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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455721" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Hermit of Mont-Blanc</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">High, on the Solitude of Alpine Hills,<br>O'er-topping the grand imag'ry of Nature,<br>Where one eternal winter seem'd to reign;<br>An HERMIT'S threshold, carpetted with moss,<br>Diversified the Scene. Above the flakes<br>Of silv'ry snow, full many a modest flow'r<br>Peep'd through its icy veil, and blushing ope'd<br>Its variegated hues; The ORCHIS sweet,<br>The bloomy CISTUS, and the fragrant branch<br>Of glossy MYRTLE. In his rushy cell,<br>The lonely ANCHORET consum'd his days,<br>Unnotic'd, and unblest. In early youth,<br>Cross'd in the fond affections of his soul<br>By false Ambition, from his parent home<br>He, solitary, wander'd; while the Maid<br>Whose peerless beauty won his yielding heart<br>Pined in monastic horrors ! Near his sill<br>A little cross he rear'd, where, prostrate low<br>At day's pale glimpse, or when the setting Sun<br>Tissued the western sky with streamy gold,<br>His Orisons he pour'd, for her, whose hours<br>Were wasted in oblivion. Winters pass'd,<br>And Summers faded, slow, unchearly all<br>To the lone HERMIT'S sorrows: For, still, Love<br>A dark, though unpolluted altar, rear'd<br>On the white waste of wonders!<br>From the peak<br>Which mark'd his neighb'ring Hut, his humid Eye<br>Oft wander'd o'er the rich expanse below;<br>Oft trac'd the glow of vegetating Spring,<br>The full-blown Summer splendours, and the hue<br>Of tawny scenes Autumnal: Vineyards vast,<br>Clothing the upland scene, and spreading wide<br>The promised tide nectareous; while for him<br>The liquid lapse of the slow brook was seen<br>Flashing amid the trees, its silv'ry wave!<br>Far distant, the blue mist of waters rose<br>Veiling the ridgy outline, faintly grey,<br>Blended with clouds, and shutting out the Sun.<br>The Seasons still revolv'd, and still was he<br>By all forgotten, save by her, whose breast<br>Sigh'd in responsive sadness to the gale<br>That swept her prison turrets. Five long years,<br>Had seen his graces wither ere his Spring<br>Of life was wasted. From the social scenes<br>Of human energy an alien driv'n,<br>He almost had forgot the face of Man.--<br>No voice had met his ear, save, when perchance<br>The Pilgrim wand'rer, or the Goatherd Swain,<br>Bewilder'd in the starless midnight hour<br>Implored the HERMIT'S aid, the HERMIT'S pray'rs;<br>And nothing loath by pity or by pray'r<br>Was he, to save the wretched. On the top<br>Of his low rushy Dome, a tinkling bell<br>Oft told the weary Trav'ller to approach<br>Fearless of danger. The small silver sound<br>In quick vibrations echo'd down the dell<br>To the dim valley's quiet, while the breeze<br>Slept on the glassy LEMAN. Thus he past<br>His melancholy days, an alien Man<br>From all the joys of social intercourse,<br>Alone, unpitied, by the world forgot!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His Scrip each morning bore the day's repast<br>Gather'd on summits, mingling with the clouds,<br>From whose bleak altitude the Eye look'd down<br>While fast the giddy brain was rock'd by fear.<br>Oft would he start from visionary rest<br>When roaming wolves their midnight chorus howl'd,<br>Or blasts infuriate shatter'd the white cliffs,<br>While the huge fragments, rifted by the storm,<br>Plung'd to the dell below. Oft would he sit<br>In silent sadness on the jutting block<br>Of snow-encrusted ice, and, shudd'ring mark<br>(Amid the wonders of the frozen world)<br>Dissolving pyramids, and threatening peaks,<br>Hang o'er his hovel, terribly Sublime.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And oft, when Summer breath'd ambrosial gales,<br>Soft sailing o'er the waste of printless dew<br>Or twilight gossamer, his pensive gaze<br>Trac'd the swift storm advancing, whose broad wing<br>Blacken'd the rushy dome of his low Hut;<br>While the pale lightning smote the pathless top<br>Of tow'ring CENIS, scatt'ring high and wide<br>A mist of fleecy Snow. Then would he hear,<br>(While MEM'RY brought to view his happier days)<br>The tumbling torrent, bursting wildly forth<br>From its thaw'd prison, sweep the shaggy cliff<br>Vast and Stupendous ! strength'ning as it fell,<br>And delving, 'mid the snow, a cavern rude!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So liv'd the HERMIT, like an hardy Tree<br>Plac'd on a mountain's solitary brow,<br>And destin'd, thro' the Seasons, to endure<br>Their wond'rous changes. To behold the face<br>Of ever-varying Nature, and to mark<br>In each grand lineament, the work of GOD!<br>And happier he, in total Solitude<br>Than the poor toil-worn wretch, whose ardent Soul<br>That GOD has nobly organiz'd, but taught,<br>For purposes unknown, to bear the scourge<br>Of sharp adversity, and vulgar pride.