, and commands admirable views of the valley we have left. On the other side Honister Crag (p. iv.), the grandest in the district, lifts an almost perpendicular wall of rock to the height of 1500 feet. The road descends rapidly into the Buttermere valley to the lake (p. 75) from which it derives its name. This is but a little more than a mile in length and half a mile in breadth, and hemmed in by some of the highest and steepest of the Cumbrian mountains. A small brook connects it with the larger lake of Crummock. The return to Keswick is usually made by a more direct but less beautiful road through the Newlands Valley.

Ulleswater (p. 145) is generally visited either from Ambleside or Keswick. The lake, which has been compared to the Swiss Lucerne, is nine miles long, with an extreme breadth of three quarters of a mile. It is zigzag in shape, forming three "reaches" of unequal length, closed in by mountains. It disputes the palm with Derwentwater for varied wildness and beauty. The Eamont (p. 228) is the outlet of Ulleswater.

The Langdale Pikes (p. 87) are a pair of mountains known respectively as Harrison Stickle (2401 feet) and Pike o' Stickle (2323 feet). Though neither so lofty nor so massive as many heights in the district, they are conspicuous from so many points that none are more familiar to the tourist. They are a little north of west from Ambleside, at a distance of about seven miles, and are oftenest visited from that town. Stickle Tarn (p. 256) lies at the base of Harrison Stickle.

TO THE CUCKOO.

O BLITHE new-comer! I have heard,
I hear thee and rejoice.
O cuckoo! shall I call thee bird,
Or but a wandering voice?

While I am lying on the grass
Thy twofold shout I hear;
From hill to hill it seems to pass,
At once far off and near,

Though babbling only to the vale
Of sunshine and of flowers,
Thou bringest unto me a tale
Of visionary hours.

Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring!
Even yet thou art to me

No bird, but an invisible thing,

A voice, a mystery;