But let us hence; for fair Locarno smiles Embowered in walnut slopes and citron isles: 155 Or seek at eve the banks of Tusa's stream, Where, [45] 'mid dim towers and woods, her [M] waters gleam. From the bright wave, in solemn gloom, retire The dull-red steeps, and, darkening still, aspire To where afar rich orange lustres glow 160 Round undistinguished clouds, and rocks, and snow: Or, led where Via Mala's chasms confine The indignant waters of the infant Rhine, Hang o'er the abyss, whose else impervious gloom [46] His burning eyes with fearful light illume. 165 The mind condemned, without reprieve, to go O'er life's long deserts with its charge of woe, With sad congratulation joins the train Where beasts and men together o'er the plain Move on--a mighty caravan of pain: 170 Hope, strength, and courage, social suffering brings, Freshening the wilderness with shades and springs. --There be whose lot far otherwise is cast: Sole human tenant of the piny waste, [47] By choice or doom a gipsy wanders here, 175 A nursling babe her only comforter; Lo, where she sits beneath yon shaggy rock, A cowering shape half hid in curling smoke! [48] When lightning among clouds and mountain-snows Predominates, and darkness comes and goes, 180 And the fierce torrent, at the flashes broad Starts, like a horse, beside the glaring road-- She seeks a covert from the battering shower In the roofed bridge [N]; the bridge, in that dread hour, Itself all trembling at the torrent's power. [49] 185 Nor is she more at ease on some _still_ night, When not a star supplies the comfort of its light; Only the waning moon hangs dull and red Above a melancholy mountain's head, Then sets. In total gloom the Vagrant sighs, 190 Stoops her sick head, and shuts her weary eyes; Or on her fingers counts the distant clock, Or, to the drowsy crow of midnight cock, Listens, or quakes while from the forest's gulf Howls near and nearer yet the famished wolf. [50] 195 From the green vale of Urseren smooth and wide Descend we now, the maddened Reuss our guide; [51] By rocks that, shutting out the blessed day, Cling tremblingly to rocks as loose as they; By cells [P] upon whose image, while he prays, 200 The kneeling peasant scarcely dares to gaze; By many a votive death-cross [Q] planted near, And watered duly with the pious tear, That faded silent from the upward eye Unmoved with each rude form of peril nigh; [52] 205 Fixed on the anchor left by Him who saves Alike in whelming snows, and roaring waves.