A winter's snow,-enough to overwhelm SAMUEL ROGERS. FROM MONT BLANC. MONT BLANC yet gleams on high-the power is there, The still and solemn power of many sights, Silently there, and heap the snow with breath And what were thou, and earth, and stars, and sea, If to the human mind's imaginings Silence and solitude were vacancy? PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. THE SILENCE OF THE HILLS. THE windy forest, rousing from its sleep, They cannot rend the ancient chain that bars WILLIAM PRESCOTT FOSTER. STORM IN THE ALPS. 66 FROM CHILDE HAROLD," CANTO III. THE sky is changed!-and such a change! O This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction; once I loved Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring Sounds sweet as if a sister's voice reproved, That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved. It is the hush of night, and all between Of flowers yet fresh with childhood; on the ear more: He is an evening reveller, who makes At intervals, some bird from out the brakes LORD BYRON. |