Ay! their bright youth a glory threw
O’er the wild place wherein they grew.
But this, as day-spring’s flush, was brief
As early bloom or dew;
Alas! ’tis but the wither’d leaf
That wears th’ enduring hue!
Those rocks along the Rhine’s fair shore
Might girdle in their world no more.
For now on manhood’s verge they stood,
And heard life’s thrilling call,