As we cros into the hilly countrysi...

As we cros into the hilly countryside of this region, memory pushes up scattered fragments of those lines of the bard which, though read lengthy ago and in entirely different circumstances, be seen now to complete the view spreading disclosed before us. "The lines of the glacial moraine, the oval basins of the lakes"; "the road passes a farm in the valley on the lake"; "fishing nets are spread gone out to dry; smoke rises from a chimney; a canoe scrapes against the pebbly sand"; "the trail winds down between post-glacial distaffs and junipers toward alders and