Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/311

CANTO III.] Which blighted their life's bloom, and then departed:—

Itself expired, but leaving them an age

Of years all winters,—war within themselves to wage:

XCV.

Now, where the quick Rhone thus hath cleft his way,

The mightiest of the storms hath ta'en his stand:

For here, not one, but many, make their play,

And fling their thunder-bolts from hand to hand,

Flashing and cast around: of all the band,

The brightest through these parted hills hath forked

His lightnings,—as if he did understand,

That in such gaps as Desolation worked,

There the hot shaft should blast whatever therein lurked.

XCVI.

Sky—Mountains—River—Winds—Lake—Lightnings! ye!

With night, and clouds, and thunder—and a Soul

To make these felt and feeling, well may be

Things that have made me watchful; the far roll

Of your departing voices, is the knoll

Of what in me is sleepless,—if I rest.