I arose quickly and ran to open the window wide.
Then presented itself to my astonished eyes such a wondrous spectacle as
no mortal tongue, no pen of man, can describe--the wide prospect that the
eagle, the denizen of the high Alps, sweeps with his far reaching ken
every morning at the rising of the deep purple veil that overhung the
horizon by night mountains farther off! mountains far away! and yet again
in the blue distance--mountains still, blending with the grey mists of
the morning in the shadowy horizon!--motionless billows that sink into
peace and stillness in the blue distance of the plains of Lorraine. Such
is a faint idea of the mighty scenery of the Vosges, boundless forests,
silver lakes, dazzling crests, ridges, and peaks projecting their clear
outlines upon the steel-blue of the valleys clothed in snow. Beyond this,
infinite space!
Could any enthusiasm of poet or skill of painter attain the sublime
elevation of such a scene as that?
I stood mute with admiration. At every moment the details stood out
more clearly in the advancing light of morning; hamlets, farm-houses,
villages, seemed to rise and peep out of every undulation of the land.
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