--The tall Sun, tiptoe on an Alpine spire, Flings o'er the desert blood-red streams of fire. At such an hour there are who love to stray, And meet the gladdening pilgrims on their way. 665 --Now with joy's tearful kiss each other greet, Nor longer naked be your way-worn feet, For ye have reach'd at last that happy shore, Where the charm'd worm of pain shall gnaw no more. How gayly murmur and how sweetly taste 670 The [Cc] fountains rear'd for you amid the waste! Yes I will see you when ye first behold Those turrets tipp'd by hope with morning gold, And watch, while on your brows the cross ye make, Round your pale eyes a wintry lustre wake. 675 --Without one hope her written griefs to blot, Save in the land where all things are forgot, My heart, alive to transports long unknown, Half wishes your delusion were it's own. Last let us turn to where Chamouny [Dd] shields, 680 Bosom'd in gloomy woods, her golden fields, Five streams of ice amid her cots descend, And with wild flowers and blooming orchards blend, A scene more fair than what the Grecian feigns Of purple lights and ever vernal plains. 685 Here lawns and shades by breezy rivulets fann'd, Here all the Seasons revel hand in hand, --Red stream the cottage lights; the landscape fades, Erroneous wavering mid the twilight shades. Alone ascends that mountain nam'd of white, [Ee] 690 That dallies with the Sun the summer night. Six thousand years amid his lonely bounds The voice of Ruin, day and night, resounds. Where Horror-led his sea of ice assails, Havoc and Chaos blast a thousand vales, 695 In waves, like two enormous serpents, wind And drag their length of deluge train behind. Between the pines enormous boughs descry'd Serene he towers, in deepest purple dy'd; Glad Day-light laughs upon his top of snow, 700 Glitter the stars above, and all is black below.