Butwhenthemoon，havingpassedthelineofpinnacles，washiddenbehindthestupendouswhiteswellofMontBlanc，themasterpieceoftheeveningwasflungonthecanvas。
Arichgreenishradiancesprangintotheskyfrombehindthemountain，andinthissameairyshredsandribbonsofvaporfloatedabout，andbeingflushedwiththatstrangetint，wentwavingtoandfrolikepalegreenflames。Afterawhile，radiatingbars——vastbroadeningfan-shapedshadows——grewupandstretchedawaytothezenithfrombehindthemountain。
Itwasaspectacletotakeone\'sbreath，forthewonderofit，andthesublimity。
Indeed，thosemightybarsofalternatelightandshadowstreamingupfrombehindthatdarkandprodigiousformandoccupyingthehalfofthedullandopaqueheavens，wasthemostimposingandimpressivemarvelIhadeverlookedupon。Thereisnosimileforit，fornothingislikeit。Ifachildhadaskedmewhatitwas，Ishouldhavesaid，\"Humbleyourself，inthispresence，itisthegloryflowingfromthehiddenheadoftheCreator。\"
Onefallsshorterofthetruththanthat，sometimes，intryingtoexplainmysteriestothelittlepeople。