Mary Russell Mitford

Mary Russell Mitford

Summary

Portrait of Mary Russell Mitford Mary Russell Mitford The Ground-Ash

The day was glorious, and we had driven through lanes perfumed by the fresh green birch, with its bark silvery and many-tinted, and over commons where the very air was loaded with the heavy fragrance of the furze, an odour resembling in richness its golden blossoms, just as the scent of the birch is cool, refreshing, and penetrating, like the exquisite colour of its young leaves, until we reached the top of the hill, where, on one side, the enclosed wood, where the lilies grow, sank gradually, in an amphitheatre of natural terraces, to a piece of water at the bottom
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Mary Russell Mitford Mary Russell Mitford The Ground-Ash

Two of the most interesting of these flower-formed acquaintances, were my little friends Harry and Bessy Leigh.
Every year I go to the Everley woods to gather wild lilies of the valley. It is one of the delights that May—the charming, ay, and the merry month of May, which I love as fondly as ever that bright and joyous season was loved by our older poets—regularly brings in her train; one of those rational pleasures in which (and it is the great point of superiority over pleasures that are artificial and worldly) there is no disappointment.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Mary Russell Mitford Mary Russell Mitford The Ground-Ash

Upon remounting the hill, and advancing a little farther into the centre of the Moss, we saw the comfortable low-browed cottage, full of light and shadow, of juttings out, and corners and angles of every sort and description, with a garden stretching along the side, backed and sheltered by the tall impenetrable plantation, a wall of trees, against whose dark masses a wreath of light smoke was curling, whose fragrance seemed really to perfume the winter air.
Source: Gutenberg

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