Round us on our winding way;
Yet the mountainʼs purple crest
Reflects the glories of the west.
Rushing on with giant force,
Rolls the Rhine his glorious course;
Flashing, now, with flamy red,
Oʼer his jaggʼd basaltic bed;
Now, with current calm and wide,
Sweeping round the mountainʼs side;
Ever noble, proud, and free,
Flowing in his majesty.
Soon, upon the evening skies
Andernachtʼs grim ruins rise; 1
Buttress, battlement, and tower,
Remnants hoar of Roman power, 2
Monuments of Cæsarʼs sway,
Piecemeal mouldering away.
Lo, together loosely thrown,
Sculptured head and lettered stone;
Guardless now the arch‐way steep b
To rampart huge and frowning keep;
The empty moat is gay with flowers,
The night‐wind whistles through the towers,
And, flapping in the silent air,
The owl and bat are tenants there.