???-That same evening, without saying a word to any one,
for there was a curious admixture of outward lawlessness with the
perfect inward obedience of the girl, she set out for Clippenstrae, on
the opposite bank of the Wan Water. It was a gorgeous evening. The sun
was going down in purple and crimson, divided by such bars of gold as
never grew in the mines of Ophir. A faint rosy mist hung its veil over
the hills about the sunset; and a torrent of red light streamed down
the westward road by which she went. The air was soft, and the light
sobered with a sense of the coming twilight. It was such an evening as
we have, done into English, in the ninth Evening Voluntary of
Wordsworth. And Annie felt it such. Thank God, is does not need a
poetic education to feel such things. It needs a poetic education to
_say_ such things so, that another, not seeing, yet shall see; but that
such a child as Annie should not be able to feel them, would be the one
argument to destroy our belief in the genuineness of the poet's vision.
For if so, can the vision have come from Nature's self? Has it not
rather been evoked by the magic rod of the poet's will from his own
chambers of imagery?
CHAPTER LXXXII.
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