Farther north a crag rises out of the stream, its upper surface covered with green clover of the most vivid freshness.

Not only all night, but all day, has the dew lain upon its purity.

With my eye attaining the uppermost margin, where the waters shoot over, I look away into the western sky, and discern there (what you least expect) a cow chewing her cud with admirable composure, and higher up several sheep and lambs browsing celestial buds.

They stand on the eminence that forms the background of my present view.

The illusion is extremely picturesque,-- such as Allston himself would despair of producing.