University of Virginia Library

It was as if two Alpine hills,
Lords of a thousand rocks and rills,
And sovereigns of the cloudy clime,
Had once in battle join'd sublime;
Together dash'd their mighty heads,
Those gray and grisly pyramids,
The footstools to the gates of heaven:
Think of them shatter'd, torn, and riven,
And down the shrieking steeps beneath,
Red rolling o'er a waste of death.