Eamont

After talking to my cousin I went out for some air and was mesmerised watching autumn leaves flowing down a very full and fast flowing Eamont. Some were drawn into whirlpools and eddies and sucked down while others rushed onwards.

Wordsworth’s lines from the Duddon Sonnets flowed through as I watched ...

Still glides the Stream, and shall for ever glide;
The Form remains, the Function never dies;
While we, the brave, the mighty, and the wise,
We Men, who in our morn of youth defied
The elements, must vanish;—be it so!
Enough, if something from our hands have power
To live, and act, and serve the future hour;
And if, as toward the silent tomb we go,
Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower,
We feel that we are greater than we know.

For Elaine