VIVIAN GREY.
BOOK THE FIRST.
CHAPTER I.
Thou rapid Aar! thy waves are swollen by the snows of a thousand hills—but for whom are thy leaping waters fed?—Is it for the Rhine?
Calmly, oh! placid Neckar, does thy blue stream glide through thy vine-clad vales—but calmer seems thy course when it touches the rushing Rhine!
How fragrant are the banks which are cooled by thy dark-green waters, thou tranquil Maine!—but is not the perfume sweeter of the gardens of the Rhine?
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