Full resolution (TIFF) - On this page / på denna sida - Trollhætta.
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Banco, a hundred thousand Banco!" and all by
steam – by mind and spirit.
It was evening. I stood on the heights of
Trollhätta’s old sluices, and saw the ships with
outspread sails glide away through the meadows
like spectres, large and white. The sluice gates
were opened with a ponderous and crashing
sound, like that related of the copper gates of
the secret council in Germany. The evening was
so still that Trollhätta’s Fall was as audible in the
deep stillness, as if it were a chorus from a
hundred water-mills – ever one and the same
tone. In one, however, there sounded a mightier
crash that seemed to pass sheer through
the earth; and yet with all this the endless
silence of nature was felt. Suddenly a large
bird flew out from the trees, far in the forest,
down towards the Falls. Was it the mountain
sprite? – We will imagine so, for it is the most
interesting fancy.
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