SCHILLER! that hour I would have wished to die, If thro' the shuddering midnight I had sent From the dark dungeon of the Tower time-rent That fearful voice, a famished Father's cry -- Lest in some after moment aught more mean Might stamp me mortal! A triumphant shout Black Horror screamed, and all her goblin rout Diminished shrunk from the more withering scene! Ah! Bard tremendous in sublimity! Could I behold thee in thy loftier mood Wandering at eve with finely-frenzied eye Beneath some vast old tempest-swinging wood! Awhile with mute awe gazing I would brood: Then weep aloud in a wild ecstasy! |