Classic Poem

I STOOD upon the Wengern Alp and dreamed,
One starry midnight in the autumn time,
Till, soul and sense entranced, I saw, or seemed
To see, a new, strange world, before the grime
Of age had dimmed the wonder of its prime:
Snows, glaciers, Alps, around, above, beneath—
Strength, beauty, grander, awful and sublime,
Where never human footstep, human breath,
Disturbed the rule and reign of everlasting death.
There was old Schreckhorn, with his hoary brow,
The white-cowled Monk, great Eigher, seamed with scars,
And, loftiest of all, the pure Jungfrau,
Like a veiled vestal crowned with burning stars.
By the high walls of heaven, shining bars
Of golden moonlight bound her zone, and where
Clouds floated idly in their pale simars,
Her gorgeous robe, like ermine rich and rare,
Fell in colossal folds adown the purple air.

In the unfathomed caverns, far below,
The wandering winds sung anthems wild and sweet,
And torrents, new-born of the virgin snow,
Mingled their many voices, like the beat
Of mighty pulses, or the fall of feet
That found no rest. Anon the avalanche, riven
From its high home, fell thundering, far and fleet,
Like some rebellious host that God had driven
Down, down to the abyss, from the far fields of Heaven.

Again, and nearer, that deep, fearful sound
Lifted its clamor to the vaulted sky,
Hissed in the air and groaned along the ground,
Waking ten thousand echoes in reply.
The roar of cannon, rattling musketry,
Seemed blended and repeated, o'er and o'er,
From hidden fosse and cloud-capped battery:
As if the Titans, mighty as of yore,
Did battle with the gods on the invisible shore.

And so the hours wore on, and stole away
The silver starlight from the brow of night;
A sudden shining heralded the day,
And the pale Alps blushed in the dawning light.
A crimson curtain fringed with pearly white.
Slowly above the gray horizon rose,
Slowly the slopes and frozen seas grew bright,
But day was drawing midway to its close
Ere the great sun climbed up to that lone land of snows.

He scaled the eternal ramparts, length by length—
O'er bastion, parapet and tower he came,
Like a bold warrior, glorious in his strength,
With a red banner and a crown of flame.
He looked upon the snows, and they became
Inlaid with diamonds, dazzling human eyes
With a great glory that no tongue can name;
As though some angel, passing in the skies,
Had opened suddenly the gates of Paradise.

Eternal Alps! in your sublime abode
The soul goes forth untrammeled, and apart
From little self, expands and learns of God:
There it forgets awhile the busy mart
Where strength, heart, life, are coined with cunning art
To common currency: forgets the strife
For gold, place, power and fame—the bitter smart
Of disappointment, pain and sorrow rife,
Where poor humanity walks in the paths of life.

Ye are unsullied by the serpent's trail
Of sin and death, with all their weary woes,
And ye do minister within the ven
Of an eternity that never knows
The changes of decay. Time overthrows
Man's proudest glory, but his hand has striven
In vain to mar your beauty. As ye rose
When form and light to the young earth were given,
Ye stand with your white brows by the closed gates of heaven.