Now we will walk down through the meadows some half mile,
While all the land in flowery squares,
Beneath a broad and equal-blowing wind
Smells of the coming summer,'
to a scene which, as we may find its antitype anywhere for miles
round, we may boldly invent for ourselves.
A red brick mill (not new red brick, of course) shall hum for ever
below giant poplar-spires, which bend and shiver in the steady
breeze. On its lawn laburnums shall feather down like dropping wells
of gold, and from under them the stream shall hurry leaping and
laughing into the light, and spread at our feet into a broad bright
shallow, in which the kine are standing knee-deep already: a hint,
alas! that the day means heat. And there, to the initiated eye, is
another and a darker hint of glaring skies, perspiring limbs, and
empty creels. Small fish are dimpling in the central eddies: but
here, in six inches of water, on the very edge of the ford road,
great tails and back-fins are showing above the surface, and swirling
suddenly among the tufts of grass, sure sign that the large fish are
picking up a minnow-breakfast at the same time that they warm their
backs, and do not mean to look at a fly for many an hour to come.
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