and beacon signals and fires, whether they perhaps are true or whether, dream-like, this light’s glad coming has beguiled our senses. Look! I see approaching from the shore a herald crowned with boughs of olive.The thirsty dust, consorting sister of the mudHis attire bears evidence of dust and mud. Cp. the description of Sir Walter Blunt, Stained with the variation of each soil Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours
(Henry IV.)., assures me that neither by pantomime nor by kindling a flame of mountain wood will he signal with smoke of fire. Either in plain words he will bid us to rejoice the more, or—but I have little love for the report opposite to this!May still further good be added to the good that has appeared!