"Not such the night whose stormy might" ["Evening at Chamouni"] [poem]
Not such the night whose stormy might, 1160
Heroic Balma 1 braved,
When darkening on the Goutes height, 2
The tempest howled and raved.
Upon the mighty hill forlorn
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He stood alone amid the storm, 1165
Watching the last day gleams decay
Supposing its returning ray,
Should see him lying there asleep
With Alpine snow for winding sheet.
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Methinks I see him, as he stood 1170
Upon the ridge of snow,
The battering burst of winds above
The cloudy precipice below
Watching the dawn. With proud delight
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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,
It past away, the headlon tossing flood
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Of changing vapour headlong riding 1180
And lo, the untrodden summit stood,
Accessibly beside him,