Night itself, aside from its starry glories, was thought of but to be feared for its brown horrors and melancholy shades. The conception of daylight as useful and safe was a part of classical good sense. The earliest poem in which we find the beauty and something of the spiritual power of night represented is by Lady Winchilsea. Later we find the characteristic sentimental melancholy of the poets involved in a tissue of moonlight and mystery, while the faint colors and pearly dews of the dawn, and the gentle sadness of evening shades, or in extreme cases, even midnight glooms, seem to be the only fit setting for struggling emotions and vague aspirations. There are also, as we shall see, throughout the romantic revival, not infrequent studies of the sky, especially of sunrise and sunset, from what we may call the artist’s point of view. But all this belongs to the new spirit and is a very evident break from classical traditions. Poetry in which the classical note is dominant shows the utmost coldness and barrenness in all that has to do with the beauty and significance of the sky whether by night or by day.[84] In contrast to the general turning away from the grand or the mysterious in Nature we find a certain friendly feeling toward the gentler forms of out-door life. Spring and summer, blue skies, gently sloping hills, flowery valleys, cool springs, and shady groves appear in the poetry with a frequency indicative of some real delight in them.[85] But real affection for Nature even in her idyllic forms, an affection the evident outgrowth of personal experience, is the exception rather than the rule. When such regard for Nature is apparent, however narrow in scope, it is rightly to be regarded as an indication of a new feeling toward the external world, for in general these so-called idyllic descriptions are to the last degree artificial and unreal. They show that what the poet really enjoyed was not so much Nature itself, as the creation of fanciful pictures of Nature, the flowing combination of attractive details into such scenes as he would like to find in the country in case he should go there. Garth’s description of the Fortunate Islands is typical. There No blasts e’er discompose the peaceful sky, The springs but murmur, and the winds but sigh. The tuneful swans on gliding rivers float And warbling dirges die on every note. Where Flora treads, her Zephyr garlands flings, And scatters odors from his purple wings; Whilst birds from woodbine bowers and jasmine groves Chant their glad nuptials and unenvy’d loves. Mild seasons, rising hills, and silent dales, Cool grottoes, silver brooks, and flowery vales, Groves filled with palmy shrubs, in pomp appear, And scent with gales of sweet the circling year.[86]