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Sonnets, Lyrics and Translations

By the Rev. Charles Turner [i.e. Charles Tennyson]
 

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THE ASCENT OF SNOWDON.
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26

THE ASCENT OF SNOWDON.

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.