MY mule refreshed, his bells Jingled once more, the signal to depart, And we set out in the gray light of dawn, Descending rapidly,—by waterfalls Fast frozen, and among huge blocks of ice That in their long career had stopt midway; At length, unchecked, unbidden, he stood still, And all his bells were muffled. Then my guide, Lowering his voice, addressed me:—“Through this chasm On, and say nothing,—for a word, a breath, Stirring the air, may loosen and bring down A winter’s snow,—enough to overwhelm The horse and foot that, night and day, defiled Along this path to conquer at Marengo.”
An Alpine Descent
More from Poet
-
IF thou shouldst ever come by choice or chance To Modena, where still religiously Among her ancient trophies is preserved Bologna’s bucket (in its chain it hangs Within that reverend tower, the Guirlandina), Stop at a palace near the Reggio gate, Dwelt in of old by one of the Orsini. Its noble...
-
From “Italy” THIS region, surely, is not of the earth. Was it not dropt from heaven? Not a grove, Citron or pine or cedar, not a grot Sea-worn and mantled with the gadding vine, But breathes enchantment. Not a cliff but flings On the clear wave some image of delight, Some cabin-roof glowing...
-
From “Italy” THERE is a glorious City in the Sea. The Sea is in the broad, the narrow streets, Ebbing and flowing; and the salt sea-weed Clings to the marble of her palaces. No track of men, no footsteps to and fro, Lead to her gates. The path lies o’er the Sea, Invisible; and from the land we...
-
From “The Pleasures of Memory” ETHEREAL power! who at the noon of night Recall’st the far fled spirit of delight; From whom that musing, melancholy mood Which charms the wise, and elevates the good; Blest Memory, hail! O grant the grateful muse, Her pencil dipped in nature’s living hues, To...
-
O That the chemist’s magic art Could crystallize this sacred treasure! Long should it glitter near my heart, A secret source of pensive pleasure. The little brilliant, ere it fell, Its lustre caught from Chloe’s eye; Then, trembling, left its coral cell,— The spring of Sensibility! Sweet...