By William Wordsworth
MEMORIALS OF A TOUR ON THE CONTINENT, 1820
| Switzerland: Engelberg |
| Engelberg, the Hill of Angels |
| William Wordsworth (1770–1850) |
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| FOR gentlest uses, ofttimes Nature takes | |
| The work of Fancy from her willing hands; | |
| And such a beautiful creation makes | |
| As renders needless spells and magic wands, | |
| And for the boldest tale belief commands. | 5 |
| When first mine eyes beheld that famous hill | |
| The sacred Engelberg, celestial bands, | |
| With intermingling motions soft and still, | |
| Hung round its top, on wings that changed their hues at will. | |
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| Clouds do not name those visitants; they were | 10 |
| The very angels whose authentic lays, | |
| Sung from that heavenly ground in middle air, | |
| Made known the spot where piety should raise | |
| A holy structure to the Almighty’s praise. | |
| Resplendent apparition! if in vain | 15 |
| My ears did listen, ’t was enough to gaze, | |
| And watch the slow departure of the train, | |
| Whose skirts the glowing mountain thirsted to detain! | |
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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Engelberg_Abbey
From here came the monks to Conception, MO, btw.
