Even for the Man who stops not here, 25 But down the irriguous valley hies, Thy very name, O Lady! flings, O'er blooming fields and gushing springs A tender sense of shadowy fear, And chastening sympathies![509] 30 Nor falls that intermingling shade To summer-gladsomeness unkind: It chastens only to requite With gleams of fresher, purer, light; While, o'er the flower-enamelled glade, 35 More sweetly breathes the wind. But on!--a tempting downward way, A verdant path before us lies; Clear shines the glorious sun above; Then give free course to joy and love, 40 Deeming the evil of the day Sufficient for the wise. "August, Saturday 19th. Top of the Rigi.--... Eastern sky rich with golden streaks, clouds floating around in all directions _below us_: then driving eastwards, we expecting momently to be enveloped in the condensing mist, but the breezes again and again took it away, through the channel between the Rigi and the opposite mountains. At length the bright sun just showed itself, lighted up the tips of the Alps with a rosy splendour, silvered the edges of, and gave angels' wings to the neighbouring clouds for a moment, then shrouded himself up, and the glory faded away.... A tall cross is finely placed upon the top of this hill.... Set forward on our descent from this remarkable place. Pleasant green mountain track led us soon to the Parish Church of Rigiberg, dedicated to 'Our Lady of the Snow.' It was crammed with pictures of the Virgin and Child, in various situations, setting forth her miraculous powers, and how they had been exercised: small convent of Capuchins close by: easy and beautiful road down for some time; high Crosses with pictures all the way; Chapels with frightful figures, enough to terrify the Religious on their way to 'Our Lady of the Snow': met several peasants before we reached the foot of the hill; Houses for them to rest on their way: beautiful _steep thin_ waterfalls; lofty wooded and pine-clad crags accompanied us all the way on our descent...." (From Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal.)