But The Greatest Beauty Of The Spring Is
The Splendid Colouring Proceeding From The Rock; It Is Of The
Tenderest, Most Transparent, Pale Blue And Green, And Resembles The
Reflection Of A Bengal Flame.
But what is most strange is, that
this play of colour proceeds from the rock, and only extends eight
to ten inches from it, while the other water is colourless as common
water, only more transparent, and purer.
I could not believe it at first, and thought it must be occasioned
by the sun; I therefore visited the springs at different times,
sometimes when the sun shone brightly, sometimes when it was
obscured by clouds, once even after its setting; but the colouring
always remained the same.
One may fearlessly approach the brink of these springs. The
platform which projects directly from them, and under which one can
see in all directions, is indeed only a thin ledge of rock, but
strong enough to prevent any accident. The beauty consists, as I
have said, in the magical illumination, and in the transparency, by
which all the caves and grottoes to the greatest depths become
visible to the eye. Involuntarily I thought of Schiller's Diver.
{40} I seemed to see the goblet hang on the peaks and jags of the
rock; I could fancy I saw the monsters rise from the bottom. It
must be a peculiar pleasure to read this splendid poem in such an
appropriate spot.
I found scarcely any basins of Brodem or coloured waters.
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