Circuitous immensities, where broods
Horror o'er everlasting solitudes,
Pyramidal, high-towering, castle-shaped,
By Art in her gigantic structures aped.
Advance! your eyes no moving objects greet-
A world unpeopled lies beneath your feet;
Interminable glaciers like a heap

of frozen waves by suns unwaken'd sleep,
Ice-seas, or wildering wastes of ice, the same
For ever-slippery as an after-name!

"Tis the sublime of desolation! far

Spread wreck of the elements' primæval war.
(How different from the landscapes seen of late,
Gayer than any Fancy might create!

Vineyards on vineyards rising in due grades,
Beautiful dells, groves prodigal of shades.)
There saw Saussure an universe deprived*
Of life, and felt that he alone survived!

"Le repos et le profond silence qui regnaient dans cette vaste étendue, agrandie encore par l'imagination, m'inspiraient une sorte de terreur ; il me semblait que j'avais survécu seul à l'univers, et que je voyais son cadavre étendu sous mes pieds."-Tentatives pour parvenir à la Cime de Mont Blanc. Euvres de SAUSSURE, tome iii., p. 478.

The whole description of the setting sun, as beheld by the author from an immense rock on one side of Mont Blanc, and of the subsequent closing in of night, a simple narration of phenomena, is very sublime.

There is a very fine passage, descriptive of the scenery of the North Cape, in Acerbi's Travels, that has some resemblance to the above description of Saussure-" There everything is solitary, everything is sterile, everything

Sails through mid air a solitary cloud,
Like to a spirit seeking its abode

Above the silent shadowy vale of death;
Such seems the rugged continent beneath.
In all his naked strength there, face to face,
Is Power beheld—there man forgets his race ;-
There only, for in forest depths may live
Some hermit whose rude hut may shelter give;
Some pilgrim's foot the arid sands may press
Of the inhospitable wilderness.

War-ravaged lands and cities desolate,
Uncultured plains, and wrecks of regal state,
Are still memorials of heroic crime,

The spoiler man, his gewgaws spoil'd by time.
But scarce accessible to chamois wild,
Coeval with past ages, rocks up-piled,
Girt with serpentine ice, distinct appal;
Of human action they no thoughts recal.

sad and despondent. The shadowy forest no longer adorns the brow of the mountain. The singing of the birds, which enlivened even the woods of Lapland, is no longer heard in this scene of desolation. The ruggedness of the dark grey rock is not covered by a single shrub. The only music is the hoarse murmuring of the waves ever and anon renewing their assaults on the huge masses that oppose them. The northern sun creeping at midnight, at the distance of five diameters, along the horizon, and the immeasurable ocean in apparent contact with the skies, form the grand outlines in the sublime picture presented to the astonished spectator. The incessant cares and pursuits of anxious mortals are recollected as a dream; the various forms and energies of animated nature are forgotten; the earth is contemplated only in its elements, and as constituting a part of the solar system." Acerbi's Travels, vol. ii., page 111.

Where wild goats leap from crag to crag on high, Turn we to lake-o'ershadowing mountains nigh, Or jagged or columnar, what a mass !

Frown others, lengthening in their liquid glass.

Towering o'er the magnificent array

Of clouds that stream along their sides mid-way,
Aërial steeps far spread their grandeur, zoned
By forests of luxuriant growth, pine-crowned.
'Tis thus on genius mighty, though untaught,
That Heaven bestows exhaustless wealth of thought.

Peaks, that the spirit of light seems to subdue
Into crystalline shapes of purple hue,
Sky-pointing peaks, on which, at distance kenn'd,
Stars seem like gods sublunar to descend,
Are types of noble souls, that even on earth
Look upward; gifts celestial show their worth;
Though firm, with light of charity yet graced,
They are above the storms of passion placed.

Far, far around, the Heaven-raised barriers, grand
As thoughts of freedom, guard Tell's native land;
Valleys of loveliest aspect they inclose,
Like Strength protecting Beauty in repose.
Glassed is the brow of Freedom in the clear
Lake, in the cataract her voice ye hear.

Sunbows o'erarching waterfalls, with prone
Rapidity like lightnings flashing down,
Shine forth, as fancy o'er the mighty streams
Of eloquence oft throws her lovely beams.
Châlets that garland-wise wild plants inwreath
Above look down on castles grey beneath.
Small as is human pride the time-worn tower
Seems among scenes that laugh at human power.
Vast rocks of similar form that round it press
There mock the feudal ruin's littleness.

What a mere toy is chivalry's pomp among
Glories to nature's empire that belong!

GENEVA, August 1837.

THE TRAVELLER.

"Voir, c'est avoir! Allons courir.

Vie errante

Est chose enivrante.

Voir c'est avoir! Allons courir;

Car tout voir, c'est tout conquérir."

BERANGER. Les Bohémiens.

BRIGHTEN the terraced walks of Nice
With golden fruit, her lemon groves
Mentone boasts, and there increase
Plants that the sun of Afric loves.

Magnificent the Corniche road:

Here, rock-built cities, there, the ocean;

And giant cliffs, their aspect proud

We cannot view without emotion.

Ascending there hill after hill,

We joyful reach each winding turn; Burst on our sight new prospects, still For others we impatient burn: