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Clieveden
Woods
still
wore
their
dainty
dress
of
spring
,
and
rose
up
,
from
the
water
's
edge
,
in
one
long
harmony
of
blended
shades
of
fairy
green
.
In
its
unbroken
loveliness
this
is
,
perhaps
,
the
sweetest
stretch
of
all
the
river
,
and
lingeringly
we
slowly
drew
our
little
boat
away
from
its
deep
peace
.
We
pulled
up
in
the
backwater
,
just
below
Cookham
,
and
had
tea
;
and
,
when
we
were
through
the
lock
,
it
was
evening
.
A
stiffish
breeze
had
sprung
up
--
in
our
favour
,
for
a
wonder
;
for
,
as
a
rule
on
the
river
,
the
wind
is
always
dead
against
you
whatever
way
you
go
.
It
is
against
you
in
the
morning
,
when
you
start
for
a
day
's
trip
,
and
you
pull
a
long
distance
,
thinking
how
easy
it
will
be
to
come
back
with
the
sail
.
Then
,
after
tea
,
the
wind
veers
round
,
and
you
have
to
pull
hard
in
its
teeth
all
the
way
home
.
When
you
forget
to
take
the
sail
at
all
,
then
the
wind
is
consistently
in
your
favour
both
ways
.
But
there
!
this
world
is
only
a
probation
,
and
man
was
born
to
trouble
as
the
sparks
fly
upward
.
This
evening
,
however
,
they
had
evidently
made
a
mistake
,
and
had
put
the
wind
round
at
our
back
instead
of
in
our
face
.
We
kept
very
quiet
about
it
,
and
got
the
sail
up
quickly
before
they
found
it
out
,
and
then
we
spread
ourselves
about
the
boat
in
thoughtful
attitudes
,
and
the
sail
bellied
out
,
and
strained
,
and
grumbled
at
the
mast
,
and
the
boat
flew
.
I
steered
.
There
is
no
more
thrilling
sensation
I
know
of
than
sailing
.
It
comes
as
near
to
flying
as
man
has
got
to
yet
--
except
in
dreams
.
The
wings
of
the
rushing
wind
seem
to
be
bearing
you
onward
,
you
know
not
where
.
You
are
no
longer
the
slow
,
plodding
,
puny
thing
of
clay
,
creeping
tortuously
upon
the
ground
;
you
are
a
part
of
Nature
!
Your
heart
is
throbbing
against
hers
!
Her
glorious
arms
are
round
you
,
raising
you
up
against
her
heart
!
Your
spirit
is
at
one
with
hers
;
your
limbs
grow
light
!
The
voices
of
the
air
are
singing
to
you
.
The
earth
seems
far
away
and
little
;
and
the
clouds
,
so
close
above
your
head
,
are
brothers
,
and
you
stretch
your
arms
to
them
.
We
had
the
river
to
ourselves
,
except
that
,
far
in
the
distance
,
we
could
see
a
fishing-punt
,
moored
in
mid-stream
,
on
which
three
fishermen
sat
;
and
we
skimmed
over
the
water
,
and
passed
the
wooded
banks
,
and
no
one
spoke
.
I
was
steering
.
As
we
drew
nearer
,
we
could
see
that
the
three
men
fishing
seemed
old
and
solemn-looking
men
.
They
sat
on
three
chairs
in
the
punt
,
and
watched
intently
their
lines
.
And
the
red
sunset
threw
a
mystic
light
upon
the
waters
,
and
tinged
with
fire
the
towering
woods
,
and
made
a
golden
glory
of
the
piled-up
clouds
.
It
was
an
hour
of
deep
enchantment
,
of
ecstatic
hope
and
longing
.
The
little
sail
stood
out
against
the
purple
sky
,
the
gloaming
lay
around
us
,
wrapping
the
world
in
rainbow
shadows
;
and
,
behind
us
,
crept
the
night
.
