- Project Runeberg -  Letters written during a short residence in Sweden, Norway, and Denmark /
54

(1889) [MARC] Author: Mary Wollstonecraft With: Henry Morley
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from his car, illuminating the cliffs that hide him; the
heavens also, of a clear softened blue, throw her
forward, and the evening star appears a smaller moon to
the naked eye. The huge shadows of the rocks, fringed
with firs, concentrating the views without darkening
them, excited that tender melancholy which, sublimating
the imagination, exalts rather than depresses the mind.

My companions fell asleep — fortunately they did not
snore; and I contemplated, fearless of idle questions, a
night such as I had never before seen or felt, to charm
the senses, and calm the heart. The very air was balmy
as it freshened into morn, producing the most
voluptuous sensations. A vague pleasurable sentiment a
bsorbed me, as I opened my bosom to the embraces of
nature; and my soul rose to its Author, with the
chirping of the solitary birds, which began to feel,
rather than see, advancing day. I had leisure to mark
its progress. The grey morn, streaked with silvery
rays, ushered in the orient beams) how beautifully
varying into purple!), yet I was sorry to lose the soft
watery clouds which preceded them, exciting a kind of
expectation that made me almost afraid to breathe, lest
I should break the charm. I saw the sun — and sighed.

One of my companions, now awake, perceiving that
the postillion had mistaken the road, began to swear at
him, and roused the other two, who reluctantly shook
off sleep.

We had immediately to measure back our steps, and
did not reach Stronistad before five in the morning.

The wind had changed in the night, and my boat
was ready.

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