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Thou first and chief, sole sovran * of the Vale ! O struggling with the darkness all the night, f And visited all night by troops of stars, Or when they climb the sky or when they sink : Companion of the morning-star at dawn, Thyself Earth's rosy star, and of the dawn Co-herald : wake, O wake, and utter praise ! Who sank thy sunless pillars deep in Earth ? Who fill’d thy countenance with rosy light? Who made thee parent of perpetual streams ?
And you, ye five wild torrents fiercely glad ! Who call'd you forth from night and utter death, From dark and icy caverns call’d you forth, $ Down those precipitous, black, jagged Rocks,
So sweet, we know not we are listening to it.
Hand and voice,
1802. * In The Friend of November 16, 1809, are some corrections of this poem-for “ sole sovran we are told to read “ stern monarch." of And thou, O silent mountain, sole and bare,
O blacker than the darkness all the night—1802. # Father-ib. § From darkness let you loose, and icy dens—il.
For ever shatter'd and the same for ever?
Ye ice-falls ! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain—* Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopp'd at once amid their maddest plunge ! Motionless torrents ! silent cataracts ! Who made you glorious as the gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon ? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows ? Who, with living
flowers Of loveliest blue,t spread garlands at your feet ?God ! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God! I God ! sing ye meadow-streams with gladsome
voice ! Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds ! And they too have a voice, yon piles of snow, And in their perilous fall shall thunder, God! $
* Ye that from yon dizzy heights
Adown enormous ravines steeply slope-1802. + Who with lovely flowers
Of living blue, &c.—il.
Utter! The ice-plain bursts, and answers God !ib. $ The silent snow-mass, loosening, thunders God !-ib.
Ye living flowers that skirt the eternal frost !
Thou too, hoar Mount ! † with thy sky-pointing
peaks, Oft from whose feet the avalanche, unheard, Shoots downward, glittering through the pure
Into the depth of clouds, that veil thy breast-
* Ye dreadless flowers, that fringe th' eternal frost !
Ye wild goats, bounding by the eagle's nest!
Ye eagles, playmates of the mountain blast !-1802. of The list of corrections already alluded to alters this to
“ And thou, hoar Mount !" # Glittering in-1809. § That as once more I raise my headib.
THE BRITISH STRIPLING'S
IMITATED FROM STOLBERG.
YES, noble old Warrior! this heart has beat high, Since you told of the deeds which our coun
trymen wrought; O lend me the sabre that hung by thy thigh
And I too will fight as my forefathers fought.
Despise not my youth, for my spirit is steel'd
hand; Yea, as firm as thyself would I march to the field, And as proudly would die for my dear native
In the sports of my childhood I mimick'd the fight,
The sound of a trumpet suspended my breath ; And my fancy still wander'd by day and by night,
Amid battle and tumult, Řmid conquest and death.
My own shout of onset, when the Armies advance,
How oft it awakes me from visions of glory; When I meant to have leapt on the Hero of France,
And have dash'd him to earth, pale and breath
less and gory.
* Morning Post, August 24, 1799 ; Annual Anthology, 1800, signed " Esteesi."
As late thro' the city with banners all streaming
To the music of trumpets the Warriors flew by, With helmet and scimitars naked and gleaming, On their proud-trampling, thunder-hoof'd steeds
did they fly;
I sped to yon heath that is lonely and bare,
For each nerve was unquiet, each pulse in alarm ; And I hurld the mock-lance thro' the objectless
air, And in open-eyed dream proved the strength of
Yes, noble old Warrior ! this heart has beat high, Since you
told of the deeds that our countrymen
wrought; O lend me the sabre that hung by thy thigh,
And I too will fight as my forefathers fought !
WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM AT ELBINGERODE,
IN THE HARTZ FOREST. I STOOD on Brocken’s # sovran height, and saw
Woods crowding upon woods, hills over hills,
* This poem is reprinted in Coleridge's Literary Remains (vol. i. pp. 276-77), with a few unimportant verbal variations.
t Printed in The Morning Post, September 17, 1799, and in The Annual Anthology, vol. ii., Bristol, 1800.
# The highest mountain in the Hartz, and indeed in North Germany.