From Coblentz To Bingen Is The Glory Of The Rhine Scenery; Old
Castles Looking Down Over These Lovely Hills Covered
With vines and
cornfields; little villages nestled in between them; beautiful
spires of the prettiest churches you can imagine, looking
As if they
gathered the houses of the villages under their protecting wings.
Your soul, in short, is full of unutterable delight. It was a sort
of relief to laugh at the legend as we passed the little island on
which is the Mouse Tower, so named from the history of Bishop Hatto,
who it is said was eaten up by rats because he refused corn in a
time of scarcity to the starving poor, when he had a plenty rotting
in his storehouses.
When I was obliged at last to turn away from all these glories, the
words of Byron were in my heart: -
* * * * *
Adieu to thee again; a vain adieu;
There can be no farewell to scenes like thine.
The mind is colored by thy every hue,
And if reluctantly the eyes resign
Their cherished gaze upon thee, lovely Rhine,
'Tis with the thankful glance of parting praise.
More mighty spots may rise, more glaring shine,
But none unite in one attracting maze
The brilliant, fair, and soft, the glories of old days,
The negligently grand, the fruitful bloom
Of summer ripeness, the white cities' sheen,
The rolling stream, the precipice's gloom,
The forest's growth, and Gothic walls between
The wild rocks shaped as they had turrets been,
In mockery of man's art."
End of Travellers' Stories, by Eliza Lee Follen
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