pasture-plain

Updated: May 5, 2025

Now the sun is up and banishing the hoar-frost from the veldt, and the great lonely pasture-plain we are travelling slowly through looks wonderfully pleasant. But I must go back. Yesterday afternoon things looked profoundly settled. I walked down to town with a lot of clothes, and left them to be washed by a nigger, and also left my watch to be mended.

Erskine Childers - In the Ranks of the C.I.V.

Oft on some evening, sunny, soft, and still, The Muse shall hand thee to the beech-grown hill, To spend in tea the cool, refreshful hour, Where nods in air the pensile, nest-like bower; Or where the Hermit hangs his straw-clad cell, Emerging gently from the leafy dell: Romantic spot! from whence in prospect lies Whate'er of landscape charms our feasting eyes; The pointed spire, the hall, the pasture-plain, The russet fallow, and the golden grain; The breezy lake that sheds a gleaming light, Till all the fading picture fails the sight.... Now climb the steep, drop now your eye below, Where round the verdurous village orchards blow; There, like a picture, lies my lowly seat, A rural, sheltered, unobserved retreat.

Joel Cook - England, Picturesque and Descriptive: A Reminiscence of Foreign Travel