"Oh are there spirits, can there be" [poem]
Oh are there spirits, can there be
Things of such wondrous mystery
Oh are there spirits, can a mind
Float bodiless and unconfined
Or can the air the earth, the sea
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Be filled with immortality
Some say that in the cold moonlight
There hovereth many a changing sprite
Some say the wind, and who can tell
Bears spirits voices in its swell
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But if upon our mortal sense
There rules a unearthly influence
If there be sprites in earth or air,
They surely have their dwelling there 1
"Source of the Arveron" [essay]
Source of the Arveron a
What a delicious thing is a reverie, that total abstraction
from all things present, that stilly dreamy waking vision
that places where you are not, that carries you where you
wish tobe, that presents the past to your recollection, and
the future to your fancy, so forcibly, so impressively, so lovelily,
throwing a glow on every circumstance, a halo on every feature
giving the vivid, the magic colouring of the dream to the defined
and distinct recollection of the reality It is thus that I look
back upon our first walk at Chamouni, to the Source of
the Arveron. 2 What variaties of childish beauty we met with
that short walk, every little power mountaineer was a perfect
picture, one little fellow insisted upon conducting us to the source
and as notre guide principale piloted us proudly through the
crowd of little fry who were lying in wait, all expecting
a similar distinction, but who, finding the post of honour
preoccupied, followed grav very gravely, en suite 3 Voila la
source quoth our petit conducteur, as we emerged from
a dark wood of pines bordering on the waves of the flashing
Arveron It was exceeding lovely. The day had been
one continued succession of storms but the eve was breaking
and giving fair promise of a clou sunny morrow right
in front a few exhausted, but lingering thundering
tempest clouds shadowed the dark masses of pine that
girdle the Montanvert, 4 but farther the to the whe west
broke away into fleecy masses scarcely distinguishable from
the eternal snow that flashed through their openings and farther
still a serene evening sky glowed peacefully A lurid ominous
light pervaded the whole air, that stormy and murky lume
the effect of the strange combat between the sun and tempest
the one casting the whole body of mo gigantic mountains into

a dreary darkness, the other shootin pouring a stream of red ghostly
lu dusky light up the valley that caught as it past the projecting
pinnacled spires of the glacier des Bossons which flashed dazzling
forth from the gloom of the ribbed crags as the lightning leaps
from the thunder cloud A low hollow melancholy echoing was
heard issuing from the recesses of the mountains, the last sighing
of the passing away tempest the last murmers of the storm
spirit as he yielded up his reign, it past away and the
blue rigidness of the transparent grotto cavern of the glacier
woke rosily to the kiss of the departing sun
"I woke to hear the lullaby" ["The Arve at Chamouni"] [poem]
I woke to hear the lullaby b
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Of the fie swift river rolling by
Monotonous yet beautiful
Ever t the gentle pebbly swift swell
Of ever And every ripple lent his plash
Joining in chorus wi
h the dash
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Of m every mighty mountain stream
That joyful sung his morning hymn
His iris glory round him quivering
Where his white showery falls were shivering
There is a melancholy smile
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On natures features fair the while
When the dank dews descending grey,
Weep for the loss of parting day
There is a sad and soft complaining
In the light breeze when day is waning
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The evening star is fair and full
But it is passing sorrowfull
And merry is the laughing light
That blushes oer the heavens height
That stream and bird and for breeze and tree
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V For very joy sing merrily
When wakes the morn the morn the mountain snows
From their cold fixed pale repose
It was a most enchanting vision
The morning mists had upwards risen
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And floating in the fields of air
Lay in long lines most calmly there
You could not call them clouds I wist
They were not smoke they were not mist
They were a sort of visible breeze,
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Touching the tops of the pine trees
That as we passed beneath, and strook
Their stretchy branches ever shook
The laughing showers of lightso dancing dew
Reflecting every rainbow hue
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Or clinging to the clusters dank
of bright green moss upon the bank
And where those pines their crests had cloven
How rich the sun was interwoven
And smiling through the leafy shade
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Among the spangled grass it played
And drank the dew from flower and blade
Melting the heavy drops to air
That so dragged down the gossamer
"Andernacht" [essay]
What is it that makes the very heart leap within you
at the sight of a hills blue outline, that so aetheriallizes the
soul and ennobles the spirit that so raises you from the

earth an
from aught of the earth Ist it their apparent proximity
to the blue heavens inaccessibleness, is it the humbling sense
of your own littleness, or that immoveable unchangeable mag
nificence of th
pa which has seen the beginning of the world
and will see its end, or is it that the thoughts range insens‐
ibly from the things created to him who created them. I
know not How it thrilled through me when first, far away
across the lake like swell of the blue
waters of that wondrous
river rose the cloudy outline of the blue mountains Long time
has past over me since I saw the swell of a blue hill I have
longed for them, I have yearned for them as an exile yearns
for his native land, and I am with them, —. We left Co‐
on a misty summer morning, its many turreted spires
rising colossally but grey and faint amid the wreathing
columns of mist that smoked upward from the course
of the Broad Rhine. There was the huge cathedral, dark
with the confused richness of its own fretwork, and the
remains of its magnificent but unfinished tower 5 show‐
ing ruinlike beside it There were the red sails and
mingled masts of the innumerable shipping without
one sail swelling or a flag bending to the morning breeze
There was that peaceful and lovely lassitude over every
thing that sleep of the earth and the air and the
sky that charms the mind into a corresponding fascin‐
ation of stillness, the very thoughts seem at rest.
We went on we past Bonne and Godesberg, and
Drachenfels 6 and sunset was bending
over hill and
valley when the gloomy and venerable towrs of Ander‐
frowned over us. I love to look upon the crags that
Caesar has scaled, ont the towers that his legions hav
The one is now as it was then, looking up to the broad blue heaven, the others
in ruins.— 7 Yet it
is here, mighty in its
ruin, and majestic in its

decay, but their Lords are departed and forgotten as the waves that then once
lashed their foundations, c Other s
ows have melted and the Rhine yet flows
onward unbroken but those waves are lost in the ocean for ever.—
"St. Goar" [essay]
St Goar is the least and sweetest place on all the Rhine. There is Godesberg
with its hilltop crested with ruins, there is Andernacht, with its venerable
remains of antiquity there is Ehrenbreitstein, on whose cliff never traitor stood
looking out far away over the
sea of rich champaign country, but there
is nothing like, St Goar. It has a lone hill beauty, the little scene round
it is exceeding small, but it has a modest secluded loveliness, d You look
on Andernacht with veneration, on Ehrenbreitstein with awe, but on St
with love 8 There is a voice in all nature, e
List to the rave of the mad sea
Speaks it not eloquent‐
ly, does it not tell of its green weedy caverns and its coral towers
A and the high hills and shelly vallies far far beneath its cold
blue, and the skulls of the drowned men that grin from
among its rolled round pebbles. 9 List to the song of the
summer breeze and does it not tell of the blue heavens
and the white clouds and other climes and other seasons
and spicy gales and myrtle bowers and sweet things far away
How softly the Rhine sings at St Goar, and it tells of the cold
arched grottoes of the glacier and the crags of the far Alps, and
it how it joys to dash against grey rocks once more.
"There is a charmed peace that aye" ["The Alps from Schaffhausen"] [poem]
There is a charmed peace, that aye f
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Sleeps upon the sabbath day
A rest onaround and a calm on high
Though a still small voice speaks from earth and sky, 10
Keep holy the sabbath day