<br>Happier, O ! happier far, than those who feel,<br>Yet live amongst the unfeeling ! feeding still<br>The throbbing heart, with anguish, or with Scorn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One dreary night when Winter's icy breath<br>Half petrified the scene, when not a star<br>Gleam'd o'er the black infinity of space,<br>Sudden, the HERMIT started from his couch<br>Fear-struck and trembling! Ev'ry limb was shook<br>With painful agitation. On his cheek<br>The blanch'd interpreter of horror mute<br>Sat terribly impressive! In his breast<br>The ruddy fount of life convulsive flow'd<br>And his broad eyes, fix'd motionless as death,<br>Gaz'd vacantly aghast ! His feeble lamp<br>Was wasting rapidly; the biting gale<br>Pierc'd the thin texture of his narrow cell;<br>And Silence, like a fearful centinel<br>Marking the peril which awaited near,<br>Conspir'd with sullen Night, to wrap the scene<br>In tenfold horrors. Thrice he rose; and thrice<br>His feet recoil'd; and still the livid flame<br>Lengthen'd and quiver'd as the moaning wind<br>Pass'd thro' the rushy crevice, while his heart<br>Beat, like the death-watch, in his shudd'ring breast.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like the pale Image of Despair he sat,<br>The cold drops pacing down his hollow cheek,<br>When a deep groan assail'd his startled ear,<br>And rous'd him into action. To the sill<br>Of his low hovel he rush'd forth, (for fear<br>Will sometimes take the shape of fortitude,<br>And force men into bravery) and soon<br>The wicker bolt unfasten'd. The swift blast,<br>Now unrestrain'd, flew by; and in its course<br>The quiv'ring lamp extinguish'd, and again<br>His soul was thrill'd with terror. On he went,<br>E'en to the snow-fring'd margin of the cragg,<br>Which to his citadel a platform made<br>Slipp'ry and perilous! 'Twas darkness, all!<br>All, solitary gloom!--The concave vast<br>Of Heav'n frown'd chaos; for all varied things<br>Of air, and earth, and waters, blended, lost<br>Their forms, in blank oblivion ! Yet not long<br>Did Nature wear her sable panoply,<br>For, while the HERMIT listen'd, from below<br>A stream of light ascended, spreading round<br>A partial view of trackless solitudes;<br>And mingling voices seem'd, with busy hum,<br>To break the spell of horrors. Down the steep<br>The HERMIT hasten'd, when a shriek of death<br>Re-echoed to the valley. As he flew,<br>(The treach'rous pathway yielding to his speed,)<br>Half hoping, half despairing, to the scene<br>Of wonder-waking anguish, suddenly<br>The torches were extinct; and second night<br>Came doubly hideous, while the hollow tongues<br>Of cavern'd winds, with melancholy sound<br>Increas'd the HERMIT'S fears. Four freezing hours<br>He watch'd and pray'd: and now the glimm'ring dawn<br>Peer'd on the Eastern Summits; (the blue light<br>Shedding cold lustre on the colder brows<br>Of Alpine desarts;) while the filmy wing<br>Of weeping Twilight, swept the naked plains<br>Of the Lombardian landscape.<br>On his knees<br>The ANCHORET blest Heav'n, that he had 'scap'd<br>The many perilous and fearful falls<br>Of waters wild and foamy, tumbling fast<br>From the shagg'd altitude. But, ere his pray'rs<br>Rose to their destin'd Heav'n, another sight,<br>Than all preceding far more terrible,<br>Palsied devotion's ardour. On the Snow,<br>Dappled with ruby drops, a track was made<br>By steps precipitate; a rugged path<br>Down the steep frozen chasm had mark'd the fate<br>Of some night traveller, whose bleeding form<br>Had toppled from the Summit. Lower still<br>The ANCHORET descended, 'till arrived<br>At the first ridge of silv'ry battlements,<br>Where, lifeless, ghastly, paler than the snow<br>On which her cheek repos'd, his darling Maid<br>Slept in the dream of Death ! Frantic and wild<br>He clasp'd her stiff'ning form, and bath'd with tears<br>The lilies of her bosom,--icy cold--<br>Yet beautiful and spotless.<br>Now, afar<br>The wond'ring HERMIT heard the clang of arms<br>Re-echoing from the valley: the white cliffs<br>Trembled as though an Earthquake shook their base<br>With terrible concussion ! Thund'ring peals<br>From warfare's brazen throat, proclaim'd th' approach<br>Of conquering legions: onward they extend<br>Their dauntless columns ! In the foremost group<br>A Ruffian met the HERMIT'S startled Eyes<br>Like Hell's worst Demon ! For his murd'rous hands<br>Were smear'd with gore; and on his daring breast<br>A golden cross, suspended, bore the name<br>Of his ill-fated Victim!--ANCHORET!<br>Thy VESTAL Saint, by his unhallow'd hands<br>Torn from RELIGION'S Altar, had been made<br>The sport of a dark Fiend, whose recreant Soul<br>Had sham'd the cause of Valour ! To his cell<br>The Soul-struck Exile turn'd his trembling feet,<br>And after three lone weeks, of pain and pray'r,<br>Shrunk from the scene of Solitude--and DIED!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mary+Darby+Robinson">Mary Darby Robinson</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455721" data-title="The Hermit of Mont-Blanc de Mary Darby Robinson" data-description="High, on the Solitude of Alpine Hills, O'er-topping the grand imag'ry of Nature, Where one eternal winter seem'd to reign; An HERMIT'S threshold, carpetted with moss, Diversified the Scene. Above the flakes Of silv'ry snow, full many a modest flow..."></div> </div> </div>
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