From “Mont Blanc” MONT BLANC yet gleams on high:—the power is there, The still and solemn power of many sights, And many sounds, and much of life and death. In the calm darkness of the moonless nights, In the lone glare of day, the snows descend Upon that Mountain; none beholds them there, Nor when the flakes burn in the sinking sun, Or the star-beams dart thro’ them:—Winds contend Silently there, and heap the snow with breath Rapid and strong, but silently! Its home The voiceless lightning in these solitudes Keeps innocently, and like vapor broods Over the snow. The secret strength of things Which governs thought, and to the infinite dome Of heaven is as a law, inhabits thee! And what were thou, and earth, and stars, and sea, If to the human mind’s imaginings Silence and solitude were vacancy?
“Mont Blanc yet gleams on high”
More from Poet
-
Első álmom rólad volt, első álmom elröpült. Még az esti szél nyögött, még az égen csillag ült. Lábaimban lakik egy szellem: az rejtélyesen húzott, hozott, vezetett ablakodhoz, édesem! Csitt! A fekete folyón illet és szél úgy alél, mintha mákos álmokat tépegetne ott az éj. Apadoz a zokogás a...
-
Forrás folyóba ömlik, folyó az óceánba; az egeknek folyton özönlik vegyülő suhogása; magány sehol; isteni jel s rend, hogy minden tünemény keveredjék valamivel - Mért ne veled én? A hegy csókolva tör égbe, habot hab ölel, szorit, átfog; egymást ringatva, becézve hajlonganak a virágok; a földet a...
-
From “Alastor”; Preface “Nondum amabam, et amare amabam, quærebam quid amarem, amans amare.”—Confessions of Saint Augustine. EARTH, ocean, air, belovèd brotherhood! If our great mother has imbued my soul With aught of natural piety to feel Your love, and recompense the boon with mine; If...
-
From “View from the Euganean Hills” ALL is bright and clear and still Round the solitary hill. Beneath is spread like a green sea The waveless plain of Lombardy, Bounded by the vaporous air, Islanded by cities fair; Underneath day’s azure eyes, Ocean’s nursling, Venice, lies,— A peopled...
-
I Met a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped...