"Monday, 14th August. Sarnen.--It was a little past seven o'clock when (having passed round the neck of the hill, or promontory, as I may call it) we perceived that the object of our delightful day's journey could not be far distant. A stately mass of crag, a mountain composed of stone of a soft yellow hue irregularly piled up, and between pyramid and tower-shaped, appeared before us. It could be no other than the Hill of _Engelberg_, the Angel's Hill, where, it is believed, the angels sang songs of approval, while holy men laid the foundation of the abbey. Others say that the Founders were led to _choose_ that spot because the Rock of Engelberg was the place those happy spirits were accustomed to haunt, and that their melodies were heard while the work was going on. It is no wonder that such traditions are believed by some of the good Catholics even at this day; for never was there on earth a more beautiful pinnacle for happy spirits than the Rock of Engelberg, as we first beheld it, gilded with the beams of the declining sun. Light clouds, as white as snow, yet melting into the thinnest substance, and tinged with heavenly light, were floating around and below its summit. We exclaimed, 'There you see the wings of the Angels!'----. Our recollections of that moment cannot be effaced; and some time afterwards my Brother expressed his feelings in the following little Poem." (From Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal, vol. i.)--ED. VARIANTS: [Footnote 504: 1827. ENGELBERG. 1822. ] [Footnote 505: 1827. And even such ... 1822. ] FOOTNOTES: [Footnote HS: The Titlis.--ED.] XVIII OUR LADY OF THE SNOW Meek Virgin Mother, more benign Than fairest Star, upon the height Of thy own mountain,[HT] set to keep Lone vigils through the hours of sleep, What eye can look upon thy shrine 5 Untroubled at the sight? These crowded offerings as they hang In sign of misery relieved, Even these, without intent of theirs, Report of comfortless despairs, 10 Of many a deep and cureless pang And confidence deceived. To Thee, in this aërial cleft, As to a common centre, tend All sufferers that no more rely[506] 15 On mortal succour--all who sigh[507] And pine,[508] of human hope bereft, Nor wish for earthly friend. And hence, O Virgin Mother mild! Though plenteous flowers around thee blow,[HU] 20 Not only from the dreary strife Of Winter, but the storms of life, Thee have thy Votaries aptly styled, OUR LADY OF THE SNOW.