Keep it holy ever alway
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Sabbath morn was co soft and shroudless
Sabbath noon was calm and cloudless g
Sabbath eve is sinking low 11
Oer the blue Rhines sullen flow
He has worn a prisoned way
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Neath the round hills bending sway
Far and near their sides you see
Gay with vivid greenery
Many a branch and bough is bending
Oer the grey rocks grim impending
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Danced the leaves on the bent twigs high
Skeleton like on the evening sky
And the oaks threw wide their jagged spray
On their old straight branches mossed and grey
And the foam drove down on the waters hue
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Like a wreath of snow on the sapphires blue
And a wreath of mist curled faint and far
Where the cataract drove his dreadful war. 12
The Alps, the Alps, it is no cloud
Wreathes the plain with its paly shroud,
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The Alps the Alps,—Full far away
The long successive ranges lay 13
Their firm fixed solidity of size
Told that they were not of the skies
For could that rosy line of light
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The moony gleam of every
Of unimaginable

The moony gleam so far that threw
Its fixed flash above the blue
Of the far hills and Rigis crest 14
Yet russet from the flamy west,
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Were they not clouds, whose sudden change
Had bound them down an icy range
Was not the wondrous battlement
A thing of the domy firament
Can things of such aetherial span
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Be trodden by the foot of man
Are they of heaven, are they of air.
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Or can earth bring forth a thing so fair
Theres beauty in the sky bound sea
With its noble sweep of infinity
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Theres beauty in the suns last fire,
When the lighteth up his funeral pyre
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There is lovelines in the heavens hue
And theres beauty in the mountains blue
But look once on the Alps by the sunset quiver
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And think on the moment thenceforward for ever 15
"Via Mala" [poem]
Viamala 16
Our path is on the precipice
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How far far down those waters hiss
That like an avalanche below
Whirl on a stream of foamy snow. 17
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Ive seen the Rhine when in his pride
All unresisted undefied
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Rolled smoothly on his aged tide
Ive seen the Rhine with younger wave
Oer every obstacle to rave
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I see the Rhine in his native wild
Is still a mighty mountain child
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How racked h upon his tortuous bed

Came up from the abyss of dread
The deafing now with softened sound
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Murmuring up from the profound
Of distance dark where light of day
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Pierced t not the thick damp twilight grey
To the precipices sharp and sheer
Whence the white foam looked up so clear
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On looking oer the barrier
From that
shelf, that hung so hight
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Twixt the far depth and the blue sky
Above, beside, around there stood
The difficult crags in order rude
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Soaring to the thin cold upper air
It Looked forth unnaturally clear
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Jagged with many a piny spear
And here and there a patch of snow
Contrasted strangely with the glow
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Of the red rough mighty cliffs, and shed
A strange cold light through the yawning dread
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Of the Abyssy gulph below
"Splugen" [poem]
Splugen 18
A little cultivated space
Amid the rocky wilderness 19
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It was not so conspicuous seen
Where every mountain top was green
But that a little hamlet lay
With its enclosures, mid the array
Of the dark pines, most peacefully
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And a few cattle stray

Browsing the grass the rocks among
Ringing their bells, and here and there
Poised on rock pinnacles i the air
Looked out from his round glassy eye,
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The mountain goat suspiciously
And drop by drop a little spring
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Down the smooth crag came glistering,
With a sweet tinkling sound, and fell
Into a massed receptacled
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The long trunk of an aged fir,
You scarce could see the water there
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So clear it ran, and sparkled round
Then gurgled oer the grassy ground
Marking its course by the fresh green
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Of the grass blades it danced between
I drank, and rested, and would fain
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have stopped to gaze and gaze again
And rest awhile the wearied eye,
Wearied with wild sublimity
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No, on, the peaceful bourne is past
The rocks around are closing fast,
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Higher and higher towards the heaven
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Betwixt the cliffs our road is riven,
Or twining round the hill side bare
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With many a bend, 20 where the thin

Gan to blow cold, and damp and keen,
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But sharp and pressureless, the green,
Though fresh upon the mountain side
Was now mere thinly scattered
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Now you might see, in sheltered nook
The snow arch oer the icy brook
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With strange white delicate bridgy curve
That the green light shot through above
And round, beneath, beside there grew,
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The Alpine roses heathery hue 21
That blushed along the mountain head,
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Was never flow'r so regal red
If you climbed the scathed old rocks along,
It Looked out the cold white snow among
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And where no other flower would blow
There you might see the red rose grow
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"The Summit" [poem]
The descent Summit 22
Oh we are on the mountain top
The clouds float by in fleecy flock
Heavy and dank, Around below
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A wilderness of turf and snow
Scanty rock turf, or sandstone
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Without a living thing, for there
Not a bird clove the thin cold air
With labouring wing, the very goat
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To such a height ascendeth not
And if the clouds thick drapery
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Clove for a moment, you would see
long white snowfields on each side

Clasping the mountain breast, or heaped
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In high wreathed hills whence torrents leaped
And gathering force, as downward
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To aid the broad
Rhines headlong swell

And andhere and there a mouldring cross
Of dark pine matted oer with moss
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Hung oer the precipice, to tell
Where some benighted traveller fell.
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Or where the avalanches leap
Hurled down with its wild thunder sweep
Him unexpecting, and to pray
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The passing traveller to stay
And looking from the precipice,
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Dizzily down from
the abyss

To wing to heaven one short prayer
One, for the soul that parted there.
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I thought as, by the cross I past
Of far Helvellyns dreary waste
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Mid my own hills, and legend strange, 23
How from dark Stridens ridgy range, 24
One fell, upon a wintry day
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When snow wreaths white concealed his way
And died, beside a small dark tarn 25
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Oerlooked by crags, whose foreheads stern
Shut in a little vale, a spot
By man unknown and trodden not
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Green, and most beautiful, and lay,
His bones there whitening many a day,
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Though sun and rain might work their will
From bird and wolf protected still
For he had one companion, one,
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Watched oer him in the desert lone
That faithful dog beside sat aye,
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Baying the vulture from his prey, i
Else moved not, slept not, stirred not, still,
Oer lake and mountain, rock and hill
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Rung his short plaintive timid cry j

