"St. Goar" [poem]
ST. GOAR. a
PAST a rock with frowning front,
Wrinkled by the tempestʼs brunt,
By the Rhine we downward bore
Upon the village of St. Goar.
Bosomed deep among the hills,
Here old Rhine his current stills,
Loitering the banks between,
As if, enamoured of the scene,
He had forgot his onward way
For a live‐long summer day.
Grim the crags through whose dark cleft,
Behind, he hath a passage reft;
While, gaunt as gorge of hunted boar,
Dark yawns the foaming pass before,
Where the tormented waters rage,
Like demons in their Stygian cage,
In giddy eddies whirling round
With a sullen choking sound; 1
Or flinging far the scattering spray,
Oʼer the peaked rocks that bar his way.
—No marvel that the spell‐bound Rhine,
Like giant overcome with wine,
Should here relax his angry frown,
And, soothed to slumber, lay him down
Amid the vine‐clad banks, that lave
Their tresses in his placid wave.
Wrinkled by the tempestʼs brunt,
By the Rhine we downward bore
Upon the village of St. Goar.
Bosomed deep among the hills,
System generated line number
5Here old Rhine his current stills,
Loitering the banks between,
As if, enamoured of the scene,
He had forgot his onward way
For a live‐long summer day.
System generated line number
10Grim the crags through whose dark cleft,
Behind, he hath a passage reft;
While, gaunt as gorge of hunted boar,
Dark yawns the foaming pass before,
Where the tormented waters rage,
System generated line number
15Like demons in their Stygian cage,
In giddy eddies whirling round
With a sullen choking sound; 1
Or flinging far the scattering spray,
Oʼer the peaked rocks that bar his way.
System generated line number
20—No marvel that the spell‐bound Rhine,
Like giant overcome with wine,
Should here relax his angry frown,
And, soothed to slumber, lay him down
Amid the vine‐clad banks, that lave
System generated line number
25Their tresses in his placid wave.