human
Cumberland, he said. In 1847, already a well-known author, he was looking out for a house in the Lake District, and staying at Ambleside. But the March weather was dull, and he had many causes for depression. As he rowed on Windermere he pined for the light and colour of southern skies.
gpt
The lake, he wrote home,
human
Next year he revisited the lakes in spring, and wrote soon after about a wild place he had found:--
gpt
Ever since I passed Shap Fells, when a child, I have had an excessive love for this kind of desolation.