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At length the toilsome height attain'd, Quick fled the moon, and sudden stillness reign'd. As fearful turn'd my searching eye, Glanc'd near a shadowy form, and fleeted by; Anon, before me full it stood: A saintly figure, pale, in pensive mood.
But, those attain'd, we tremble to survey The growing labours of the lengthen'd way, Th' increasing prospect tires our wand'ring eyes, Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise. Having sufficiently contemplated the view, we began to think of returning to the valley, which presented a most enlivening appearance after the chaos we had left.
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