It seemed to me that of all I had seen in the world, Tivoli was the most
lovely. The old "temple of the Sibyl" on the hill stood on consecrated
ground, and consecrated the whole neighbourhood. I loved those
waterfalls, which impressed me much more than Trollhaettan [Footnote:
Trollhaettan, a celebrated waterfall near Goeteborg in Sweden.], had done
in my childhood. In one place the water falls down, black and boiling,
into a hollow of the rock, and reminded me of the descent into Tartarus;
in another the cataract runs, smiling and twinkling with millions of
shining pearls, in the strong sunlight. In a third place, the great
cascade rushes down over the rocks. There, where it touches the nether
rocks, rests the end of the enormous rainbow which, when the sun shines,
is always suspended across it. Noufflard told me that Niagara itself
impressed one less. We scrambled along the cliff until we stood above
the great waterfall, and could see nothing but the roaring, foaming
white water, leaping and dashing down; it looked as though the seething
and spraying masses of water were springing over each other's heads in a
mad race, and there was such power, such natural persuasion in it, that
one seemed drawn with it, and gliding, as it were, dragged into the
abyss. It was as though all Nature were disembodied, and flinging
herself down.
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