A WARM, still morning, with a clear sky and stars. At first the hills
were almost black, but, as the dawn ascended, they became dark green, of
a peculiarly delicate tint which is never seen in the daytime. The
quietude is profound, although a voice from an unseen fishing-boat can
now and then be heard. How strange the landscape seems! It is not a
variation of the old landscape; it is a new world. The half-moon rides
high in the sky, and near her is Jupiter. A little way further to the
left is Venus, and still further down is Mercury, rare apparition, just
perceptible where the deep blue of the night is yielding to the green
which foretells the sun. The east grows lighter; the birds begin to stir
in the bushes, and the cry of a gull rises from the base of the cliff.
The sea becomes responsive, and in a moment is overspread with
continually changing colour, partly that of the heavens above it and
partly self-contributed. With what slow, majestic pomp is the day
preceded, as though there had been no day before it and no other would
follow it!