The Banks Of The Thames Are Everywhere Beautiful, Everywhere
Charming; How Delighted Was I With The Sight Of It When, Having Lost
It For A Short Time, I Suddenly And Unexpectedly Saw It Again With
All Its Beautiful Banks.
In the vale below, flocks were feeding;
and from the hills I heard the sweet chimes of distant bells.
The circumstance that renders these English prospects so
enchantingly beautiful, is a concurrence and union of the tout
ensemble. Everything coincides and conspires to render them fine,
moving pictures. It is impossible to name, or find a spot, on which
the eye would not delight to dwell. Any of the least beautiful of
any of these views that I have seen in England would, anywhere in
Germany, be deemed a paradise.
Reinforced, as it were, by this gratifying prospect, to support
fresh fatigues, I now walked a quick pace, both up and down the
hills, the five remaining miles to Henley, where I arrived about
four in the afternoon.
To the left, just before I got to Henley, on this side of the
Thames, I saw on a hill a fine park and a magnificent country seat,
at present occupied by General Conway.
Just before my entrance into Henley, I walked a little directly on
the banks of the Thames; and sat myself down in the high grass,
whilst opposite to me, on the other side, lay the park on the hill.
As I was a little tired, I fell asleep, and when I awoke the last
rays of the setting sun just shone upon me.
Invigorated by this sweet, though short, slumber, I walked on and
entered the town. Its appearance, however, indicated that it was
too fine a place for me, and so I determined to stop at an inn on
the road-side, such a one as the Vicar of Wakefield well calls, "the
resort of indigence and frugality."
The worst of it was, no one, even in these places of refuge, would
take me in. Yet, on this road, I met two farmers, the first of whom
I asked whether he thought I could get a night's lodging at a house
which I saw at a distance, by the road side. "Yes, sir, I daresay
you may," he replied. But he was mistaken: when I came there, I
was accosted with that same harsh salutation, which though, alas, no
longer quite new to me, was still unpleasing to my ears; "We have
got no beds; you can't stay here to-night." It was the same at the
other inn on the road; I was therefore obliged to determine to walk
on as far as Nettlebed, which was five miles farther, where I
arrived rather late in the evening, when it was indeed quite dark.
Everything seemed to be all alive in this little village; there was
a party of militia soldiers who were dancing, singing, and making
merry. Immediately on my entrance into the village, the first house
that I saw, lying on my left, was an inn, from which, as usual in
England, a large beam extended across the street to the opposite
house, from which hung dangling an astonishing large sign, with the
name of the proprietor.
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