III That her destroying fury was with noise VESUVIUS DREAD, desolate Mount! when first I gazed at thee Bubbling from thy hot lips, and saw the blight Of thy dread power spread through the dusky night, Far down the black slopes to the ocean's skiffs,- Fluttered like moths toward thy devouring flame. Motionless Victor! Lord of fiery doom! Tireless thou burnest on from age to age. No autumn vintage round thy fire-cloven steep,Have charmed away the awful mystery That burns within a heart no eye can see. In the bright day thou mak'st the blue heavens dun, Blotting with blasphemous smoke the blessed sun. No calmest starlit night can still thy curse Breathed upward through the silent universe. Last night we saw thee shrouded in a cloak Of dull grey rain-clouds. From thy crater broke Swift blazing spasms of flame that glimmered through The awful gloom of mist whose pallid hue Half hid thy form, now dark, and flashing now Fearfully whispering words of joy or moan, Nor seer alone of future days o'ercast, The Grecian artist lavished dreams divine; Altars that burned to gods of mighty name, Swallowed the lesser. Princely art and power Sank blood-warm in its grave in that dark hour When thou, wild despot, even to the sea Whose fevered waves shrank from the fear of thee Years rolled. The cities in their dungeons lay But thunderous blasts upheaving from below, By thy deep beds of fire, thy strata old, Yet fearful as thou towerest, seen so near, In liquid fire, as though a melting star And streamed adown thy sides which, gemmed around, Sparkle like some dark Abyssinian queen CHRISTOPHER PEARSE CRANCH. |