I was up the next morning be fore¹ the October sunrise, and away through the wild and thewoodland. The rising of the sun was noble in the cold and warmth of it peeping down thespread of light, he raised his shoulder heavily over the edge of grey mountain and waveringlength of upland. Beneath his gaze the dew-fogs dipped, and crept to crept to the hollowplaces; then stole away in line and column, holding skirts, and clinging subtly at thesheltering corners where rock hung over grassland², while the brave lines of the hills cameforth, one beyond other gliding³.

The woods arose in folds, like drapery of awakened⁴ mountains, stately with a depth of awe,and memory of the tempests. Autumn’s mellow⁵ hand was upon them, as they owned already,touched with gold and red and olive, and their joy towards the sun was less to a bridegroomthan a father.

Yet before the floating impress of the woods could clear it self, suddenly the gladsome lightleaped over hill and valley, casting amber⁶, blue, and purple, and a tint⁷ of rich red rose;according to the scene they lit on, and the curtain flung around; yet all alike dispellingfear and the cloven hoof⁸ of darkness, all on the wings of hope advancing, and proclaiming, “God is here!” then life and joy sprang reassured⁹ from every crouching¹⁰ hollow; every flower,and bud and bird had a fluttering sense of them; and all the flashing of God’s gaze mergedinto soft beneficence.

So, perhaps, shall break upon us that eternal morning, when crag and chasm¹¹ shall be no more,neither hill and valley, nor great unvintaged ocean; but all things shall arise, and shine inthe light of the Father’s countenance¹², because itself is risen.