Thou first and chief, sole sovran * of the Vale! Or when they climb the sky or when they sink : 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. And active will self-conscious, offer now Not, as before, involuntary prayer And passive adoration! Hand and voice, Awake, awake! and thou, my heart, awake! Awake, ye rocks! Ye forest pines, awake! Green fields, and icy cliffs! All join my hymn ! 1802. 66 * In The Friend of November 16, 1809, are some corrections of this poem-for "sole sovran we are told to read stern monarch." † And thou, O silent mountain, sole and bare, O blacker than the darkness all the night—1802. § From darkness let you loose, and icy dens—il'. For ever shatter'd and the same for ever? Your strength, your speed, your fury, and your joy, And who commanded (and the silence came,) * Ye ice-falls! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amainTorrents, 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? flowers Who, with living Of loveliest blue,† spread garlands at your feet?— God! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God! ‡ God sing ye meadow-streams with gladsome voice! Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds! *Ye that from yon dizzy heights Adown enormous ravines steeply slope-1802. + Who with lovely flowers Of living blue, &c.-il. God! God! the torrents, like a shout of nations, Ye living flowers that skirt the eternal frost ! Ye wild goats sporting round the eagle's nest ! Ye eagles, play-mates of the mountain-storm! * Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the clouds! Ye signs and wonders of the element ! Utter forth God, and fill the hills with praise ! Thou too, hoar Mount! † with thy sky-pointing peaks, Oft from whose feet the avalanche, unheard, Shoots downward, glittering through the pure serene Into the depth of clouds, that veil thy breast- Slow travelling with dim eyes suffused with tears, To rise before me-Rise, O ever rise, Rise like a cloud of incense from the Earth! * Ye dreadless flowers, that fringe th' eternal frost! Ye eagles, playmates of the mountain blast!-1802. †The list of corrections already alluded to alters this to"And thou, hoar Mount!" Glittering in-1809. § That as once more I raise my head-il. THE BRITISH STRIPLING'S WAR-SONG.* IMITATED FROM STOLBERG. YES, noble old Warrior! this heart has beat high, Since you told of the deeds which our countrymen wrought; O lend me the sabre that hung by thy thigh 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 land. 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, 'mid 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 I sped to yon heath that is lonely and bare, For each nerve was unquiet, each pulse in alarm; And I hurl'd the mock-lance thro' the objectless air, And in open-eyed dream proved the strength of my arm. 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! LINES WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM AT ELBINGERODE, * 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. + 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. |