Which well had stood against the Fohnwind’s blast,[229]
Could bar Oppression from their home no more.
Why, what had she to do where all things wore
Wild grandeur’s impress? In the storm’s free way,
How dared she lift her pageant crest before
Th’ enduring and magnificent array
Of sovereign Alps, that wing’d their eagles with the day?
X.
This might not long be borne: the tameless hills
Have voices from the cave and cataract swelling,