 | [Poems by Whittier in] A Study of Whittier's Apprenticeship as a Poet |  |
LINES
Written after reading Lord Byron's description of a tempest among the Alps.
“Most glorious night!
Thou wert not sent for slumber—let me be
A sharer in thy fierce and far delight—
A portion of the tempest and of thee.”
Thou wert not sent for slumber—let me be
A sharer in thy fierce and far delight—
A portion of the tempest and of thee.”
Bard of the lofty spirit! thou,
When sternly burst the midnight storm
On many a darkened Alpine brow,
And Jura's cloud-enveloped form,
Could'st smile amid the lightning's glare,
And listen with intense delight,
When thunders shook the mountain air,
And storm-winds swept the caverned height!
When sternly burst the midnight storm
On many a darkened Alpine brow,
And Jura's cloud-enveloped form,
Could'st smile amid the lightning's glare,
And listen with intense delight,
When thunders shook the mountain air,
And storm-winds swept the caverned height!
Thine was a spirit that might well
Rejoice at nature's wildest mood;
And when the tempest fiercely fell
Amid that frowning solitude,
Hold converse with the appalling scene,
Invoke the genius of the storm,
And with a high and dauntless mien,
Confront his lightning-withered form.
Rejoice at nature's wildest mood;
And when the tempest fiercely fell
Amid that frowning solitude,
Hold converse with the appalling scene,
Invoke the genius of the storm,
And with a high and dauntless mien,
Confront his lightning-withered form.
131
Oh! what to thee were sunny rills,
Or flower-gemmed green, or stainless sky,
The light mist wreathing on thy hills,
Or morn's or sunset's pageantry?
The midnight tempest was thy choice,
For 'twas an emblem of thy soul—
The sweeping torrent's awful voice,
The thunder's long-repeated roll,
Or flower-gemmed green, or stainless sky,
The light mist wreathing on thy hills,
Or morn's or sunset's pageantry?
The midnight tempest was thy choice,
For 'twas an emblem of thy soul—
The sweeping torrent's awful voice,
The thunder's long-repeated roll,
Could find an echo in thy breast.
The scowling clouds that hung around
Time-hallowed Jura's storm-proof crest,
And clothed its peaks in gloom profound,
Had less of darkness than the night
Which gathered round thy mental eye—
A darkness fraught with power to blight
The noblest charms of poesy.
The scowling clouds that hung around
Time-hallowed Jura's storm-proof crest,
And clothed its peaks in gloom profound,
Had less of darkness than the night
Which gathered round thy mental eye—
A darkness fraught with power to blight
The noblest charms of poesy.
Haverhill Gazette, May 19, 1827
| [Poems by Whittier in] A Study of Whittier's Apprenticeship as a Poet | |