LI. A thousand battles have assail'd thy banks, But these and half their fame have pass'd away, And Slaughter heap'd on high his weltering ranks : Their very graves are gone, and what are they? Thy tide wash'd down the blood of yesterday, And all was stainless, and on thy clear stream Glass'd with its dancing light the sunny ray, But o'er the blacken'd memory's blighting dream Thy waves would vainly roll, all sweeping as they seem. LII. Thus Harold inly said, and pass'd along, Awoke the jocund birds to early song In glens which might have made even exile dear; Joy was not always absent from his face, But o'er it in such scenes would steal with transient trace. LIII. Nor was all love shut from him, though his days) Of passion had consumed themselves to dust. It is in vain that we would coldly gaze On such as smile upon us; the heart must LIV. And he had learn'd to love-I know not why, Small power the nipp'd affections have to grow, LV. And there was one soft breast, as hath been said, Which unto his was bound by stronger ties Still undivided, and cemented more By peril, dreaded most in female eyes; But this was firm, and from a foreign shore Well to that heart might his these absent greetings pour! I. The castled crag of Drachenfels Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine, 2. And peasant girls, with deep-blue eyes, Above, the frequent feudal towers Through green leaves lift their walls of gray, And many a rock which steeply lowers, And noble arch in proud decay, Look o'er this vale of vintage bowers; But one thing want these banks of RhineThy gentle hand to clasp in mine! 3. I send the lilies given to me; Though long before thy hand they touch, 4. The river nobly foams and flows,— Could thy dear eyes in following mine Still sweeten more these banks of Rhine. LVI. By Coblentz, on a rise of gentle ground, There is a small and simple pyramid, Crowning the summit of the verdant mound; Beneath its base are heroes' ashes hid, Our enemy's, but let not that forbid Honor to Marceau! o'er whose early tomb Tears, big tears, gush'd from the rough soldier's lid, Lamenting and yet envying such a doom, Falling for France, whose rights he battled to resume. LVII. Brief, brave, and glorious was his young career,— On such as wield her weapons; he had kept LVIII. Here Ehrenbreitstein, with her shatter'd wall Black with the miner's blast, upon her height Yet shows of what she was, when shell and bal! Rebounding idly on her strength did light; A tower of victory! from whence the flight Of baffled foes was watch'd along the plain: But Peace destroy'd what War could never blight, And laid those proud roofs bare to Summer's rainOn which the iron shower for years had pour'd in vain. LIX. Adieu, to thee, fair Rhine! How long delighted LX. Adieu to thee again! a vain adieu ! There can be no farewell to scene like thine; Their cherish'd gaze upon thee, lovely Rhine! The brilliant, fair, and soft ;—the glories of old days, LXI. The negligently grand, the fruitful bloom 1 Still springing o'er thy banks, though Empires near them fall. |