Most melancholy, None passed by,
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None ‸
his sorrowing call for aid

Yet still beside the corse he staid
And watched it moulder, and the day
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When three long months had past away
It was discovered where it lay
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And he beside it. Would that, we could love
As he did. k
"The Descent" [poem]
The descent l
A fearful mountain wall whose sweep 26
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At one sheer plunge six thousand feet 27
Stoops to the valley, on each side,
Is tossed a very oceany tide,
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Of surgy snowy mountain crest
And all along that hills steep breast
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With snakelike coilings, wound our way,
On narrow shelves of rock, that lay
Almost oerhanging, and so sheer
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Twas terror to look down, so near,
To such a precipice of fear
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And far before, and far behind
We tracked our dread ways mazy wind
Continuous, and descending low,
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At length looked up to the white snow,
From the deep valley, it would seem,
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Incredible, a very dream
That we had scaled a ridge so high
Or climbed so near the domy sky
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And we wound, on, beside the course
Of a roaring torrents flashing force, 28
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And many a fall of minor stream
Down the smooth rocks came thundering
Or in white sheets of gauzy foam,
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Mingled with archy iris shone
Among the forest pines
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"The Meuse" [essay]
The Meuse
How be lightly the waves of the broad Meuse, crisped
with the first breath of the morning, as we swept over
the long bridge that crosses the river from Namur,
and looked back on the rich dome of its small, but
beautiful cathedral, 29 as it began to smile to the
first glance th of the joyous sun, that was drink‐
ing up the delicate mists, which clung to the hills and
n the valley in which the fair city reposed
so peacefully, and then plunged dashed along the
valley of the Meuse. I know not, if it was because
this was our first initiation into the scenery of
continental rivers, but this part of the Meuse
appeared to me infinitely preferable, (not in point
of sublimity, or immensity but in that romantic
and picturesque fairy beauty, which is, in many
cases preferable to either) to any thing which I ever
afterwards saw on the shores of the farfamed Rhine.
There was, to me, a great sameness throughout the whole
of the ‸
course of the
latter river, and ‸
to its fortresses, it is positively too
much of a good thing, a tiresome repitition of ruins,
and ruins too, which do not altogether come up to my
idea of what ruins ought to be, m But for the Meuse,
the infinite variety of scenery, the almost confusing
succession of delightful changes, the impossibility of examining


every successive change as you feel that it ought to be seen, and
finally, the tantalizing rate at which you dash away (capital
road) from that which you could feast upon, and look upon
and dwell upon, for—ages I was going to say, months, I
will say, are enough to enchant you with anything. If you
wish to see rock scenery in perfection, go to the Meuse, 30 for
never were rocks more beautifully disposed, more richly and
delicately wooded or more finely contrasted with the amaz‐
ing luxuriance of‸
surrounding scenery. But alas. it was
but a forenoon ride, and the eve saw us quit the magnificent
Meuse with sorrow for the smoky streets and coal wharfs
of Liege, and the round, dumpy, shapeless hills of Spa. 31
"Cologne" [essay]
And this is the birth place of Rubens. Sink these
french bad roads, n f A long days journey over them
under a burning Sun, together with a perambulation
on a damp evening at Aix la Chapelle, so knocked
me up, that I was forced to diet it, and quiet it
And could not stir out to see the Rubensʼ last picture
the masterpiece of the master, the crucifixion of St
, bequeathed by him at his death to his native
city, and, yet more, his birthchamber, — fragment,
"Oh, the morn looked bright on hill and dale" ["The Black Forest"] [poem]
The Oh the morn looked bright o
er hill and dale

As we left the walls of merry däyle
And towrds the long hill ridges wound
That ramparted the plain around 32
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That greener growing as we neared
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At length with meadows decked appeared
Fair as our fields in May; and then
We entered on a little glen
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Those miniature Alps among, 33
All smiling with a morning sun
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Grassy and woody, and most sweet
As ever fairy her retreat
Formed for her midnight dances, o Through
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Tracing, in mazy winds anew,
The spots it had passed oer, as fain
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To run its sweet course oer again,—
Flowed a small tributary stream
That the Rhine levied all between 34
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The frontlets of the fair fresh hills p
merrily the glad young rills,
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Smiling in silver as they sprang,
And merry were the notes they sang,
For they were joyful at their birth
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From the cold prisons of the earth
To the warm sun and open sky,
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And their song was all of liberty
But the dell narrowed as we went
Till, twixt the promontories pent
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It upward ran, and the clear stream
Now forward shot its banks between,
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Fast flashing, till from the obscure
Emerged we on a lofty moor,
Open, and shelterless, and bare,
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And gently undulating far 35
With here and there a patch of pine
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Breaking the smoothness of its line,
Toward the south horizon! q
"It was a wide stretchy sweep" [essay]

It was a wide stretchy sweep of lovely blue champaign, r richly
cultivated, and beautifully wooded, and bounded by magnificent
mountain ranges, here fading away, faint and blue & cloudlike
toward the south, 36 there distinct and near and lofty, with the
green cultivation climbing up their broad flanks. I had read, that
the snowy summit of the Mont Titlis, was visible from Strasburg,
the consequence of which marvellous information was, that I metamor‐
phosed every cloud I saw into a mountain, strained my eyes
with looking for that which was out of sight, 37 and had at last,
very nearly argued myself into a conviction, that blue hills
were white ones until our entrance into the narrow dell above
mentioned, precluded all farther observations upon the clouds.—
A swiss Cottage is a celebrated thing, celebrated far and wide—
it has modelled the Tivolian villas of—Highgate and Hamp
, 38 the mock waterfalls of and crocodile stools of the Coliseum 39
have extended its fame, and much it delighted me when first
the wide projecting wooden roof and carved galleries and external
stairs looked out to greet us from among the dark pines— What
a host of associations and recollections tumbled in upon me.
Mountains avalanches, glaciers, cottages, Hannibal, vinegar, 40 , Alps
apples, tyrants and crossbows, came crowding into my brain jumbled
together in most admired disorder, I thought of nothing connected
the whole day
"Part of Brussels" [essay, part 1]
Part of Brussels
Brussels is a lovely, a queenlike city from a distance, sweeping
up the flanks of its hill, battlement over battlement swelling up,
higher and higher and higher, and the massive darkness of the two
huge square cathedral towrs looming over the
ole and contrasted
strangely with the delicate sharp spireness of the steeple of the hotel de ville 41
. Paris would look like an assemblage of brick kilns beside
it. 42 We saw Brussels at 11 miles distance, its spires rising
dark and spearlike out of the horizon— It was waxing dark
as we entered the city, and the lights began to twinkle in the
few, the very few shop windows. I love to pass through a city
by at night, the hum of the voices rises so softly out of
the obscurity, and the figures flit about dark and batlike and
the cold starlight mingles so strangely with the red swarthy
gleam of the lamps light, s and when you look up, the narrow
strip of sky is of such a dark dark blue, you may see it
appear to quiver with the starlight if you look long, and the
white housefronts rise so ghastly so ghostlike against
t, and
the windows seem grinning maliciously askan
at you, It makes
one shiver to think of it. 43 Cities are exceedingly picturesque when built
upon hills, but for exploring, for circumnavigating, for traversing,
"Oh softly blew the morning breeze" ["Chiavenna"] [poem]
oh softly blew t the mo
ng breeze u
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Through Chiavennas myrtle trees,
And oer the green hills viny spread
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That rose in many a rounded head
Beneath the Alpine rocks of red
And the fresh snow had fallʼn that night
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And sprinkled with its mantle white
The mountain amphitheatre
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That rose around us far and near
Though in such far confusion hurled
They looked to rule oer all the world
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And the white clouds seemed to immerse,
Another ruinʼd universe. 44
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"Part of Brussels" [essay, part 2]

