some time in the orchard. . . . Letters from S. and M. H.
Sunday.—I sat with C. in the orchard all the morning. . . . We walked in Bainrigg's after tea. Saw the juniper—umbrella shaped. C. went to the Points,[1] joined us on White Moss.
Monday, 24th May.—A very hot morning. We were ready to go off with Coleridge, but foolishly sauntered, and Miss Taylor and Miss Stanley called. William and Coleridge and I went afterwards to the top of the Raise.
I had sent off a letter to Mary by C. I wrote again, and to C.
Tuesday, 25th.— . . . Papers and short note from C.; again no sleep for William.
******
Friday, 28th.— . . . William tired himself with hammering at a passage.
. . . We sate in the orchard. The sky cloudy, the air sweet and cool. The young bullfinches, in their party-coloured raiment, bustle about among the blossoms, and poise themselves like wire-dancers or tumblers, shaking the twigs and dashing off the blossoms.[2] There is yet one primrose in the orchard. The stitchwort is fading. The vetches are in abundance, blossoming and seeding. That pretty little wavy-looking dial-like yellow flower, the speedwell, and some others, whose names I do not yet know. The wild columbines are coming into beauty; some of the gowans fading. In the garden we have lilies, and many other flowers. The scarlet beans are up in crowds. It is now between eight and nine o'clock. It has rained sweetly for two hours and a half; the air is very mild. The heckberry blossoms are
- ↑ Mary Point and Sara Point; the "two heath-clad rocks" referred to in one of the "Poems on the Naming of Places."—Ed.
- ↑ Compare The Green Linnett, vol. ii. p. 367.—Ed.
