It is not noon--the sunbow's rays still arch
The torrent with the many hues of heaven,
And roll the sheeted silver's waving column,
O'er the crag's headlong perpendicular,
And fling its lines of foaming light along,
_And to and fro, like the pale courser's tail,
The Giant steed, to be bestrode by Death,
As told in the Apocalypse._


"Sept. 23rd.

"Before ascending the mountain, went to the torrent (seven in the
morning) again; the sun upon it, forming a _rainbow_ of the lower part
of all colours, but principally purple and gold; the bow moving as you
move; I never saw anything like this: it is only in the sunshine.
Ascended the Wengen mountain; at noon reached a valley on the summit;
left the horses, took off my coat, and went to the summit, seven
thousand feet (English feet) above the level of the _sea_, and about
five thousand above the valley we left in the morning. On one side,
our view comprised the Jungfrau, with all her glaciers; then the Dent
d'Argent, shining like truth; then the Little Giant (the Kleine
Eigher;) and the Great Giant (the Grosse Eigher,) and last, not least,
the Wetterhorn. The height of the Jungfrau is 13,000 feet above the
sea, 11,000 above the valley: she is the highest of this range. Heard
the avalanches falling every five minutes nearly. From whence we
stood, on the Wengen Alp, we had all these in view on one side; on the
other, the clouds rose from the opposite valley, curling up
perpendicular precipices like the foam of the ocean of hell, during a