perambulating, Oh woe to the walker,
who is compelled,
to drag himself up their steeps, those tiresome paved steeps,
those hard unyielding provokingly smooth flagstones, or to go
thundering down, his rapidity increasing every instant, when he
is once in for it, lurching tremendously
ike a ship in a swell
jerking, jerk, jerking down, Oh facilis descensus Averni, 45
sed, sed, 46 Ay theres the rub 47 The hotel de bellevue at Brussels 48
ought to have a belle vue, for you might as well scale the
crags of Gibraltar, as storm the heights of the Hotel de Bellevue
whence, for all the boast of its title, I never could discover
more belle vue, than a dusty square, some formal houses,
and a few murky park trees. We left Brussels on Wednesday
Morning 49 for Waterloo. The sun beamed sweetly among the long,
tall trunks of the aged trees of the forest of Soigny, 50 and their damp
bark glistened dewily as it rose up taller and taller, branching off
into the bending boughs and slender sprays each with the delicate
foliage scattered through, here w every leaf defined separately and
clearly as you looked up to the broad sky there in delicate
light spready masses, partially concealing the long
tapery trunks which retired back, farther and
Yet distinctly grouped, and those groups separated by the gleamy
streams of yellow sunshine, which
shone full on
the sides of the swelling
banks then broken by the intervening hollows then climbing
again up the dewy moss and white trunks, It was exceeding beau‐
tiful. I could have fancied the glister 51 of the bright bayonets changing,
like starlight on a wavy ocean, among the retiring foliage
of those ancient trees—I forgot how many long years
had past by since that eventful day.—* * *
This is the field of Waterloo. 52 The round hills of green
pasture laye unbroken before me, without a single tree, except
where far to the right the rich forest country commenced
again, spreading away in rounded masses, till lost in the
blue of the faint horizon.
All is peace now
English men may feel proud
upon the field of Waterloo, perhaps I did, But there is something
mingled with it,—— Poor Napolean The grass is very green
on the field of Waterloo, for it has grown from the dust of
our bravest, Oh tread on it softly 53
"Lago di Como" [poem]
 Lago di Como
It was a little peaceful bay 54
Beneath the precipices grey 55
Lay deep, and blue, and calm, but clear,
Ruskin's line number

As is the sapphire, and you saw
The precipices sharp and sheer
System generated line number

And the white clouds careering war
And the blue sky and the high hills
Neath the cold waters as
they slept
Ruskin's line number

Seemed fed by thousand mountain rills
Flowed upward from the crystal depth
System generated line number

And all along that quiet bay v
A range of little shipping lay
With their red flags drooped downward right
Ruskin's line number

And sheltered by their awnings white
From the high suns red scorching look
System generated line number

That oer the living waters shook
A blaze of hot, and swarthy glow
When we had launched from below
Ruskin's line number

The shade of the tall cliffs, and came
Where Como rolled his breast of flame
System generated line number

Down southward winding far away
The olives tints of gentle gray

Stooped to his borders from between
Ruskin's line number

The hills uncultivated green
And orange groves him girded round
System generated line number

Blossoming oer him fragrantly
And in the sleep of his profound
White villages shone silently w
Ruskin's line number

And from our prow the ripples flash
Threw forth its little sparkles paly
System generated line number

The light sound of the oars dash
Came dancing oer the waters gaily
There was blue above, and blue below
Ruskin's line number

And the gleam of the eternal snow
Forth from the fastnesses it came
System generated line number

Of the high alps retiring th chain x
And all along the shored whereer,
The stormwinds wont to chafe the wave
Ruskin's line number

crucif crucifix is shrined there

That Christ may hear the passioned prayer
System generated line number

May hear, may listen
, and may save

"Of various trees a vista green" [poem, incorporated into "Genoa"]
Of various trees a vista green y
streamlet looking down865

Whose living crystal shot between
All trembling with the leafy gleam
System generated line number

And coolly on a high arch span
The sportive light reflected ran
Thither and thither fast, z and through870
That natural arched avenue
There showed a rich and mighty plain
System generated line number

Rolling its wooded waves away
And through the stretch of that champaign
A noble river wound its way 56 875
And on the horizon to the north
Pale gleams of icy snow came forth aa
System generated line number

From the St Bernards fastnesses,
White as the wreathed salt sea spray
With the snow wreaths that ever press,880
Upon that heaven girt boundary, 57
Boundary meet for Italy,
System generated line number

Most meet for such a lovely clime,
As it looks oer Marengos sea, 58
Unto the Apennine.885
Tis sweet a topmost mountain ridge,
Impatiently to climb,
System generated line number

And there to stand and dream away,
A little space of time. 59
"It was an eve of summer, mild" ["Lago Maggiore"] [poem]
It was an eve of summer, mild, bb 890
As ever looked the pale moon through
That the deep waters were beguiled
System generated line number

Into such rest, that as the blue,
The moveless blue of the high heaven
Such sleep was to the waters
low lake

That as in lethargy it lay 60
Waveless and tideless, soft and grey
System generated line number

As chasmless glacier, cc Voicelessly
The little barks came gliding by
Apparently without a wind900
Leaving long ripply wakes behind,

It would have seemed a lifeless sea
System generated line number

But there arose colossally 61
Beyond the mist horizon, where,
The waters mingled with the air905
The spirits of gigantic things,
Lords of the earth and air and sky. 62
System generated line number

