II.
Did the land sleep? The woodman’s axe had ceased
Its ringing notes upon the beech and plane;
The grapes were gather’d in; the vintage feast
Was closed upon the hills, the reaper’s strain
Hush’d by the streams; the year was in its wane,
The night in its mid watch—it was a time
E’en mark’d and hallow’d unto slumber’s reign;
But thoughts were stirring, restless and sublime,
And o’er his white Alps moved the spirit of the clime.