Where unremitting frosts the rocky crescent bleach.
"Let a wall of rocks be imagined from three to six hundred feet in height, and rising between France and Spain, so as physically to separate the two kingdoms—let us fancy this wall curved like a crescent with its convexity towards France. Lastly, let us suppose, that in the very middle of the wall a breach of 300 feet wide has been beaten down by the famous Roland, and we may have a good idea of what the mountaineers call the 'Breche de Rolend.'" (Raymond's Pyrenees.)—W. W. 1822.
"Thursday, 20th July.—... Descend towards the town of Aix-la-Chapelle, a chapel on the opposite side of the vale upon a high knoll, overlooking the spires and towers.... Wm., T. M., and myself walked to the chapel we had seen on the heights, said to be built by Charlemagne: a very interesting view of the town, and over a large space of the country beyond, and into the country looking the other way. Wm. went higher to a monument recording that Buonaparte visited the spot with one attendant. We were too late to be satisfied here, the darkness only allowing us to form a notion of the outline, and to catch here and there a spire or a tower in the distance. The chapel here alluded to was not larger in appearance than the tiny rocky edifice at Buttermere. A Christ under the branches of a spreading oak, brought to my mind by contrast, a gay image of a brightly painted fox, on a sign board, among the branches of a flowing chestnut tree, which William and I saw gleaming in the setting sun, when walking through the village of Souldren." (From Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal.)
"Thursday, 20th July. Aix-la-Chapelle.—I went to the Cathedral, a curious Building where are to be seen the chair of Charlemagne, on which the Emperors were formerly crowned, some marble pillars much older than his time; and many pictures; but I could not stay to examine any of these curiosities, and gladly made my way alone back to the inn to rest there. The market-place is a fine old square; but at Aix-la-Chapelle there is always a mighty preponderance of poverty and dulness, except in a few of the showiest of the streets, and even there, a flashy meanness, a slight patchery of things falling to pieces is everywhere visible." (From Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal, vol. i.)—Ed.
VARIANTS:
[483] 1837.
1822.
Its . . .
[484] 1837.