Where the white heaven cloud in his gathering
around them

Concealment everlastingly
The mountain snow, like scattered flocks910
Speckled on high the red ribbed rocks,
Or down the ravines rolling blue
System generated line number

Its crisped surge oer the green fields threw
Flinging the icewaves far and wide
Like the tortured spray of the ocean tide915
On the green of the meadows and mountain side
Breaking broad oer the mountain side

Yet was there such a softness shed
System generated line number

Upon the rude alps stormy head
On massive wood and stormy

Flashing river and polished g lake dd 920
"Aix la Chapelle" [essay]
Aix la Chapelle
Hast ever heard of the peace of Aix la Chapelle,
reader. 63 If thou ever travellest from Spa to Aix, 64
Aix to Cologne, thou shalt find various treaties of
peace have been ratified, which thou wilt not approve of. Thou shalt find atreaty, ee whereof the first condition is. ff
that the postillions whip be not closely acquainted with the
back of his quadrupeds, more than three times in a stage,
orso, gg Item, that the above mentioned quadrupeds, be not
compelled to draw any carriage, chariot, gig, or other vehicle,
whatsoever, at a greater rate than two miles an hour.
Item, that the above mentioned quadrupeds be not compelled
to trot upon the paved centre of the road, but that they
be permitted to draw the carriage, chariot, gig, or other vehicle
afore said, into the beds of sand and dust, denominated
by the postillion, la terre, even although the carriage, char‐
iot gig, or other vehicle, be in imminent danger of being overset
into the ditch which bordereth upon the road. Item, that
postillion be permitted, when upon the backs of his horses,
to indulge himself with a comfortable pipe, and half
hours nap, or so, during which time, his above mentioned
quadrupeds be surrendered to their own will, and gui‐
dance, 65 Alas every article of this treaty was strictly
fulfilled with regard to us, and the consequence was,
that during a half
hours ride of 12 miles, I was first
fevered by the burning sun, then smothered by the
dust, and finally—but let that pass for the present.
A cathedral is a noble, a beautiful, a sublime thing, 66 by
twilight, with its white, fretted, marble columns, looking
out from the dark retiring immensity of the long aisles,
and the faint streams of coloured and variegated light
falling faintly through the Gothic windows, streaming
at intervals along the chequered floors, or ruddily lighting
up the countenances of the marble figures, giving a
ghastly resemblance to reality, a mockery of life, that
makes you start when you look upon the hollow eyes,
and rigid muscles starting out of the stone, hh You
almost think that the dead forms of departed monarchs
have sprung forth from their narrow dwellings beneath that
ancient pavement, and the peers of Charlemagne are rallying
again around their monarch. Wake— 67

Saw s easy chair. 68 Arms stone, back stone
hard unaccommodating independent granite Thin velvet
cushion however on the seat as a mediator Very ancient
affair, product of the dark ages I suppose. Sarcophagus
sculptured, Grecian, basso relievo. 69 The revolutionists am‐
used themselves by depriving the poor stone gentlemen
of their olfactory nerves, alias noses, consequence they
look all terrible flats. Twili ii Night coming on. Left
the cathedral just in time to be tantalized by grinning
at a magnificent picture when it was pitch dark. Last judg‐
ment. jj   I think. kk in the hotel de ville. 70 Returnʼd to
the inn in very bad humour. Off early next morning for
Cologne. Goodnight.
Mountain Sketch [drawing]
Mountain Sketch
Pen and ink, approx. ? × ? cm (image only). A slight sketch of a mountain scene. The peak in the foreground may be intended for a volcano.
MS VIII [drawing]—Buildings on Water with Boats
Sketch of Buildings on Water with Boats
Pen and ink, approx. ? × ? cm (image only), placed immediately beneath the drawing, Mountain Sketch.
The drawing is a slight sketch of buildings with steps leading directly to water, with boats moored near the steps. The location is unknown, but the calm water and heavy window awnings shading from the sun suggest Italy. The drawing was made over top of a previous drawing of mountain outlines, and also over top of marginal numbers 925, 930, and 935, intended for reception of ongoing verse composition, the last poem composed being “It was an eve of summer mild” [“Lago Maggiore”] ending on a line numbered 920 (65r). Between this poem and the two drawings, Ruskin drafted the prose essay, “Aix La Chapelle” (65r–66r).
"Smiling from those bright rays kiss" ["Heidelberg"] [poem, part 1]
Smiling with
those bright rays kiss ll

ng round effulgence moony940
System generated line number

Like a lovely Oasis
Mid a desert dark and gloomy
But a moment— darkly down
Came the cloudy heavens frown
Mong the leaves a fitful shaking.945
System generated line number

Told the hoarse nightwind was waking
Grey upon his mountain throne
Heidelberg his ruins lone
Reared colossally,
All begirt with mighty trees950
System generated line number

Bending to
with the evens breeze

ng faintly by. 71

It was morning. from the height,
Cumbered with its ruins o hoar
All the lovely valley bright955
System generated line number

We were looking oer,
With its silver river bending
Vineyards to its banks descending 72 *
Many a distant mountain chain
Girded round the mighty plain.960
System generated line number

Here the sky was clear and bright
But upon their distant height
Like a monster oer his prey
Rain and tempest scowling lay
Like a mighty ocean wave965
System generated line number

All along the horizon sweeping

Flinging far its cloudy spray
Oer the peaceful heaven beating
"The Rhine" [essay]
The traditions of the Rhine 73 have long been celebrated, and I
hope, long will be so, for the terror and amusement, if not the
benefit, of the rising generation. The two districts of the
Rhine, and the Hartz, 74 have been selected, from time immem
orial, as fitting theatres for the gambols of brownies, fairies
gnomes and all other fashionable hobgoblins, of every shape,
sort, and size, and the consequence is, that a midnight
walk through the forests of the Hartz, or the vaulted cham
bers of Rheinfels, 75 would be considered, by many persons
possessʼd of considerable strength of nerve in the daytime &
in places not haunted, as a very disagreeable, if not pos
itively dangerous affair, mm Marvel not therefore reader
if I inform you, that I considered myself upon sus
picious, if not enchanted, or even haunted ground, as
soon as we came in sight of the crags of Drachenfels, 76
and that my thirst for ancient rhyme or story became
considerably augmented, as we advanced farther into
that wilderness of rock and fortress, which must be
traversed by the voyageur, who passes between Ehrenbreit
, and St Goar. 77 I could not hope for much tra
ditionary nn lore from most of the personages whome we en
n any of our perambulations, judging from
their countenances at least. I do not, at present,
exhibit remember any phisiognomies, which exhibit so
so much of, let me see, a combination of the stupidity
lifelessness, and laziness of the owl, with the ugliness of the
monkey, as do those of the generality of the German pea
santry, and lower classes, 78 and I was therefore not partic
ularly tempted to interrogate any of them, upon the sub
jects before alluded to, until at length Fortune threw an in
dividual in my way who appeared likely to be able to
answer any inquiries which I might make, entirely to my
own satisfaction. 79
"Oh warmly down the sunbeams fell" ["Ehrenbreitstein"] [poem]
Oh warmly down the sunbeams fell, oo
Along the broad and fierce Moselle.
System generated line number

