How merrily they plied the Alpine staff In climbing from the lowland farms and barns! Upward and onward still, intent to quaff The topmost airs, beyond the dark-blue tarns, And silver mists and echoes! how the gales Of Snowdon brac'd the heart our Willie lost Among the wild sweet faces of the vales! How his cheek glow'd, and how his hair was tost! While one poor wight, too weak for that steep track, Sat with the boulders, and the shining threads Of mountain-spiders, till his friends came back; And watch'd their light among the breezy ferns, Their shy escapes and beautiful returns, And caught and kiss'd the wandering thistle-seeds. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPANISH SPRING by JEAN D. ARMSTRONG AFTER OPERATION by JULIET BRANHAM PILLAR WORK by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON FOUR EPISTLES: MIRACLE AT THE FEAST OF PENTECOST: 3 by JOHN BYROM MEDITATIONS FOR EVERY DAY IN PASSION WEEK: SATURDAY by JOHN BYROM ADDRESS INTENDED TO BE RECITED AT THE CALEDONIA MEETING by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |