"Saturday, 19th August. Top of Rigi.--With hearts not less joyous than those of the young men with whom we had just parted, we began our journey. How delicious was the descent over the velvet turf, towards the Chapel of Our Lady of the Snow! seen below within a narrow steep glen. The air still fresh and cool, we gradually find ourselves enclosed by the declivities of the glen, those rugged steeps are hung with pine trees, narrow cataracts come down the clefts in unbroken white lines--or over the facings of rock, in drops and stages. Side by side with the central rivulet, we go on still descending, though with far slower pace, and come to the Village of Rigi, and our Lady's Chapel cradled in the slip of the dell, and, at this tranquil time, _lulled_ by the voices of the streams. The interior of the Chapel is hung with hundreds of offerings--staffs, crutches, etc. etc., and pictures representing marvellous escapes, with written records of vows performed--and dangers averted through the gracious protection of Our Lady of the Snow. Near the Chapel is a small religious House, where a few Monks reside, probably in attendance upon the chapel, which continues to draw together numerous worshippers from the distant Vales on days of penitence or of festival." (From Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal, vol. i.)--ED. VARIANTS: [Footnote 506: 1837. All sufferings that no longer rest 1822. ] [Footnote 507: 1837. ... succour, all distrest 1822. ] [Footnote 508: 1837. That pine ... 1822. ] [Footnote HU: Compare Coleridge's _Hymn before Sunrise, in the Vale of Chamouni_-- Ye living flowers that skirt the eternal frost! ED. ] [Footnote 509: 1832. A holy Shadow soft and dear Of chastening sympathies! 1822. ] FOOTNOTES: [Footnote HT: Mount Righi.--W. W. 1822.] XIX EFFUSION, IN PRESENCE OF THE PAINTED TOWER OF TELL, AT ALTORF This Tower stands upon the spot where grew the Linden Tree against which his Son is said to have been placed, when the Father's archery was put to proof under circumstances so famous in Swiss Story. What though the Italian pencil wrought not here, Nor such fine skill as did the meed bestow[510] On Marathonian valour,[HV] yet the tear Springs forth in presence of this gaudy show, While narrow cares their limits overflow. 5 Thrice happy, burghers, peasants, warriors old, Infants in arms, and ye, that as ye go Home-ward or school-ward, ape what ye behold Heroes before your time, in frolic fancy bold!