And on the city, and distant mountain ridge, 975
And on the city, and the bridge,
So beautiful that stood,
Tall tower and spire or gloomy fort,
Were made, and shattered in the sport,
System generated line number

Of that impetuous flood, 980
That on the one side washed the wall,
Of Gothic mansion fair and tall,
And on the other side was seen,
Checked by broad meadows rich and green,
System generated line number

And scattering spray, that sparkling flew, 985
And fed the grass with constant dew.
With broader stream, and mightier wrath,
The Rhine had chosen bolder path,
All, yielding to his forceful will,
System generated line number

Through basalt gorge, and rock ribbed hill, 990
Still flashed his deep right on.
It checked not at the battled pride
Where Ehrenbreitstein walled his side,
Stretching across with giant stride
System generated line number

The mighty waves the rock deride, 995

And on the crag like armies ride,
Flinging the white foam far and wide
Upon the rough grey stone.
Beneath the sweep of yon dark fell,
System generated line number

Join the two brothers, the Moselle, 1000
Greeting the Rhine in friendly guise, 80
To join his headlong current flies, 81
Together down the rivers go,
Resistless oer their rocky foe,
System generated line number

As lovers joining hand in hand 1005
Toward the west beside their strand,
They rivers pass full

Like Allied armies mingled band,
Toward the east white whirls of sand,
System generated line number

The river
tosses by, 82 1010

The morning came, and rosy light pp
Blushed oer the bastions and the height
Where traitor never stood, 83
far beneath in misty night
System generated line number

The waters wheeled their sullen flight, 1015
Till oer them far for many a rood,
The red sun scattered tinge of blood,
broadening into brighter day

On the rich plain the lustre lay
System generated line number

And distant spire and village white 1020
Confessed the kiss of dawn
Still multiplying on the sight Amid the forests shining bright qq
As sunnier grew the morn,
We climbed the crag, we scaled the ridge,
System generated line number

On Coblentz looked adown, 1025
The tall red roofs the long white bridge,
And on the eyelike frown
Of the portals of her palaces,
And on her peoples busy press,
System generated line number

There never was a fair
town 1030

Between two rivers as it lay
Whence morning mist was curling grey,
On the plains edge, beside the hill
Oh it was lying calm and still
System generated line number

In mornings chastened glow, 1035
The multitudes were thronging by,
But we were dizzily on high,
And we might not one murmur hear
Nor whisper tingling on the ear
System generated line number

From the far depth below. 1040
The bridge of boats, the bridge of boats, rr
Across the hot tide how it floats,
In one dark bending line,
For other bridge were swept away
System generated line number

Such shackle loveth not the play 1045
Of the impetuous Rhine,
The feeble bridge, that bends below,
The tread of one weak man,
It yet can stem the forceful flow,
System generated line number

Which nought unyielding can, 1050
The bar of shingle stems the sea
The granite cliffs are worn away
The bending reed can bear the blast,
When English oak were downward cast,
System generated line number

The bridge of boats the Rhine can chain, 1055

Where strength of stone were all in vain,
Oh fast and faster on the stream,
An island driveth down.
The Schwartzwald pine hath shed its green
System generated line number

But not at autumns frown. 1060
A sharper winter stripped them there,
The tall straight trunks are bald and bare,
The peasant on some Alpine brow,
Hath cut the root and lopped the bough,
System generated line number

The eagle heard the echoing fall 1065
And soared away to his high eyrie,
The chamois gave his warning call
And higher on the mountain tall
Pursued his way unweary,
System generated line number

They come they come the long pine floats 1070
Unchain the bridge, and
loose the boats,

Lest by the raft so rudely driven,
The iron bolts be burst and riven, 84
They come, they come, careering fast,
System generated line number

The bridge is gained, the bridge is past, 1075
Before the flashing foam they flee,
Toward the ocean rapidly
There firmly bound by builders care,
The rage of wave and wind to dare,
System generated line number

Or burst of battle shock to bear 1080
Upon the boundless sea.
"Continuation Heidelberg" [poem]
Continuation Heidelberg
But climbed the cloud yet more and more
Into the heaven dancing
Till, like the scouring bands, before1085
System generated line number

Embattled armies path advancing
Circling the sun with mazy ring
They wildly on came scattering,
Then darker, deeper, heavier grew,:
Till fitful light the red sun throw1090
System generated line number

Then gathering round the reddening sun,
Throwing darkness drear and dun
On the gaunt ruins ghostly wall
And coursing oer the sloping meadow
Strong was the light, and deep the shadow,
System generated line number

Till rustling through the pinetrees tall,
Came quick the sound of raindrop fall,1095
Increasing fast the leafy rattle,
And distant growls of
Warned us of the
tempest battle ss

Enter then the chambers cold,
System generated line number

Cold and lifeless, bald and bare,
Though with banners decked of old,1100
Ivy tendrils flickering flare,
Are the only banners there,
You would start, to hear your tread,
System generated line number

Given back by echoes dead,
You would look around to see,1105
If a sprite was watching thee
Yet a vision would come oer thee
Of the scenes, had past before thee,
System generated line number

Of the time, when many a guest,
Blessed the baron for his feast1110
When the peasant homeward stealing,
Dusky night the hills concealing.
Heard the swell of wassail wild,
System generated line number

Cadence from the castle coming,
Mingling with the night breeze humming

And, untill the morning mild
Woke that mass of wall and tower,
Beacon light from hour to hour,
System generated line number

Breaking from the windows tall
Of the barons ancient hall1120
Where the shout around was ringing
And the troubadour was singing
Ancient air, and ancient rhyme,
System generated line number

Legend of the ancient time,
Of some knights blood nobly spilt,1125
In the melee, or the tilt;
Or the deeds of some brave band
Oath bound in the holy land,
System generated line number

Such as iron Richard led,
Steeled without, and steeled within1130
True in hand and heart and head,
Worthy foe of Saladin. 85
Or, it might please a darker theme,
System generated line number

Of spectres huge in twilight seen,
Above some battlefield,1135
And mimicking, with motion dread
Past combat of those lying dead
Beneath their cloudy pinions spread.
System generated line number

Crested helm and spear and shield,
In the red cloud blazoned,1140
Thus with wofeast and revelry
Oft the huge halls rang with glee,
And reckless of the withering woe,
System generated line number

Reigned in their dungeons damp below,
Where in the lone hours sullen flight1145
The masked day mingled with the night
Until the prison captives practised eye
Could pierce the dense obscurity,
System generated line number

Could see the fetters glance, or tell,
The stones which formed his narrow cell,1150
t the time the warder came

His dusky lamps half smothered flame,
Flashed on him like that sun, whose ray
System generated line number

And all the smile of lightsome day,
He has almost forgotten.
"Schaffhausen" [poem]
Schaffhausen tt
The eve was darkening, as we climbed,
The summit of the hill, 86
And cradled mid the mountain pine,
System generated line number

The breeze
was lying still
Ruskin's line number

Beneath the forests shadowy,
Long time our path wound on,
One narrow strip of starry sky,
Between the dark firs shone,
Ruskin's line number
System generated line number

The drowsy gnats had ceased their song
Ruskin's line number

The birds upon the bough were sleeping,
And stealthily across our path,
The leveret ww was leaping,
"The lake smiled sweetly and the boy" [poem]
The lake smiled sweetly, and the boy, xx
System generated line number

Who lay upon its border sleeping,
Dreamed that he plunged beneath with joy,
And heard a sound like billows beating
Or like the angels hymns that rise,
From the high thrones of ,
System generated line number

And, as he woke him from his sleep,
(The vision floats before him)
High oer his head the waters leap
And voices murmured from the deep.
“I snatch the sleeper into sleep)
System generated line number

And whirl my white waves oer him.
"Not such the night whose stormy might" ["Evening at Chamouni"] [poem]
Not such the night whose stormy might, 1160
Heroic Balma 87 braved,
When darkening on the Goutes height, 88
The tempest howled and raved.
System generated line number

Upon the mighty hill forlorn
He stood alone amid the storm, 1165
Watching the last day gleams decay
Supposing its returning ray,
Should see him lying there asleep
System generated line number

With Alpine snow for winding sheet.
Methinks I see him, as he stood 1170
Upon the ridge of snow,
The battering burst of winds above
The cloudy precipice below
System generated line number

Watching the dawn. With proud delight
He saw that long and tempest
night, 1175

Drive to the westward, and unfold,
The ocean snowfields upwards rolled,
Bright with the mornings glance of gold,
System generated line number

It past away, the headlon tossing flood
Of changing vapour headlong riding 1180
And lo, the untrodden summit stood,
Accessibly beside him,
"It is said that French will carry you over all Europe" ["Ehrenbreitstein"] [essay]
It is said that French will carry you over all Europe,
over all civilised Europeat least, and that may be,
but it will not carry you over Germany
You might manage with the Grand Turk, but
you will not manage with the Germans, yy Wishing
to see the interior of Ehrenbreitstein, we got a
young German guide, and coming to a place
where two roads met considered him to be going
the wrong way. Here was a poser, how could we
stop him. Nein, Nein, we called after him. Ya, quoth
he. Nein. So he went the way we chose. After
af very hard pull, up an abominably cramp 89 hill
we behold the top of the flagstaff. Here we are, all
right. There was the fortress certainly, but between
us and it a ravine nearly a hundred feet deep walled
up the sides so as to form a very unhandsome ditch,
and two or three dozen impudent, enormous, open
mouthed guns grinning at us from the battlements.
Well, what there was nothing for it, so we went back
and took the other path. 90 This time all was right and
we got into the fortress, first however prudently
stepping up to asentinel zz to ask permission, and he
brought an officer upon us. Do you speak English
Sir. A stare. Francais. A vibratory motion of the
head, and A Nein. Deutsch? Ya. and there we stuck.
Well, we pulled out our passport, but it was in
French and the officer couldnt read it So he looks
up, and down, and at him us, and we looked up,
and down and at him What was to be done.
We bowed, and he bowed, and we looked over the
battlements, with and we trotted down again, having

a very high idea of the height of German hills, the
strength of German walls, the size of German cannon,
and the stupidity of all German brains. 91
"Most beautiful are the paths" ["Heidelberg"] [essay, part 1]
Most beautiful are the paths which scale the face of the
hill which is crowned by the castle of Heidelberg, 92 fairylike,
winding beneath the twisted branches of green woods, with
here and there a grey crag lifting up its lichened head
from the wilderness of brake 93 and grass and flowr, that con‐
cealed the mass of that ancient granite, sometimes
supporting a fragment of the remains of the old walls,
with here and there an arrowslit choked up with ivy,
then emerging on narrow vallies, or steep and rocky dells,
or lovely sweeps of dewy green sward, fresh and flowery,
as ever fairies circled on, and ending on a lofty terrace,
whose precipice base was begirt with meadow land,
at the point where a narrow mountain gorge opened
into the mighty plains of the Rhine, having in its
embouchure 94 the little town of Heidelberg with its river
and its tall arched bridge, all glistening under that
most lovely of all lights, the first glow of sunshine,
after a spring shower. 18
"The foam globes round come riding fast" ["The Source of the Arveron"] [poem]
The foam globes round come riding fast 95
System generated line number

Like snow upon the eddies cast
Forth from his cold & silent tomb
Forth flies the river from the gloom 96
The bars that echoed to his roaring
Those icy bars have burst before him
System generated line number

And now his chafed surges see
Bound high in laughing liberty
Oh frigidly the glacier pale
Bears broadly to the nether vale

Right in his cliffy shivered side
System generated line number

Yawneth a chasm high & wide
And from the portal arched & strong
Leap Springs gladsome forth the Arveron
Seems it an ancient forteresse aaa
All shattered in its mightiness
System generated line number

The higher towers all rent & riven
The battlements all downward driven bbb
And that its form thou now couldst trace
Froze to an icy wilderness. ccc
And that its portal vast & old
System generated line number

All arched by the crisp ice cold.
And through whose chasms of paly green
The shivery sunshine shot between
Or trembling with a meteor light
Or dancing in the billows bright
System generated line number

Smiling aetherially through
The ghostlights of the crystal blue.
"Cont. Heidelberg" [essay, part 2]
Cont. Heidelberg
The castle of Heidelberg is exceeding desolate. Armies
have razed its foundations, the thunder hath riven its
towers and there is no sound in its courts, and the
wind is still in the open galleries. 97 The grass is very green
on the floor of the hall of the banquet, and the wild
birds build their nests in the watchtowers, and they
dwell in the dwellings of man, for they are forsaken
and left and there is no voice there — there is no
complaining in the dungeon, and where is the voice of
gladness in the hall. It is a ruin, a ruin, a
desolate ruin, the husbandman sees it on the height of
the hill, as he looks up from the green valley and remem
bers the power of his ancient princes, and knows not
if he should grieve that there power is past away.
I know not how it is, but all nations in all ages
seem to have respected the juice of the fruit of the vine
"So broadly stretched in sapphire sheet" [poem]
So broadly stretched in sapphire sheet ddd
Another heaven neath our feet
Ruskin's line number

