The right-hand precipice, however,
has shelves affording sufficient hold for small trees, but nowhere does
it slant. If it were not for the white little stream falling gently
downward, and for the soft verdure upon either precipice, and even along
the very pathway of the cascade, it would be a very stern vista up that
gorge.
I shall not try to describe it any more. It has not been praised too
much, though it may have been praised amiss. I went thither again in the
morning, and climbed a good way up, through the midst of its rocky
descent, and I think I could have reached the top in this way. It is
remarkable that the bounds of the water, from one step of its broken
staircase to another, give an impression of softness and gentleness; but
there are black, turbulent pools among the great bowlders, where the
stream seems angry at the difficulties which it meets with. Looking
upward in the sunshine, I could see a rising mist, and I should not
wonder if a speck of rainbow were sometimes visible. I noticed a small
oak in the bed of the cascade, and there is a lighter vegetation
scattered about.
At noon we took a car for Portinscale, and drove back along the road to
Keswick, through which we passed, stopping to get a perhaps of letters at
the post-office, and reached Portinscale, which is a mile from Keswick.
After dinner we walked over a bridge, and through a green lane, to the
church where Southey is buried.
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