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المؤلف: Mary Shelley

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اضغط ابدأ واكتب السطور بدقة. · مفتاح الرجوع معطل — استمر حتى بعد الخطأ.

I remained two days at Lausanne, in this painful state of mind. I
contemplated the lake: the waters were placid; all around was
calm; and the snowy mountains, "the palaces of nature," were not
changed. By degrees the calm and heavenly scene restored me, and
I continued my journey towards Geneva.
The road ran by the side of the lake, which became narrower as I
approached my native town. I discovered more distinctly the black
sides of Jura, and the bright summit of Mont Blanc. I wept like a
child. "Dear mountains! my own beautiful lake! how do you welcome
your wanderer? Your summits are clear; the sky and lake are blue
and placid. Is this to prognosticate peace, or to mock at my
unhappiness?"

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