noon
Perhaps he had tired himself of rhymes ; or perhaps the mechanism of verse-making had been replaced by that kind of sentiment , or that kind of revery , which is common to the temperaments of those who indulge in verse-making . But the loveliness of the scene before him had caught his eye , and fixed it into an intent gaze upon wooded landscapes stretching farther and farther to the range of hills on which the heaven seemed to rest . `` I should like to hear the rest of that German ballad , '' said a voice , abruptly . The wayfarer started , and , turning round , presented to Kenelm 's view a countenance in the ripest noon of manhood , with locks and beard of a deep rich auburn , bright blue eyes , and a wonderful nameless charm both of feature and expression , very cheerful , very frank , and not without a certain nobleness of character which seemed to exact respect . `` I beg your pardon for my interruption , '' said Kenelm , lifting his hat : `` but I overheard you reciting ; and though I suppose your verses are a translation from the German , I do n't remember anything like them in such popular German poets as I happen to have read . '' `` It is not a translation , sir , '' replied the itinerant . `` I was only trying to string together some ideas that came into my head this fine morning . ''