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page 32
daily and hourly instances of these mysterious attachments.
Such clouds, cleaving to their stations, or lifting up
suddenly their glittering heads from behind rocky barriers,
or hurrying out of sight with speed of the sharpest edge -
will often tempt an inhabitant to congratulate himself on
belonging to a country of mists and clouds and storms, and
make him think of the blank sky of Egypt, and of the
cerulean vacancy of Italy, as an unanimated and even a sad
spectacle. The atmosphere, however, as in every country
subject to much rain, is frequently unfavourable to
landscape, especially when keen winds succeed the rain which
are apt to produce coldness, spottiness, and an unmeaning or
repulsive detail in the distance,; (sic) - a sunless frost,
under a canopy of leaden and shapeless clouds, is, as far as
it allows things to be seen, equally disagreeable.
It has been said that in human life there are moments worth
ages. In a more subdued tone of sympathy may we affirm, that
in the climate of England there are, for the lover of
nature, days which are worth whole months, - I might say -
even years. One of these favoured days sometimes occurs in
spring-time, when that soft air is breathing over the
blossoms and new-born verdure, which inspired Buchanan with
his beautiful Ode to the first of May; the air, which, in
the luxuriance of his fancy, he likens to that of the golden
age, - to that which gives motion to the funereal cypresses
on the bank of Lethe; - to the air
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