Switzerland and SavoyDavid Bogue, 1852 - 343 sider |
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Aiguille Aiguilles Rouges Alpine Alps Andermatt arrive Arve ascent avalanche bank Basle Baths beautiful Berne Bernese bordered Buet built called canton cascade castle châlets Chamonix château church cloth coloured cross descend distance elevation excursion extremity fall feet foot forest francs Freiburg French gallery Geneva glacier gorge Gothard Grand Grindelwald guides hamlet height hill Hospice Hôtel houses Ilanz inhabitants inns Interlacken journey lake Lausanne Lauterbrunnen leads league leaving Leman Leuk lower Lucerne Martigny Meyringen miles Mont Blanc Monte Rosa Moudon mountain Oberland pass passport path Payerne peaks picturesque plain Pont ravine Rhine Rhône rise river road rock route Sallanches Samoëns Savoy scenery seen Servoz side Sixt slope snow steep stream summit Swiss Switzerland table d'hôte Taninge Thonon Thun torrent tourist town traveller traversed trees Valais valley Vaud Vevay village Villeneuve walk wooden bridge Zürich
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Side 115 - It is the hush of night, and all between Thy margin and the mountains, dusk, yet clear, Mellowed and mingling, yet distinctly seen, Save darken'd Jura, whose capt heights appear Precipitously steep ; and drawing near, There breathes a living fragrance from the shore, Of flowers yet fresh with childhood; on the ear Drops the light drip of the suspended oar, Or chirps the grasshopper one good-night carol more; LXXXVII.
Side 115 - The sky is changed ! — and such a change ! Oh night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder...
Side 115 - Though in their souls, which thus each other thwarted, Love was the very root of the fond rage Which blighted their life's bloom, and then departed : — Itself expired, but leaving them an age Of years all winters — war within themselves to wage.
Side 107 - It was on the day, or rather night, of the 27th of June, 1787, between the hours of eleven and twelve, that I wrote the last lines of the last page, in a summer-house in my garden. After laying down my pen I took several turns in a berceau, or covered walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains. The air was temperate, the sky was serene, the silver orb of the moon was reflected from the waters, and all nature was silent.
Side 115 - With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring. This quiet sail 'is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction ; once I loved Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring Sounds sweet as if a Sister's voice reproved, That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved.
Side 115 - Now, where the quick Rhone thus hath cleft his way, The mightiest of the storms hath ta'en his stand: For here, not one, but many, make their play, And fling their thunderbolts from hand to hand...
Side 139 - But in it there were three tall trees, And o'er it blew the mountain breeze, And by it there were waters flowing, And on it there were young flowers growing, Of gentle breath and hue.
Side 134 - Clarens ! sweet Clarens, birthplace of deep Love ! Thine air is the young breath of passionate thought ; Thy trees take root in Love ; the snows above The very Glaciers have his colours caught, And sun-set into rose-hues sees them wrought By rays which sleep there lovingly...
Side 137 - Chillon! thy prison is a holy place, And thy sad floor an altar — for 'twas trod, Until his very steps have left a trace Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod, By Bonnivard ! — May none those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God.
Side 115 - And this is in the night : — Most glorious night ! Thou wert not sent for slumber ! let me be A sharer in thy fierce and far delight, — A portion of the tempest and of thee ! How the lit lake shines, a phosphoric sea, And the big rain comes dancing to the earth ! And now again 'tis black, — and now, the glee Of the loud hills shakes with its mountain-mirth, As if they did rejoice o'er a young earthquake's birth.