'T WAS late, -- the sun had almost shone His last and best, when I ran on, Anxious to reach that splendid view Before the daybeams quite withdrew; And feeling as all feel, on first Approaching scenes where, they are told, Such glories on their eyes shall burst As youthful bards in dreams behold. 'T was distant yet, and, as I ran, Full often was my wistful gaze Turned to the sun, who now began To call in all his outpost rays, And form a denser march of light, Such as beseems a hero's flight. O, how I wished for Joshua's power To stay the brightness of that hour! But no, -- the sun still less became, Diminished to a speck, as splendid And small as were those tongues of flame That on the Apostles' heads descended! 'T was at this instant -- while there glowed This last, intensest gleam of light -- Suddenly, through the opening road, The valley burst upon my sight! That glorious valley, with its lake, And Alps on Alps in clusters swelling, Mighty, and pure, and fit to make The ramparts of a Godhead's dwelling! I stood entranced and mute, -- as they Of Israel think the assembled world Will stand upon that awful day When the ark's light, aloft unfurled, Among the opening clouds shall shine, Divinity's own radiant sign! Mighty Mont Blanc! thou wert to me, That minute, with thy brow in heaven, As sure a sign of Deity As e'er to mortal gaze was given. Nor ever, were I destined yet To live my life twice o'er again, Can I the deepfelt awe forget, -- The ecstasy that thrilled me then! 'T was all that consciousness of power, And life beyond this mortal hour, -- Those mountings of the soul within At thoughts of Heaven, -- as birds begin By instinct in the cage to rise, When near their time for change of skies, -- That proud assurance of our claim To rank among the Sons of Light, Mingled with shame -- O, bitter shame! -- At having risked that splendid right For aught that earth, through all its range Of glories, offers in exchange! -- 'T was all this, at the instant brought, Like breaking sunshine, o'er my thought, -- 'T was all this, kindled to a glow Of sacred zeal, which, could it shine Thus purely ever, man might grow, Even upon earth, a thing divine, And be once more the creature made To walk unstained the Elysian shade! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GALAHAD IN THE CASTLE OF THE MAIDENS by SARA TEASDALE NIGHTS WITHOUT SLEEP by SARA TEASDALE HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT TO AIX by ROBERT BROWNING THE SWORD by ABU BAKR OF MARRAKESH WINDS OF LIFE by MARJORIE DUGDALE ASHE LILIES: 2. MY SWORD by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) LARABELLE; CANTO FOURTH by LEVI BISHOP THE MANX WITCH; A STORY OF THE LAXDALE MINES by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |