on the bough.
Wait, then, and thou
Soon wilt find rest."

Who does not sympathise, in the measure possible to him, with
Wordsworth's interpretations and premonitions?

"It is a beauteous Evening, calm and free,
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration; the broad sun
Is sinking down in its tranquillity;
The gentleness of heaven is on the sea."

And a less well-known passage:

"Thine is the tranquil hour, purpureal eve,
But long as godlike wish, or hope divine,
Informs my spirit, ne'er can I believe
That this magnificence is wholly thine!
--From worlds not quickened by the sun
A portion of the gift is won."

Yes, the nature-mystic might well be content to rest his case on
the influences of a calm at sea or a peaceful sunset. These will
maintain their power as long as there are human eyes to see and
human emotions to be stirred.

Not the least of the charms of still water is one which was
mentioned in the description of Turner's picture--the charm of
reflections. And here we discover a fresh vein of Nature
Mysticism. As Hawthorne says, there is "no fountain so small
but that heaven may be reflected in its bosom." Nay, as painters
well know, the very puddles in a country lane, or in a London
street, may be transfigured by thus reflecting lights and colours,
and become indispensable factors in a composition.

The phenomena of perfect reflection are often of exceptional
beauty. How perfect the effect of Wordsworth's lines:

"The swan on sweet St. Mary's Lake
Floats double, swan and shadow."

And, more generally, of another lake:

"The mere
Seems firm as solid crystal, breathless, clear,
And motionless; and, to the gazer's eye,
Deeper than ocean, in the immensity
Of its vague mountains and unreal sky."

So on the broad, slowly moving waters of peaty rivers, the
reflections of sky and landscape seem almost to exceed the
originals in lustre and delicate detail. Some of the Tasmanian
rivers possess this reflecting quality in an exceptional degree.

Nor are the phenomena of broken reflections inferior in beauty
and suggestion. Instead of motionless repetition of given detail,
there are flickering, sinuous, mazy windings and twistings of
colour, light, and shadow--a capricious hurrying from surface to
surface. Knowledge of optics cannot rob them of their marvel
and their glamour. And if such be their effec