31.12.2010, 18:50
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 braced 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.
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 braced 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.