Mont Blanc

Mont Blanc was first made known to me by Percey Shelley, whose poem by the same name was the sunshine of an otherwise dull class in my freshman year of university. We saw the mountain for the first time ourselves this morning, while tending to peppermint, and I can attest to the hugeness of feeling that such a grand sight offers. The beginning of Shelley's poem follows...

The everlasting universe of things

Flows through the mind, and rolls its rapid waves,

Now dark - now glittering - now reflecting gloom -

Now lending splendor, where from secret springs

The source of human thought its tribute brings

Of waters, - with a sound but half its own,

Such as a feeble brook will oft assume

In the wild woods, amon the mountains lone,

Where waterfalls around it leap for ever,

Where woods and winds contend, and a vast river

Over its rocks ceaselessly bursts and raves.