Then we went down to Derwentwater. It was a warm and clear twilight.
Between the dark green lines of the hedges we met maidens in white, with
scarlet opera cloaks, coming home through the narrow lane. Then we got
into the open, and found the shores of the silver lake, and got into a
boat and sailed out upon the still waters, so that we could face the
wonders of a brilliant sunset.
But all that glow of red and yellow in the north-west was as nothing to
the strange gradations of colour that appeared along the splendid range
of mountain-peaks beyond the lake. From the remote north round to the
south-east they stretched like a mighty wall; and whereas, near the gold
and crimson of the sunset they were of a warm, roseate, and
half-transparent purple, as they came along into the darker regions of
the twilight they grew more and more cold in hue and harsh in outline.
Up there in the north they had caught the magic colors, so that they
themselves seemed but light clouds of beautiful vapor; but, as the eye
followed the line of twisted and mighty shapes, the rose color deepened
into purple, the purple grew darker and more dark, and greens and blues
began to appear over the wooded islands and shores of Derwentwater.
Finally, away down there in the south, there was a lowering sky, into
which rose wild masses of slate-colored mountains, and in the
threatening and yet clear darkness that reigned among these solitudes we
could see but one small tuft of white cloud that clung coldly to the
gloomy summit of Glaramara.
That strange darkness in the south boded rain; and, as if in
anticipation of the wet, the fires of the sunset went down, and a gray
twilight fell over the land. As we walked home between the tall hedges,
there was a chill dampness in the air; and we seemed to know that we had
at last bade good-bye to the beautiful weather that had lit up for us
the blue water and green shores of Grasmere.—_William Black._