AFTER VISITING THE FIELD OF
A WINGED goddess, clothed in vesture wrought
Of rainbow colours; one whose port was bold,
Whose overburthened hand could scarcely hold
The glittering crowns and garlands which it brought-
Hovered in air above the far-famed spot.
She vanished. All was joyless, blank and cold
Of wind-swept corn that wide around us rolled
In dreary billows, from the meagre cot,
And monuments that soon must disappear,
Meanings we craved that could not then be found,
If the wide prospect seemed an envious seal
Of great exploits, we felt as men should feel
With such vast hoards of hidden carnage near,
And horror breathing from the silent ground!
WHAT lovelier home could gentle fancy choose?
Is this the stream, whose cities, heights, and plains,
War's favourite playground, are with crimson stains
Famillar, as the morn with pearly dews?
The morn, that now, along the silver MEUSE,
Spreading her peaceful ensigns, calls the swains
To tend their silent boats and ringing wains,
Or strip the bough whose mellow fruit bestrews
The ripening corn beneath it. As mine eyes
Turn from the fortified and threatening hill,
How sweet the prospect of yon watery glade,
With its gray rocks clustering in pensive shade,
That, shaped like old monastic turrets, rise
From the smooth meadow-ground, serene and still!
WAS it to disenchant, and to undo,
That we approached the seat of Charlemaine?
To sweep from many an old romantic strain
That faith which no devotion may renew!
Why does this puny church present to view
Her feeble columns? and that scanty chair!
This sword that one of our weak times might wear!
Objects of false pretence, or meanly true!
If from a traveller's fortune I might claim
A palpable memorial of that day,
Then would I seek the Pyrenean breach
That ROLAND clove with huge two-handed sway,
And to the enormous labour left his name,
Where unremitting frosts the rocky crescent bleach.
IN THE CATHEDRAL AT COLOGNE
O FOR the help of angels to complete
This temple, angels governed by a plan
How gloriously pursued by daring man.
Studious that He might not disdain the seat
Who dwells in heaven! But that aspiring heat Hath failed; and now, ye powers! whose gorgeous wings
And splendid aspect yon emblazonings
But faintly picture, 'twere an office meet
For you, on these unfinished shafts to try
The midnight virtues of your harmony:
This vast design might tempt you to repeat
Strains that call forth upon empyreal ground
Immortal fabrics, rising to the sound
Of penetrating harps and voices sweet!
IN A CARRIAGE, UPON THE BANKS OF
AMID this dance of objects sadness steals
O'er the defrauded heart, while sweeping by
As in a fit of Thespian jollity,
Beneath her vine-leaf crown the green earth reels :
Backward, in rapid evanescence, wheels
The venerable pageantry of time,
Each beetling rampart, and each tower sublime,
And what the dell unwillingly reveals
Of lurking cloistral arch, through trees espied
Near the bright river's edge. Yet why repine?
To muse, to creep, to halt at will, to gaze,
Such sweet wayfaring, of life's spring the pride,
Her summer's faithful joy, that still is mine,
And in fit measure cheers autumnal days.
FOR THE BOATMEN, AS THEY APPROACH THE RAPIDS UNDER THE CASTLE OF HEIDELBERG
JESU! bless our slender boat,
By the current swept along;
Loud its threatenings, let them not
Drown the music of a song
Breathed thy mercy to implore,
Where these troubled waters roar !
Saviour, in thy image, seen
Bleeding on that precious rood;
If, while through the meadows green
Gently wound the peaceful flood,
We forgot thee, do not Thou
Disregard thy suppliants now!
Hither, like yon ancient tower
Watching o'er the river's bed,
Fling the shadow of thy power,
Else we sleep among the dead;
Thou who trod'st the billowy sea,
Shield us in our jeopardy!
Guide our bark among the waves;
Through the rocks our passage smooth;
Where the whirlpool frets and raves
Let Thy love its anger soothe:
All our hope is placed in Thee;
Miserere Domine!
NOT, like his great compeers, indignantly
Doth DANUBE Spring to light! The wandering stream
(Who loves the cross, yet to the crescent's gleam
Unfolds a willing breast) with infant glee
Slips from his prison walls and fancy, free
To follow in his track of silver light,
Mounts on rapt wing, and with a moment's flight
Hath reached the encincture of that gloomy sea
Whose waves the Orphean lyre forbade to meet
In conflict; whose rough winds forgot their jars
To waft the heroic progeny of Greece;
When the first ship sailed for the Golden Fleece-
ARGO-exalted for that daring feat
To fix in heaven her shape distinct with stars.
ON APPROACHING THE STAUB-BACH,
LAUTERBRUNNEN
UTTERED by whom, or how inspired, designed
For what strange service, does this concert reach
Our ears, and near the dwellings of mankind!
'Mid fields familiarised to human speech?
No mermaid warbles, to allay the wind,
Driving some vessel toward a dangerous beach,
More thrilling melodies! no caverned witch
To chant a love-spell, ever intertwined
Notes shrill and wild with art more musical:
Alas! that from the lips of abject want
Or idleness in tatters mendicant
The strain should flow, free fancy to enthral,
And with regret and useless pity haunt
This bold, this bright, this sky-born, WATERFALL!
THE FALL OF THE AAR, HANDEC
FROM the fierce aspect of this river, throwing
His giant body o'er the steep rock's brink,
Back in astonishment and fear we shrink
But, gradually a calmer look bestowing,
Flowers we espy beside the torrent growing;
Flowers that peep forth from many a cleft and chink,
And, from the whirlwind of his anger, drink
Hues ever fresh, in rocky fortress blowing:
They suck from breath that, threatening to destroy
Is more benignant than the dewy eve,
Beauty, and life, and motions as of joy :
Nor doubt but HE to whom yon pine-trees nod
Their heads in sign of worship, Nature's God,
These humbler adorations will receive.
NEAR THE OUTLET OF THE LAKE OF THUN
ANDENKEN
MEINES FREUNDES
ALOYS REDING
MDCCCXVIII”
Aloys Reding, it will be remembered, was captain-general of the Swiss forces, which, with a courage and perseverance worthy of the cause, opposed the flagitious and too successful attempt of Buonaparte to subjugate their country.
AROUND a wild and woody hill
A gravelled pathway treading,
We reach a votive stone that bears
The name of Aloys Reding.
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