335

Now couch thyself where, heard with fear afar, [87]
Thunders through echoing pines the headlong Aar;
Or rather stay to taste the mild delights
Of pensive Underwalden's [U] pastoral heights.
--Is there who 'mid these awful wilds has seen 340
The native Genii walk the mountain green?
Or heard, while other worlds their charms reveal,
Soft music o'er [88] the aerial summit steal?
While o'er the desert, answering every close,
Rich steam of sweetest perfume comes and goes. 345
--And sure there is a secret Power that reigns
Here, where no trace of man the spot profanes,
Nought but the _chalets_, [V] flat and bare, on high
Suspended 'mid the quiet of the sky;
Or distant herds that pasturing upward creep, 350
And, not untended, climb the dangerous steep. [89]
How still! no irreligious sound or sight
Rouses the soul from her severe delight.
An idle voice the sabbath region fills
Of Deep that calls to Deep across the hills, 355
And with that voice accords the soothing sound [90]
Of drowsy bells, for ever tinkling round;
Faint wail of eagle melting into blue
Beneath the cliffs, and pine-woods' steady _sugh_; [W]
The solitary heifer's deepened low; 360
Or rumbling, heard remote, of falling snow.
All motions, sounds, and voices, far and nigh,
Blend in a music of tranquillity; [91]
Save when, a stranger seen below [92] the boy
Shouts from the echoing hills with savage joy. 365

When, from the sunny breast of open seas,
And bays with myrtle fringed, the southern breeze
Comes on to gladden April with the sight
Of green isles widening on each snow-clad height; [93]
When shouts and lowing herds the valley fill, 370
And louder torrents stun the noon-tide hill,
[94] The pastoral Swiss begin the cliffs to scale,
Leaving to silence the deserted vale; [95]
And like the Patriarchs in their simple age
Move, as the verdure leads, from stage to stage; [96] 375
High and more high in summer's heat they go, [97]
And hear the rattling thunder far below;
Or steal beneath the mountains, half-deterred,
Where huge rocks tremble to the bellowing herd. [98]

One I behold who, 'cross the foaming flood, 380
Leaps with a bound of graceful hardihood;
Another high on that green ledge