“The sun had set in rich magnificence: The west was a region of golden light, Inscrutable in lustre, involving The imagination in its ocean Of effulgence: while from its distant shores Of miraculous brightness, came floating, On mid air, light fleeces of gold. Slowly The silent moments stole a chill o’er this Enchantment, the bright wand’rers disappeared; The western paradise closed her gates; And gray twilight, sat on the mountain side.” The morning after the festival given for the birth-day, Mrs. Montgomery, partly from having taken cold, and partly from fatigue, felt far from well, and consequently remained in bed the entire of the day. Julia sat with her grandmother all the morning. After dinner, Lord L. was dining with Lord Borrowdale. Henry had quitted Lodore-House that morning, saying, that he was setting out to join the Euphrasia, which, it appeared by the papers, was shortly expected in the Sound. Julia, therefore, walked out quite alone, she directed her steps towards the desolate vale, where her mother had first found poor Edmund. She seated herself. Her eyes rested on the western hill. It was topped by a few scattered trees, the grouping and even the ramifications of which, were accurately traced out by the bright glow of the heavens behind them. The eastern side of the slope was in shadow, and the woods that clothed it hung to the very waters’ edge, while the lake at its foot, reflecting the crimson clouds above, appeared a sheet of fire. The dazzle of the sun’s immediate presence being removed, Amid the clouds, cloud-formed castles turreted with gold, and temples, sustained by pillars which seemed of fire, arose, spread, united, brightened, divided, and sunk again. Imagination could fancy them dissolving in the intensity of their own lustre. Where these had been, mimic vessels now appeared, of fleecy whiteness, sailing on the liquid gold. These melted next, and waves of clouds, rolling themselves together heap on heap, rose to mountains ranged across the west, and shutting out almost all its glories. Yet on their purple summits, there seemed to linger floating forms, still of |