Page:Tales and Historic Scenes.pdf/207

Rh

The weary minstrel paused—his eye Roved o'er the scene despondingly: Within the lengthening shadow, cast By the fortress-towers and ramparts vast, Lingering he gazed—the rocks around Sublime in savage grandeur frown'd; Proud guardians of the regal flood, In giant strength the mountains stood; By torrents cleft, by tempests riven, Yet mingling still with the calm blue heaven. Their peaks were bright with a sunny glow, But the Rhine all shadowy roll'd below; In purple tints the vineyards smiled, But the woods beyond waved dark and wild; Nor pastoral pipe, nor convent's bell, Was heard on the sighing breeze to swell, But all was lonely, silent, rude, A stern, yet glorious solitude.

But hark! that solemn stillness breaking, The Troubadour's wild song is waking. Full oft that song, in days gone by, Hath cheer'd the sons of chivalry;