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Yet more, the depths have more! thy waves have rollid
Above the cities of a world gone by! Sand hath filled up the palaces of old,
Sea-weed o'ergrown the halls of revelry! Dash o'er them, Ocean! in thy scornful play!
Man yields them to decay !
Yet more, the billows and the depths have more !
High hearts and brave are gather'd to thy breast ! They hear not now the booming waters roar,
The battle-thunders will not break their rest. Keep thy red gold and gems, thou stormy grave
Give back the true and brave !
Give back the lost and lovely ! those for whom
The place was kept at board and hearth so long ; The prayer went up thro' midnight's breathless gloom,
And the vain yearning woke 'mid festal song! Hold fast thy buried Isles, thy towers o'erthrown,
But all is not thine own!
'Tis pleasant to wander along on the sand
While fast run before us the sandling and plover,
Bright gleam the white sails in the slant rays of even,
How various the shades of marine vegetation,
While Flora herself unreluctantly mingles
But now to retire from the rock we have warning,
Ah! whether as now the mild Summer-sea flowing,
That Power, which can put the wide waters in motion,
Lone Nature feels that she may freely While the proud Pyrenees lay wrapt in breathe;
night; And round us and beneath,
Brilliant thy crest above the billows wild Are heard her sacred tones; the fitful sweep Arose; and first the infant sunbeam smil'd Of winds across the steep,
Warm on thy splendid bosom; still tby form Through withered bents-romantic note and Climbs like the warring Titan in the storm; clear,
And snows that hill and lowly valley drowo, Meet for a bermit's ear,
Exalt the splendour of thy glittering crown;
Nobly it swells like foam upon the main, The wheeling kite's wild, solitary cry, The brightest pearl of all the splendid chain: And, scarcely heard so high,
A tumulus to some proud chieftain rais'd The dashing waters, when the air is still, By warring demi-gods, the summit glaz'd From many a torrent rill,
With ice and frosted silver; when the gale That winds unseen beneath the shaggy fell, Strips from its ivory breast the misty veil, Track'd by the blue mist well:
It seems all bright in renovated bloom, Such sounds as make deep silence in the Asculptur'd Venus, springing from the tomb; heart,
The mammoth of the mountains! proudest For thought to do her part.
Cold as the vestal's bosom, and as pare.
Drest in his silver robes the monarch towers,
And glitters in the moonbeams; mellow ANON.
showers Sire of the stormy Alps ! majestic power! Of light descending on his glistning crest, On whom the battling winds tremendous Fall sweet as dew upon the lily's breast; shower
A nurse, whose paps those mighty floods The fury of the heavens--hail, snow, and supply, rain;
That else would see their stony channels dry; And lightning pours its arrowy fires in vain! A barrier plac'd by heaven, a pathless mound, Cold at thy feet, like sparkles on the wave, To guard sweet Italy's enchanted ground, The thunderbolt falls harmless ; from the And fence her gardens from the spoiler's grave
hands, Of Chaos first thy temples rose to light, And all the northern clime's ferocious bands.
THE ASCENT OF THE GREAT ST. BERNARD.
Have ye dwelt in the land of the brave and the free?
Have ye liv'd in the keen mountain air ?
Or to view the rough Alpine chasseur ?
Have ye climb'd the bigh mountain, and trod the deep snow?
Have ye wander'd with joy o'er the plain?
With delight softly mingled with pain ?