 | Italy and Other Poems |  |
75
TERNI.
Where stood Salvator, when with all his storms
Around him Winter rav'd,
When Being, none save man, the tempest brav'd?
When on her mountain crest
The eagle sank to rest,
Nor dar'd spread out her pennons to the blast:
Nor, till the whirlwind passed,
The famish'd wolf around the sheep-cote prowl'd?
Where stood Salvator, when the forest howl'd,
And the rock-rooted pine in all its length
Crash'd, prostrating its strength?
Around him Winter rav'd,
When Being, none save man, the tempest brav'd?
When on her mountain crest
The eagle sank to rest,
Nor dar'd spread out her pennons to the blast:
Nor, till the whirlwind passed,
The famish'd wolf around the sheep-cote prowl'd?
Where stood Salvator, when the forest howl'd,
And the rock-rooted pine in all its length
Crash'd, prostrating its strength?
Where stood Salvator, when the summer cloud
At noon-day, to Ausonia direr far
Than winter, and its elemental war;
Gather'd the tempest, from whose ebon shroud,
That cross'd like night a sky of crimson flame,
Stream'd ceaselessly the fire-bolts forked aim:
While hurricanes, whose wings were frore with hail,
Cut sheer the vines, and o'er the harvest vale
Spread barrenness? Where was Salvator found,
When all the air a bursting sea became,
Deluging earth?—On Terni's cliff he stood,
The tempest sweeping round.
I see him where the Spirit of the storm
His daring votary led:
Firm stands his foot on the rock's topmost head,
That reels above the rushing and the roar
Of deep Vellino.—In the glen below,
Again I view him on the reeling shore,
Where the prone river, after length of course,
Collecting all its force,
An avalanche cataract, whirl'd in thunder o'er
The promontory's height,
Bursts on the rock: while round the mountain brow,
Half, half the flood rebounding in its might,
Spreads wide a sea of foam evanishing in light.
At noon-day, to Ausonia direr far
Than winter, and its elemental war;
Gather'd the tempest, from whose ebon shroud,
That cross'd like night a sky of crimson flame,
Stream'd ceaselessly the fire-bolts forked aim:
76
Cut sheer the vines, and o'er the harvest vale
Spread barrenness? Where was Salvator found,
When all the air a bursting sea became,
Deluging earth?—On Terni's cliff he stood,
The tempest sweeping round.
I see him where the Spirit of the storm
His daring votary led:
Firm stands his foot on the rock's topmost head,
That reels above the rushing and the roar
Of deep Vellino.—In the glen below,
Again I view him on the reeling shore,
Where the prone river, after length of course,
Collecting all its force,
An avalanche cataract, whirl'd in thunder o'er
The promontory's height,
Bursts on the rock: while round the mountain brow,
Half, half the flood rebounding in its might,
Spreads wide a sea of foam evanishing in light.
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