of the frost, first cracking, then bursting asunder rock after rock, with clean-cut slashes.
The Mountain-Lover passed on his way up the next small peak and down again and up the next, disdaining today the cairns that silently suggested easier ways around. He wanted the roughness and the climbing and the highest points. Far up here the world once more seemed large enough to move in freely without irritating contact with other rasped souls.
He gained at last the topmost point in the long reach of the Dublin shoulder and sighing with satisfaction, he sank down on the clean bare ground against a rock to let his eyes feast their fill. He could see to all sides save to the southwest where rose the vast bulk of the mountain itself, shutting away that view. His eyes dwelt in profound content on point after point; far below the gay little lakes gleamed with their jewel points of light; white ribbons of roads wound their curving way about the hills, vanishing now
