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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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Untitled Article
f Didn't know , but guessed it was pretty early in the morning-. ' A - Y XT 1 « 11 1 1 l & ankee will never be positive unless he is sure , —nor even then without absolute need . Traversing several cross roads among the wild scenery of the Hoosac mountains , I came , late in the afternoon , to the western
slope of these heights , which afforded me a fine view of the plain in which the town of Pittsfield is situated , and of the mountains surrounding it . A black thunder-cloud was hanging over the mountain tops , and masses of white fleecy vapour were swimming low in the valleys . Long streams of the most beautiful and vivid forked lightning burst from the cloud : a tremendous
clap of thunder shook the earth under my feet ,, and a deluge of raiii followed ,, which poured down like a cataract for a quarter of an hour , when the clouds broke and passed away , and the sun went down bathed in a flood of golden light . It was a glorious scene . The most magnificent thing in America is a sunset . An Italian sunset is not to be compared to it : there is a rich , golden ,
mellow light in the evening sky of Italy , but the clouds of glowing purple which hang like blood-red banners over half the heaven , when the American sun marches down the steep of day , have no equal anywhere on this side of the Atlantic . It is a pageant that no pencil can copy , no canvas reflect . The sky is
in a glow of brilliancy that tinges the whole air , and the departed orb seems to be rising again . You may see a pale face or a white page catch the tints of this reddening and fiery blush of the heaven ; the great sea of flame that lights up the atmosphere , throws upon all objects a roseate hue , like that of the last rays which fall upon the snowy summit of Mont Blanc .
Lenox , where I stopped for the night , is a model of neatness and rural beauty . This little town stands on the declivity of a hill surrounded by mountains , and the snowy whiteness of its buildings is strikingly set off by the dark foliage of the forests which clothe the mountain sides in all directions . A little valley of cultivation opens a charming prospect to the south . After enjoying this scene for a while , I retraced my steps to the north .
Saddle Mountain lifted its broad blue mass before me , towering above the mountains to the right and left : these hei ghts overlook a broad plain chequered with fields , orchards , meadows , and patches of woodland , with the spires of Pittsfield rising- in the midst , and a stream meandering through it . The prospect is enchanting . Pittsfield is very neatly built with wide and
regular streets . Further on , at the foot of Saddle Mountain , is Lanesborough , another cluster of neat buildings painted of a brilliant white , with red roofs . Nothing in the world looks so neat as a New England village . The road onward to Williamstown lies among mountains covered with a black and shaggy forest , whose steep sides now and then threaten to fall upon your head . A wreath of white cloud began to curl around the dark
Untitled Article
96 American Sketched .
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Citation
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Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), Feb. 2, 1835, page 96, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2642/page/16/
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