Dreams, Waking Thoughts, and IncidentsBeckford, William
General
Dreams, Waking Thoughts, and Incidents
Beckford, William
Beckford, William, 1760-1844
These I ascended with some difficulty, and, leaving a few scattered
beech-trees behind, in full leaf, shortly bid adieu to summer, and
entered the regions of spring; for, as I approached that part of the
mountain next the summit, the trees, which I found there rooted in the
crevices, were but just beginning to unfold their leaves, and every spot
of the greensward was covered with cowslips and violets.
After taking a few moments’ repose, my guide prepared to clamber amongst
the rocks, and I followed him with as much alertness as I was able, till
laying hold of the trunk of a withered pine, we sprang upon a small level
space, where I seated myself, and beheld far beneath me the vast desert
and dreary solitudes, amongst which appeared, thinly scattered, the green
meadows and hanging lawns. The eye next overlooking the barrier of
mountains, ranged through immense tracts of distant countries; the plains
where Lyons is situated; the woodlands and lakes of Savoy; amongst which
that of Bourget was near enough to discover its beauties, all glowing
with the warm haze of the setting sun.
My situation was too dizzy to allow a long survey; so turning my eyes
from the terrific precipice, I gladly beheld an opening in the rocks,
through which we passed into a little irregular glen of the smoothest
greensward, closed in on one side by the great peak, and on the others by
a ridge of sharp pinnacles, which crown the range of white cliffs I had
so much admired the night before, when brightened by the moon.
The singular situation of this romantic spot invited me to remain in it
till the sun was about to sink on the horizon: during which time I
visited every little cave delved in the ridges of rock, and gathered
large sprigs of the mezereon and rhododendron in full bloom, which, with
a surprising variety of other plants, carpeted this lovely glen. A
luxuriant vegetation,
“That on the green turf suck’d the honey’d showers,
And purpled all the ground with vernal flow’rs.”
My guide, perceiving I was ready to mount still higher, told me it would
be in vain, as the beds of snow that lie eternally in some fissures of
the mountain, must necessarily impede my progress; but, finding I was
very unwilling to abandon the enterprise, he showed me a few notches in
the peak, by which we might ascend, though not without danger. This
prospect rather abated my courage, and the wind rising, drove several
thick clouds round the bottom of the peak, which increasing every minute,
shortly screened the green mountain and all the forest from our sight. A
sea of vapours soon undulated beneath my feet, and lightning began to
flash from a dark angry cloud, that hung over the valleys, and deluged
them with storms, whilst I was securely standing under the clear expanse
of ether.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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