Oh my gosh, so many new followers! That is exciting. :D Don’t worry, I haven’t disappeared! I’ve just kind of been busy with other projects, but I’m ready to start posting landmarks again! Thanks to those of you who have stuck with me even when I seemed to have gone AWOL. New posts coming up soon! :)
FIVE years have past; five summers, with the length Of five long winters! and again I hear These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs With a soft inland murmur. — Once again Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs, That on a wild secluded scene impress Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
‘I was born at Blunderstone, in Suffolk, or “thereby” as they say in Scotland. I was a posthumous child. My father’s eyes had closed upon the light of this world six months when mine opened on it. There is something strange to me even now, in the reflection that he never saw me; and something stranger yet is the shadowy remembrance that I have of my first childish associations with his white grave-stone in the churchyard, and the indefinable compassion I used to feel for it lying out alone there in the dark night, when our little parlour was warm and bright with fire and candle, and the doors of our house - were almost cruelly, it seemed to me sometimes - bolted and locked against it.’