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I send the lilies given to me;
Though long before thy hand they touch,
For I have cherish'd them as dear,
The river nobly foams and flows,
Could thy dear eyes in following mine
Still sweeten more these banks of Rhine!
By Coblenz, on a rise of gentle ground,
Falling for France, whose rights he battled to resumé.
Brief, brave, and glorious was his young career,
The whiteness of his soul, and thus men o'er him wept, 12
Here Ehrenbreitstein, 13 with her shattered wall Black with the miner's blast, upon her height Yet shows of what she was, when shell and ball Rebounding idly on her strength did light; A tower of victory! from whence the flight Of baffled foes was watch'd along the plain: But Peace destroy'd what War could never blight, And laid those proud roofs bare to Summer's rain On which the iron shower for years had pour'd in vain.
Adieu to thee, fair Rhine! How long' delighted The stranger fain would linger on his way! Thine is a scene alike where souls united Or lonely Contemplation thus might stray; And could the ceaseless vultures cease to prey On self-condemning bosoms, it were here, Where Nature, nor too sombre nor too gay, Wild but not rude, awful yet not austere, Is to the mellow Earth as Autumn to the
Adieu to thee again! a vain adieu!
There can be no farewell to scene like thine;
And if reluctantly the eyes resign
Their cherish'd gaze upon thee, lovely Rhine!
The brilliant, fair, and soft, the glories of old days,
The negligently grand, the fruitful bloom
The forest's growth, and Gothic walls between,
A race of faces happy as the
Whose fertile bounties here extend to all,
Still springing o'er thy banks, though Empires near them fall.
But these recede. Above me are the Alps,
Of cold sublimity, where forms and falls
How Earth may pierce to Heaven, yet leave vain inan below.
But ere these matchless heights I dare to scan,
Themselves their monument; the Stygian coast Unsepulchred they roam'd, and shrick'd each wandering ghost. 14