| |
(From Marmion)
YET him whose heart is ill at ease | |
| Such peaceful solitudes displease; | |
| He loves to drown his bosom’s jar | |
| Amid the elemental war: | |
| And my black palmer’s choice had been | 5 |
| Some ruder and more savage scene, | |
| Like that which frowns round dark Lochskene. | |
| There eagles scream from isle to shore; | |
| Down all the rocks the torrents roar; | |
| O’er the black waves incessant driven, | 10 |
| Dark mists infect the summer heaven; | |
| Through the rude barriers of the lake, | |
| Away its hurrying waters break, | |
| Faster and whiter dash and curl, | |
| Till down yon dark abyss they hurl. | 15 |
| Rises the fog-smoke white as snow, | |
| Thunders the viewless stream below, | |
| Diving, as if condemned to lave | |
| Some demon’s subterranean cave, | |
| Who, prisoned by enchanter’s spell, | 20 |
| Shakes the dark rock with groan and yell. | |
| And well that palmer’s form and mien | |
| Had suited with the stormy scene, | |
| Just on the edge, straining his ken, | |
| To view the bottom of the den, | 25 |
| Where, deep, deep down, and far within, | |
| Toils with the rocks the roaring linn; | |
| Then, issuing forth one foamy wave, | |
| And wheeling round the Giant’s Grave, | |
| White as the snowy charger’s tail, | 30 |
| Drives down the pass of Moffatdale. | |
| |
