Uncloud'd beamed the top of silver Alps,
And warmer beat the heart of gazing youths,
And warmer to their fair
Companions spoke its glow.
And Haller's Doris sang, the pride of song;
And Hirzel's Daphne, dear to Kleist and Gleim;
And we youths sang and felt
As each were--Hagedorn.
Soon the green meadow took us to the cool
And shadowy forest, which becrowns the isle.