Nathan Haskell Dole,
The Spell of Switzerland
“ So great was the fear of Pilatus that until comparatively modern times no one dared to go up to it. Now there is a railway, and the ghost of Pilate is laid. Sir Edwin Arnold speaks of the legend in his lilting poem:—“He riseth alone,—alone and proudFrom the shore of an emerald sea;His crest hath a shroud of the crimson cloud,For a king of the Alps is he;Standing alone as a king should stand,With his foot on the fields of his own broad lands. ”
