THE RHINE. BY LORD BYRON. HE castled crag of Drachenfels TH Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine, Whose breast of waters broadly swells Between the banks which bear the vine, And hills all rich with blossomed trees, And fields which promise corn and wine, And scattered cities crowning these, Whose far white walls along them shine, Have strewed a scene, which I should see With double joy wert thou with me. And peasant girls with deep-blue eyes, Look o'er this vale of vintage-bowers; I send the lilies given to me: Though long before thy hand they touch I know that they must withered be, But yet reject them not as such; For I have cherished them as dear, The river nobly foams and flows, The charm of this enchanted ground, And all its thousand turns disclose Some fresher beauty varying round: The haughtiest breast its wish might bound Through life to dwell delighted here; Nor could on earth a spot be found To nature and to me so dear, Could thy dear eyes in following mine Still sweet more these banks of Rhine! |