They presented a spectacle of heavenly glory; and long did we linger after the rosy lights had passed away from their summits, and taken a station in the calm sky above them.[46] It was ten o'clock when we reached the inn. [Footnote 46: After the sunshine has left the mountain-tops the sky frequently becomes brighter, and of the same hue as if the light from the hills had retreated thither.--D. W.] _Brienz, Wednesday, August 9th._-- ... There was something in the exterior of the people belonging to the inn at Brienz that reminded one of the ferry-houses in the Highlands--a sort of untamed familiarity with strangers, and an expression of savage fearlessness in danger. While we were waiting at the door, a company of females came up, returning from harvest labours in the Vale of Berne to their homes at the head of the lake. They gathered round, eyeing us steadily, and presently a girl began to sing, another joined, a third, a fourth, and then a fifth, their arms gracefully laid over each other's shoulders. Large black or straw hats shaded their heads, undecked with ribands, and their attire was grey; the air they sang was plaintive and wild, without sweetness, yet not harsh. The group collected round that lonely house on the river's edge would have made a pretty picture.... The shore of Brienz, as far as we saw it, is much richer in intricate graces than the shores of the Lake of Thun. Its little retiring bays and shaggy rocks reminded me sometimes of Loch Ketterine. Our minstrel peasants passed us on the water, no longer singing _plaintive_ ditties, such as inspired the little poem which I shall transcribe in the following page; but with bursts of merriment they rowed lustily away. The poet has, however, transported the minstrels in their gentle mood from the cottage door to the calm lake. "What know we of the Blest above But that they sing and that they love?" Yet if they ever did inspire A mortal hymn, or shaped the choir, Now, where those harvest Damsels float Homeward in their rugged Boat (While all the ruffling winds are fled, Each slumbering on some mountain's head) Now, surely, hath that gracious aid Been felt, that influence display'd. Pupils of Heaven, in order stand The rustic Maidens, every hand Upon a Sister's shoulders laid,-- To chant, as Angels do above, The melodies of Peace, in love![47] [Footnote 47: See the "Poetical Works," vol. vi. p. 315, in "Memorials of a Tour on the Continent, 1820," _Scene on the Lake of Brientz_.--ED.]