“The poet Wordsworth has given two very vivid descriptions of these mist phenomena, under different aspects from that in which I witnessed them. The first is contained in his descriptive sketches of a pedestrian tour among the Alps. “‘’Tis morn: with gold the verdant mountain glows, More high, the snowy peaks with hues of rose. Far stretched beneath the many-tinted hills A mighty waste of mist the valley fills, A solemn sea! whose vales and mountains round Stand motionless, to awful silence bound. A gulf of gloomy blue, that opens wide And bottomless, divides the midway tide. Like leaning masts of stranded ships appear The pines, that near the coast their summits rear. Of cabins, woods and lawns a pleasant shore Bounds calm and clear the chaos still and hoar. Loud through that midway gulf ascending, sound, Unnumbered streams with hollow roar profound. Mount through the nearer mist the chant of birds, And talking voices, and the low of herds, The bark of dogs, the drowsy tinkling bell, And wild-wood mountain lutes of saddest swell.’ “But this extract is not to be compared for power to the following from the same poem, describing an Alpine sunset after a day of mist and storm upon the mountains. “‘’Tis storm, and hid in mist from hour to hour, All day the floods a deepening murmur pour. The sky is vailed, and every cheerful sight, Dark is the region as with coming night, But what a sudden burst of overpowering light Triumphant on the bosom of the storm Glances the fire-clad eagle’s wheeling form. Eastward, in long perspective glittering, shine The wood-crowned cliffs, that o’er the lake recline. Wide o’er the Alps a hundred streams unfold, At once to pillars turned, that flame with gold. Behind his sail the peasant tries to shun The west, that burns like one dilated sun, Where in a mighty crucible expire The mountains, glowing hot, like coals of fire!’