Silently from crag and crest,—
And my memory’s frozen tides
Melt to weeping in my breast,—
And the snowy surplice glides
Down the Ice-priest’s giant sides—
[Trembling.]
Man, why wept’st thou not till now?
Brand.
[Radiant, clear, and with an air of renewed youth.]
Through the Law an ice-track led,—