| |
| ON the Righi Kulm we stood, | |
| Lovely Floribel and I, | |
| While the morning’s crimson flood | |
| Streamed along the eastern sky. | |
| Reddened every mountain peak | 5 |
| Into rose, from twilight dun; | |
| But the blush upon her cheek | |
| Was not lighted by the sun! | |
| |
| On the Righi Kulm we sat, | |
| Lovely Floribel and I, | 10 |
| Plucking bluebells for her hat | |
| From a mound that blossomed nigh. | |
| “We are near to heaven,” she sighed, | |
| While her raven lashes fell. | |
| “Nearer,” softly I replied, | 15 |
| “Than the mountain’s height may tell.” | |
| |
| Down the Righi’s side we sped, | |
| Lovely Floribel and I, | |
| But her morning blush had fled, | |
| And the bluebells all were dry. | 20 |
| Of the height the dream was born; | |
| Of the lower air it died; | |
| And the passion of the morn | |
| Flagged and fell at eventide. | |
| |
| From the breast of blue Lucerne | 25 |
| Lovely Floribel and I | |
| Saw the brand of sunset burn | |
| On the Righi Kulm, and die. | |
| And we wondered, gazing thus, | |
| If our dream would still remain | 30 |
| On the height, and wait for us | |
| Till we climb to heaven again! | |
| |