Of deeper, darker lovelier blue
System generated line number

It seemed that we were sailing through
Those aether fields, so pure, so high
Above the concave of the sky
Ruskin's line number

Where nor storm nor tempest cometh nigh
Ruskin's line number

And the moon she sits in her majesty
System generated line number

“All has yielded to it from time immemorial” ["Heidelberg," essay, part 3]
All has yielded to it from time immemorial, eee When Marshal
Turenne attacked the castle in question, 98 it was but a touch and go
The foundations being
were blown up, the battlements were knocked
down, the towers snapt like so many sticks of barley sugar,
the statues decapitated, the carving crashed, the ditches filled,
the castle ruined. but the cellars— Walk into them sir,
walk into them. there is not a rat dispossessed or in any manner
disturbed, fff Why they seem to have stopped firing puffing off powder
here as if they were afraid of shaking up the lees of the good old respectable
wines, ggg Even the timbers of the ca
fashionable cask, (which, following
the example of the ladies now adays has gone without hoops) are
not a whit disturbed, but sit there in peaceful placidity, clasping
each other in brotherly affection: but dry very dry unconscionably dry
And the celebrated butt sounds mournfully hollow, 99 no spl rich
splash from the enclosed vinum, 100 no ruby red fo tinging the joints

of the timbers. Oh Bacchus, Bacchus, come not into the cellars
of Heidelberg, lest thou shouldst die of thirst
"Genoa" [poem]
Now rouse thee ho. For Genoa straight
We did not for the dawning wait
The stars shone pale on Novis Gate, 101
And on the airy Apennine
Ruskin's line number

Whose towery steeps, with morn elate,
System generated line number

Lay southward in a lengthened line
And we knew, and we knew, and we knew
That from Elba to the Alps 102 oer the seas broad blue hhh
Where the wild waves wander, and white ripples shine
Ruskin's line number

Looked the cloudy crest of the tall Apennine
System generated line number

From the Torrents barren bed,
Bound by blocks of granite red,
Came the gay Cicadas song
Wheresoeer the dew was dank,
Ruskin's line number

On the tree, the shrub the bank,
System generated line number

All our scorching road along
Came the gay Cicadas song, 103
While beside our path was seen
Of various trees a vista green, &c. iii
Ruskin's line number

Into a streamlet looking down
System generated line number

Whose living crystal shot between &.
Ruskin's line number

little space of time

And think how wide the world must be
Across from pole to pole
When ‸
that there you look upon
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And is there one remembers not

When first he saw the living deep,
With panting bosom, crimson shot,
Call its soothed billows from their sleep, jjj
That shout The mo
n, from steep to steep.
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When far away to seaward show. kkk
Her first beams solitary glow. lll
hoeʼr thou art, who hast not felt

Thou lovedst to be where seabirds dwelt
To wander on the weary beach
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Just on the line the wild waves reach,
Or watch the petrels flit before
The marching tempests warning roar.
And ocean eagles dark and proud,
And white winged ospreys skim the cloud
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And if thou neer hast felt as if
The ocean had a mind
held communion with the deep

converse with the wind

When broad black waves before it roll —
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I would not think thou hadst a soul.
"Cadenabbia" [poem]
Oh love coolly came on Comos lake
The lovely beams of morning mild,
That oer the Lecco mountains break, 104
And red their summits piled,
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That high above their dim shore,
Their weary winter garments bore,
The broad boat lay along the tide
The light waves lapped its sloping side
And soft perfume of orange trees
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By fits came on the landward breeze
The trouts shot through the waters blue
Like small stars in the heaven glance
Or hid them where the broad weeds grew
With wavy motion dancing.
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Away, away, across the lake 105
How fast retires yon myrtle brake
All sprinkled with a silver shower.
ugh the dark leaves of lemon flower.

Clear, as if near, nor faint, though far
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Shines on the mountain, like a star.
The rock born torrents milky spray
And many a small boat on its way
Urged by a breeze that bore them well
Though unfelt as invisible
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With sunshine on their winglike sail,
Past like young Eaglets on the gale.
The steps were broken. mossed and steep. mmm
The waters sparkling, clear, and deep.
The rock was high, the cavern dark
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Scarce lit up by the jewelled spark,
Of the cold stream, that under earth
Was buri darkling buried at its birth. 106
Nor once its wave had sunned, nor seen,
Aught but dark rock, and ice caves green
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Where the deep waters, as a home
Received the torrents churned foam
We launched again, and downward bore
Awhile beside the centre shore.
Then left the shadowy eastern lake
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Crossed through thick vines the wooded cape.
Struck the clear wave with long light oar
Left a white wake that sought the shore,
High oer the boat the awning spread,
And quick as sun
waves nnn flashed before
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Toward the southward fled.
"Villa Pliniana" [poem]
Villa Pliniana ooo
I love to hear the names of those
Who long ago have past away, 107
Though now those names be claimed by clay ppp
And who would stand where they repose
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And look upon their dust, and say,
That this was Trajan. qqq and below
This foot of mine, lies cold and low,
Earth, which compounded long ago
What held the soul of Cesar.
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How peaceful is the turbulence
Of spirits, whose high deeds long hence
Shall still be told as now,
How strange those mighty powers that hurled
Wide change and terror oer the world.
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Should pass away we know not how
That one would wonder how a thing
So temporary, perishing
Should dare such deeds, or work such change
Iʼ the texture of the world.
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There have been many mighty,
And many more renowned,
The ignoble and the glorious,
Are underneath the ground
"There were sweet sounds mingled with my dreaming" [essay]
There were sweet sounds mingled with my dreaming
and a thousand airy orbs of many coloured light floated
around me, and a bright shower of silvery light fell upon me

and I started, and looked up. It was cold, very cold
and the crisp ice of the July morning shot its long
fleecy crystals over the narrow window  Break the veil
away, and look out. There was no sunshine, the Augus‐
tines of have not a perfectly clear day twelve times in
the year, yet the landscape was dazzling white with
broad sheets of pure summer snow that clung to the
rugged crags as if it loved them, and grew broader, and
deeper and whiter as it climbed up into the cloud, and
th through which it shone like a flood of sunlight
while the tall steep g crags that rose forth of it, past
away into the grey mist.