THE noon was past, the sun was low, Yet still we felt his arid glow; From the red sand, reflected glare Deadened the breeze, and fired the air. The open sky was misty grey;
The clouds in mighty masses lay, That, heaped on the horizon high, Marked Alpine outline on the sky. Long had we toiled to gain a brow
1
On which we stood triumphant now,
While the white mist was certain sign Where took his course the mighty Rhine. Hills in the distant haze were seen,
2
And wide expanse of plain between, Whose desert length, without a tree,
Was stretched in vast monotony. We drove adown that hill amain; We past along the shadeless plain; Rested we now where, uncontrolled, The Rhine his bursting billows rolled;