"Oh, the morn looked bright on hill and dale" ["The Black Forest"] [poem]
OH! the morn looked bright on hill and dale,
As we left the walls of merry [Kehl],
And towʼrd the long hill‐ridges wound
That ramparted the plain around,— 1
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,
Those miniature Alps among, 2
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. Through—
Tracing, in mazy winds anew,
The spots it had passed oʼer, as fain
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To run its sweet course oʼer again,—
Flowed a small tributary stream
That the Rhine levied. 3 All between
The frontlets of the fair, fresh hills a
Leaped 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
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, ʼtwixt the promontories pent
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,
And gently undulating far; 4
With here and there a patch of pine
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Breaking the smoothness of its line.