Involuntarily I thought of Schiller's _Diver_.

{40} I seemed to see the goblet hang on the peaks and jags of the rock; I could fancy I saw the monsters rise from the bottom.

It must be a peculiar pleasure to read this splendid poem in such an appropriate spot.
I found scarcely any basins of Brodem or coloured waters.

The only one of the kind which I saw was a small basin, in which a brownish-red substance, rather denser than water, was boiling.

Another smaller spring, with dirty brown water, I should have quite overlooked, if I had not so industriously searched for these curiosities.
At last, after long waiting, on the second day of my stay, on the 27th June, at half-past eight in the morning, I was destined to see an eruption of the Geyser in its greatest perfection.