 | Sonnets in Switzerland and Italy |  |
95
IN THE BLUMENTHAL, MURREN
Bring the tired hearts whom Nature's power can aid,
By this world's use benumbed or crushed by ills,
Here to the crescent circle of these hills,
Where sit the kings of winter snow-arrayed.
Hence shall ye watch clouds born, see thunder made,
Catch the ‘Monk's’ music with his thousand rills,
And feel what fear the ‘Trembling Valley’ fills
When Jungfrau roars her ceaseless cannonade.
By this world's use benumbed or crushed by ills,
Here to the crescent circle of these hills,
Where sit the kings of winter snow-arrayed.
Hence shall ye watch clouds born, see thunder made,
Catch the ‘Monk's’ music with his thousand rills,
And feel what fear the ‘Trembling Valley’ fills
When Jungfrau roars her ceaseless cannonade.
And if at all the terror of the place,
The unapproachable weight of wonder, make
The soul shrink back, and sense of beauty fail,
Let soldanella's thousands, and the race
Of sulphur wind-flowers and the crocus pale
Bid fearless love and reverent joy awake.
The unapproachable weight of wonder, make
The soul shrink back, and sense of beauty fail,
Let soldanella's thousands, and the race
Of sulphur wind-flowers and the crocus pale
Bid fearless love and reverent joy awake.
| Sonnets in Switzerland and Italy | |