“To the north the series of gentle eminences and valleys lose their individual distinctions, and blend into one extensive plain, patched with the varied colours of their produce, and dotted with the divisions of trees and hedges which unite by their graceful lines the numerous villages that intersect it. On this variegated expanse the serpentine course of the unruffled Rhine may be traced like a stream of molten silver, flowing onwards towards Cologne, its bright bosom continuously seen, occasionally bearing specks of vessels gently descending with the current. Innumerable towers and spires gleam amidst the verdant glades, or peer from the deepening woods; and as the eventide breeze flows through the gentle air, the pleasing and varied harmonies of chiming bells, afar and near, break upon the ear.” “On the same side, a series of gradual elevations, shelving down to the Rhine, forms the commencement of the cluster of the Drachenfels, whose bold forms sweep majestically around the towering rock of the Dragon, like the turbulent waves of the ocean against the soaring lighthouse. Turning to the west, the conical form of the Godesberg, surmounted by its picturesque towers, and relieved by the sparkling habitations at its base, stands out conspicuously from the deeper toned ridge of hills, by which it appears shut in between Bonn and Rolandseck. Behind this wooded screen are the diversified forms of the Eifel chain, extending in various ramifications towards Spa, Treves, and Luxembourg, occupying the territory between the Mosel and the Maas.” “On the shore beyond, embowered amidst the surrounding uplands, is the partially concealed town of Oberwinter; beyond which, a sharp point of land juts into the Rhine, nearly opposite the village of Unkel. From this point commences the interminable series of mountain summits, which stretch along the horizon in all the grandeur of form, harmony of composition, and fascination of colour. The eye rises from the placid bosom of the Rhine, in which the pure sky is serenely mirrored, and, after dwelling with rapture on the gorgeous hues of the nearer landscape, it glides with increasing fervour over the air-drawn bulwarks which tower around this lovely scene. These choice materials of redundant Nature, tipped with the magical hues of a gorgeous sunset, and a translucent twilight, and invested with the majesty of sweeping yet mellow shadows, sufficiently account to my own mind for the lengthened description in which I have with all humility indulged. ‘——Expression cannot paint The breadth of Nature and her endless bloom.’”[7] While viewing this magnificent scene from the little Caffé, perched as close to the edge of a precipice as the ruined castle itself, it was impossible not to recall the words of our immortal bard and country’s boast—Byron.