LOVE AND DEATH.
43
And o'er those bright mountains and beautiful valesSweet tones, floating lightly on morning's soft gales,Said, "Peace to the mountains, and peace to the vales,"From voice of a being sent down from above;The name of this heavenly being was Love,Once, Death in his terrible majesty came;No one knew his presence, no one knew his name,Till over those mountains the shadows fell fast,And wild tones that floated on midnight's fierce blastCried, "Woe to the mountains, and woe to the vales!Howl wildly, ye night winds, upon the dark mountains; Sweep, tempests of midnight, through green vales below;Ere sunbeams of morn gild the clear, gushing fountains, Each heart shall have felt the dread presence of woe.Fly swiftly, O Love! who already too longHast gladdened these mountains with beauty and song;I'll drive thee away from these regions at last,And send thee a wand'rer on midnight's fierce blast." But Love firmly stood with a calm, beaming eye:"Death, I am the stronger, 'tis thou that must fly,"'Was said, in a strong voice, whose deep, ringing tonesWere mingling e'en then with the wild wails and moans.The dark '"King of Terrors" was speeding his dart,His poisoned shaft entering many a heart,