" After a nearer view of the
Alps from above Geneva he walked nine out of the twelve miles of the
descent: "My mind and heart were too full to sit still, and I found
some relief by exhausting my feelings through exercise." In the course
of time he reached Chamonix and went on a Sunday to the Montanvert
to see the Mer de Glace. There he wrote the following verses for the
visitors' book, which he considered, so he says, "suitable to the
day and scene":
Lord, while these wonders of thy hand I see,
My soul in holy reverence bends to thee.
These awful solitudes, this dread repose,
Yon pyramid sublime of spotless snows,
These spiry pinnacles, those smiling plains,
This sea where one eternal winter reigns,
These are thy works, and while on them I gaze
I hear a silent tongue that speaks thy praise.
Some poets always begin to get groggy about the knees after
running for seven or eight lines. Mr. Pontifex's last couplet gave him
a lot of trouble, and nearly every word has been erased and
rewritten once at least. In the visitors' book at the Montanvert,
however, he must have been obliged to commit himself definitely to one
reading or another.
Pages:
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36