“There is a charmed peace that aye” [“The Alps from Schaffhausen”] [poem]
There is a charmed peace, that aye a
Ruskin's line number
565

Sleeps upon the sabbath day
A rest onaround and a calm on high
Though a still small voice speaks from earth and sky, 1
Keep holy the sabbath day
System generated line number
5

57

Keep it holy ever alway
Ruskin's line number
570

Sabbath morn was co soft and shroudless
Sabbath noon was calm and cloudless b
Sabbath eve is sinking low 2
Oer the blue Rhines sullen flow
System generated line number
10

He has worn a prisoned way
Ruskin's line number
575

Neath the round hills bending sway
Far and near their sides you see
Gay with vivid greenery
Many a branch and bough is bending
System generated line number
15

Oer the grey rocks grim impending
Ruskin's line number
580

Danced the leaves on the bent twigs high
Skeleton like on the evening sky
And the oaks threw wide their jagged spray
On their old straight branches mossed and grey
System generated line number
20

And the foam drove down on the waters hue
Ruskin's line number
585

Like a wreath of snow on the sapphires blue
And a wreath of mist curled faint and far
Where the cataract drove his dreadful war. 3
The Alps, the Alps, it is no cloud
System generated line number
25

Wreathes the plain with its paly shroud,
Ruskin's line number
590

The Alps the Alps,—Full far away
The long successive ranges lay 4
Their firm fixed solidity of size
Told that they were not of the skies
System generated line number
30

For could that rosy line of light
Ruskin's line number
595

The moony gleam of every
Of unimaginable
height

The moony gleam so far that threw
Its fixed flash above the blue
Of the far hills and Rigis crest 5
System generated line number
35

Yet russet from the flamy west,
Ruskin's line number
600

Were they not clouds, whose sudden change
Had bound them down an icy range
Was not the wondrous battlement
A thing of the domy firament
System generated line number
40

Can things of such aetherial span
Be trodden by the foot of man
Are they of heaven, are they of air.
Ruskin's line number
605

Or can earth bring forth a thing so fair
Theres beauty in the sky bound sea
System generated line number
45

With its noble sweep of infinity
Theres beauty in the suns last fire,
When the lighteth up his funeral pyre
Ruskin's line number
610

There is lovelines in the heavens hue
And theres beauty in the mountains blue
System generated line number
50

But look once on the Alps by the sunset quiver
And think on the moment thenceforward for ever 6