The thunder of thy cataracts, or paint
The mountains and the vast volcano range
Of Cordilleras, high above the stir
Of human things; lifting to middle air
Their snows in everlasting solitude;
Upon whose nether crags the vulture, lord
Of summits inaccessible, looks down,
Unhearing, when the thunder dies below!
Nor, 'midst the irriguous valleys of the south, 50
Where Chili spreads her green lap to the sea,
Now pause I to admire the bright blue bird, 52
Brightest and least of all its kind, that spins
Its twinkling flight, still humming o'er the flowers,
Like a gem of flitting light!
To these adieu!
Yet ere thy melodies, my harp, are mute
For ever, whilst the stealing day goes out
With slow-declining pace, I would essay
One patriot theme, one ancient British song: 60
So might I fondly dream, when the cold turf
Is heaped above my head, and carping tongues
Have ceased, some tones, Old England, thy green hills
Might then remember.

Time has reft the shrine
Where the last Saxon, canonized, lay,
And every trace has vanished,[90] like the light
That from the high-arched eastern window fell,
With broken sunshine on his marble tomb--
So have they passed; and silent are the choirs, 70
That to his spirit sang eternal rest;
And scattered are his bones who raised those walls,
Where, from the field of blood slowly conveyed,
His mangled corse, with torch and orison,
Before the altar, and in holy earth,
Was laid! Yet oft I muse upon the theme;
And now, whilst solemn the slow curfew tolls,
Years and dim centuries seem to unfold
Their shroud, as at the summons; and I think
How sad that sound on every English heart 80
Smote, when along those darkening vales, where Lea[91]
Beneath the woods of Waltham winds, it broke 82
First on the silence of the night, far heard
Through the deep forest! Phantoms of the past,
Ye gather round me! Voices of the dead,
Ye come by fits! And now I hear, far off,
Faint Eleesons swell, whilst to the fane
The long procession, and the pomp of death,
Moves visible; and now one voice is heard
From a vast multitude, Harold, farewell! 90
Farewell, and