"They lock and bar out, then, when they rest, do they, Pierre?" said Isabel.
"Yes, and you were thinking that does not bode well for the welcome I spoke of."
"Thou read'st all my soul; yes, I was thinking of that. But whither lead these long, narrow, dismal side-glooms we pass every now and then? What are they? They seem terribly still. I see scarce any body in them;—there's another, now. See how haggardly look its criss-cross, far-separate lamps.—What are these side-glooms, dear Pierre; whither lead they?"
"They are the thin tributaries, sweet Isabel, to the great Oronoco thoroughfare we are in; and like true tributaries, they come from the far-hidden places; from under dark beetling secrecies of mortar and stone; through the long marsh-grasses of villainy, and by many a transplanted bough-beam, where the wretched have hung."
https://archive.org/details/pierreorambigui00melvgoog/page/n324/mode/2up
SCENES BEYOND THE WESTERN BORDER (MAY 1853)
F. — "You are wonderfully given to personification; particularly of rivers. I suppose you were thinking of the desolate flatness, the choking sands, and the profitless end, the now fair and promising river comes to?"C. — "Exactly — and it led to melancholy thoughts. Well, these dreary steppes, where the mountain streams,— fresh from springs and snow, are the chief objects of interest, must account for it; they have at least the motion and music of life; — if they are not persons, there are none other, and I believe they answer me about as well."
-- Scenes Beyond the Western Border May 1853; and Scenes and Adventures in the Army page 405
https://archive.org/details/scenesadventures00cook/page/404/mode/2up
