Octavius Rooke

Summary

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
Source: Gutenberg

Octavius Rooke The Life of the Moselle

Such is the history of the birth and life of the Moselle. We have now to wander from her birthplace here, in the Vosges mountains, to where she joins her glorious husband Rhine beneath the walls of Ehrenbreitstein. From time to time we shall linger by the roadside, to pluck a flower from legendary lore; from time to time we shall stop to secure a chip from the great rock of history: storing thus our herbal and our sack as well as our portfolio, we shall follow the many bendings of our graceful river, which, womanlike, moves gently and caressingly along, soothing and gladdening all things.
Source: Gutenberg

Octavius Rooke The Life of the Moselle

Autumn had long been turning the green leaves to gold. A tinge of yellow first appeared upon the trees; then warmer and brighter grew the foliage; the vintage came and ended; the corn-harvest was long stored away, and, like the Roman Empire, more gorgeous in decay than in its prime. The forest stood crowned with a thousand hues,—crowned like a sacrifice of old [262] prepared for death,—prepared to offer up at Nature’s shrine the loveliness she gave.
The most gorgeous of the seasons, Autumn is still the saddest. We look on the fallen leaves and think of friends departed
Source: Gutenberg

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