Now after a tedious two miles of stiffish collarwork we emerged right on the top of the moors, and a goodly prospect was before us. It was a glorious bit of moorland—a glowing expanse of purple heather, bestrewn with weather-scarred rocks, all grey and lichen-stained; and here and there we noticed a brilliant yellow flower, whose name was unknown to us, and many a bright bit of gorse, whose 'deathless bloom' told out well amongst the green, and grey, and purple around. The peculiar odour of the gorse, too; how fragrant it seemed! wafted to us on the open air (though so sickly in a room)—an odour I can only liken to a mixed scent of cocoanut and pineapple. As we drove along we noticed many bilberry wires, with their wax-like leaves and wine-stained fruit—a fruit in tarts not to be despised.
A drive through England; or, A thousand miles of road travel
By James John Hissey