The
far sweet chorus of life was tuned to a most delicate rhythm; not one of
those small mingled pipings of streams and the lazy air, of beasts, men;
birds, and bees, jarred out too harshly through the garment of sound
enwrapping the earth. It was noon--the still moment--but this hymn to
the sun, after his too long absence, never for a moment ceased to be
murmured. And the earth wore an under-robe of scent, delicious, very
finely woven of the young fern sap, heather buds; larch-trees not yet
odourless, gorse just going brown, drifted woodsmoke, and the breath
of hawthorn. Above Earth's twin vestments of sound and scent, the blue
enwrapping scarf of air, that wistful wide champaign, was spanned only
by the wings of Freedom.
After that long drink of the day, the riders mounted almost in silence
to the very top of the moor. There again they sat quite still on their
horses, examining the prospect. Far away to South and East lay the sea,
plainly visible. Two small groups of wild ponies were slowly grazing
towards each other on the hillside below.
Courtier said in a low voice:
"'Thus will I sit and sing, with love in my arms; watching our two herds
mingle together, and below us the far, divine, cerulean sea.'"
And, after another silence, looking steadily in Barbara's face, he
added:
"Lady Barbara, I am afraid this is the last time we shall be alone
together.
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