marred by neither pedantry nor pretension. 

Washington Irving died on the 28th of November, 1859, at the close of a
lovely day of that Indian summer which is nowhere more full of a
melancholy charm than on the banks of the lower Hudson, and which was in
perfect accord with the ripe and peaceful close of his life.  He was
buried on a little elevation overlooking Sleepy Hollow and the river he
loved, amidst the scenes which his magic pen has made classic and his
sepulcher hallows. 

End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Washington Irving
by Charles Dudley Warner