Chapter LXXXIX

This Poem is like a picture by Watteau of a summer holiday in the garden or the woods.

He recalls the lawn of Somersby Rectory, with the trees[61] that shade it, and Hallam as being present on one of his repeated visits. He has come down from his law readings in the Temple,

"The dust and din and steam of town;"

and now, in a golden afternoon, sees

"The landscape winking thro' the heat"

as he lies and reads Dante, or Tasso, aloud to his companions; until later on, when some lady of the group would bring her harp, and fling

"A ballad to the brightening moon."

Or the family party may have strayed farther away, for a picnic in the woods; and are there discussing the respective merits of town and country.

They are described as returning home,

"Before the crimson-circled star[62]
Had fall'n into her father's grave,"

that is, before the planet Venus had sunk into the sea--"her father's grave."--_This planet is evolved from the Sun--La Place's theory._

The evening sounds are very charming--

"The milk that bubbled in the pail,
And buzzings of the honied hours,"

when the bees were gathering their last stores of the day. Tender recollections of the past!