Here the grim tyrant meditates his wrath;
Here arms his winds with all-subduing frost,
Molds his fierce hail, and treasures up his snows.”
On proceeding along the southern coast of Iceland, and at an inconsiderable distance from Skalholt, Mount Hecla, with its three summits, presents itself to the view. Its hight is five thousand feet, or nearly a mile above the level of the sea. It is not a promontory, but lies about four miles inland. It is neither so elevated nor so picturesque as several of the surrounding Icelandic mountains; but has been more noticed than many other volcanoes of an equal extent, partly through the frequency of its eruptions, and partly from its situation, which exposes it to the view of many ships sailing to Greenland and North America. The surrounding territory has been so devastated by these eruptions, that it has been deserted.
“Vast regions dreary, bleak and bare!
There on an icy mountain’s hight,
Seen only by the moon’s pale light
Stern Winter rears his giant form,
His robe a mist, his life a storm:
His frown the shiv’ring nations fly,