Octavius Rooke, The Life of the Moselle
“ It is impossible to wander from the source of our Moselle, to muse over the rise and fall of the nations and cities on her banks, to look upon her rocks and flowers, to glide adown her stream, to stand amidst the ruined walls of her old towers, to watch the seed-time and harvest on her banks, the clustering bunches and the brilliant glow of the wine and corn, with all the lesser incidents adorning her;—it is impossible to view all these, to ruminate and gaze, to live with her and be of her in all her windings, all her sunshine and refreshing shade, and not imbibe a portion of her spirit ”
