Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/97

Rh Gray, sullen, gaunt, they towered on either side; Scant shrubs sucked meagre life between the rifts Of their huge crags, and made small darker spots Upon their wrinkled sides; the jaded horse Stumbled upon loose, rattling, fallen stones, Amidst the gathering dusk, and blindly fared Through the weird, perilous pass. As darkness waxed, And an oppressive mystery enwrapped The roadstead and the rocks, Sir Tannhauser Fancied he saw upon the mountain-side The fluttering of white raiment. With a sense Of a wild joy and horror, he gave pause, For his sagacious horse that reeked with sweat, Trembling in every limb, confirmed his thought, That nothing human scaled that haunted cliff. The white thing seemed descending,—now a cloud It looked, and now a rag of drifted mist, Torn in the jagged gorge precipitous, And now an apparition clad in white, Shapely and real,—then he lost it quite, Gazing on nothing with blank, foolish face. As with wide eyes he stood, he was aware Of a strange splendor at his very side, A presence and a majesty so great, That ere he saw, he felt it was divine. He turned, and, leaping from his horse, fell prone,