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The coot was swimming in the reedy pond,
Beside the water-hen, so soon affrighted;
And in the weedy moat the heron, fond
Of solitude, alighted.

The moping heron, motionless and stiff,
That on a stone, as silently and stilly,
Stood, an apparent sentinel, as if
To guard the water-lily.

No sound was heard, except from far away,
The ringing of the whitwall's shrilly laughter,
Or now and then the chatter of the jay,
That Echo murmur'd after.

But Echo never mock'd the human tongue;
Some weighty crime, that Heaven could not pardon,
A secret curse on that old building hung,
And its deserted garden.

The beds were all untouch'd by hand or tool;
No footstep mark'd the damp and mossy gravel,
Each walk as green as is the mantled pool,
For want of human travel.

The vine unpruned, and the neglected peach, Droop'd from the wall with which they used to grapple : And on the canker'd tree, in easy reach,

Rotted the golden apple.

But awfully the truant shunn'd the ground,
The vagrant kept aloof, and daring poacher;
In spite of gaps that through the fences round
Invited the encroacher.

For over all there hung a cloud of fear,
A sense of mystery the spirit daunted,
And said, as plain as whisper in the ear,
The place is Haunted!

The pear and quince lay squander'd on the grass; The mould was purple with unheeded showers Of bloomy plums-a wilderness it was

Of fruits, and weeds, and flowers !

The marigold amidst the nettles blew,

The gourd embraced the rose-bush in its ramble, The thistle and the stock together grew,

The hollyhock and bramble.

The bear-bine with the lilac interlaced,

The sturdy bur-dock choked its slender neighbour, The spicy pink. All tokens were effaced

Of human care and labour.

The very yew Formality 5 had train'd
To such a rigid pyramidal stature,
For want of trimming had almost regain'd
The raggedness of nature.

The fountain was a-dry-neglect and time
Had marr'd the work of artisan and mason,
And efts and croaking frogs, begot of slime,
Sprawl'd in the ruined bason.

The statue, fallen from its marble base,

Amidst the refuse leaves and herbage rotten,
Lay like the idol of some bygone race,
Its name and rites forgotten.

On ev'ry side the aspect was the same,
All ruin'd, desolate, forlorn, and savage:
No hand or foot within the precinct came
To rectify or ravage.

For over all there hung a cloud of fear,
A sense of mystery the spirit daunted,
And said, as plain as whisper in the ear,
The place is Haunted!

T. Hood.

X V.

THE PIZ LANGUARD.*

ONE of the chief attractions of the Engadine1 is the ascent of Piz 2 Languard. The point from which the ascent is made is the village of Pontresina,3 about two hours' walk from St. Moritz, lying on the high road to the Bernina Pass. Its position is so favourable for both mountain and glacier excursions, that it has become to the south-east what Chamouni is to the south-west of Switzerland. Piz Languard rises to the height of 10,714 feet; but, as Pontresina itself is nearly 6000 feet above the level of the sea, the actual climb is something less than 5000 feet; and, owing to the peculiar shape of the mountain, the summit is easily accessible. The ascent commences close behind the

* From Swiss Pictures, by kind permission of the Religious Tract Society.

church at the south end of the village, and for an hour, or an hour and a quarter, is somewhat steep and difficult. But the mule path is broad, and passes by zigzags through pines and larches fringed by rhododendrons. Somewhat suddenly the path emerges upon almost level pastures, where the flocks of the Bergamasque shepherds may generally be seen. What is termed the Valley of Languard is soon seen, reaching right up to the base of the pyramid which forms the summit of Piz Languard.

This valley is of a singularly wild and desolate character, presenting scarcely anything to the view but loose stones and rocks. Traversing this in about three quarters of an hour, you stand at the commencement of the final climb. Horses can come thus far; but whoever would enjoy the glorious scene from the summit must here dismount and trust himself to his own feet. The first look is certainly not inviting. A sharp precipitous pyramid rises up out of the valley just traversed, and the pathway lies more or less on one of the angles of the pyramid. The consequence is, that there are several parts of the ascent from which you can look down seemingly immeasurable depths on either side. There is, however, no danger. Pressing steadily on, three-quarters of an hour will suffice to conquer the difficulty, and to place you on the summit. As may be supposed from its contour, the summit is very confined, not affording space for more than from twenty to thirty persons. But once there, every other thought will be swallowed up in the magnificence of the prospect that

stretches out to the horizon on every side. East, west, north, and south, a bewildering succession of snow-clad peaks meets the eye; and it will be some time before the spectator can descend to the particulars of the scene, for the panorama comprises the snow-clad peaks of East Switzerland, Monte Rosa, The Tödi, the Adamello group, and the Zug Spitz, the whole resembling a gigantic relief map. Having feasted his eyes on this wondrous vision, the spectator may now note some of its special features. Let him turn to the south, and he stands face to face with the Bernina chain, and looks down upon the magnificent Morteratsch Glacier, flowing from its heights. Turning a little to the east, he sees the Bernina Pass winding its way like a narrow thread over into Italy; on the summit he will notice two lakes, called the Black and the White, from the colour of their waters. The narrow strip which separates them is the water-shed; for the Black flows on this side to the River Inn, and the White on that to the Adda. Looking still farther to the east, across into the Tyrol, he sees the huge Ortler Spitz, and the Oetzthaler Ferner, glistering with their snow and ice in the rays of the sun. To the south-west, though at least sixty miles off, Monte Rosa rises up like a vast white cliff; and beyond that, it is averred, Mont Blanc can be seen. The guide said it could be detected; but to the question, "Können Sie es sehen?" answered, "Nein."5 West, the Bernese Alps glow in all their brightness; while, in the north, chain after chain of well-known mountains are beheld. The effect on the mind of

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