Author: cicora1322
364View
4m 39sLenght

mixed Mont Blanc poem to Not giving in by Rudimental to try and make it easier to remember. Note: The full poem has not been used.... The everlasting universe of things Flows through the mind, and rolls its rapid waves, Now dark--now glittering-no", reflecting gloom Now lending splendor, where from secret springs The source of human thought its tribute brings 5 Of waters-with a sound but half its own, Such as a feeble brook will oft assume In the wild woods, among the mountains lone, Where waterfalls around it leap forever, Where woods and winds contend, and a vast river 10 Over its rocks ceaselessly bursts and raves. 2 Thus thou, Ravine of Arve-dark, deep Ravine- Thou many-colored, many-voicéd vale, Over whose pines, and crags, and caverns sail Fast cloud-shadows and sunbeams: awful scene, 15 Where Power in likeness of the Arve comes down From the ice-gulfs that gird his secret throne, Bursting through these dark mountains like the flame Of lightning through the tempest; thou A lie, Thy giant brood of pines around thee clinging, 20 Children of elder time, in whose devotion The chainless winds still come and ever came To drink their odors, and their mighty swinging To hear-an old and solemn harmony; Thine earthly rainbows stretched across the sweep 25 Of the aethereal waterfall, whose veil Robes some unsculptured image; the strange sleep Which when the voices of the desert fail Wraps all in its own deep eternity; Thy caverns echoing to the Argues commotion, 30 A loud, lone sound no other sound can tame; Thou art pervaded with that ceaseless motion, Thou art the path of that unresting sound- Dizzy Ravine! and when I gaze on thee I seem as in a trance sublime and strange 35 To muse on my own separate fantasy, My own, my human mind, which passively Now renders and receives fast influencings, Holding an unremitting interchange With the clear universe of things around; 40 One legion of wild thoughts, whose wandering wings Now float above thy darkness, and now rest Where that or thou art no unbidden guest, In the still cave of the witch Poesy, Seeking among the shadows that 'pass by 45 Ghosts of all things that are, some shade of thee, Some phantom, some faint image; till the breast From which they fled recalls them, thou art there! 3 Some say that glean-is of a remoter world Visit the soul in sleep, that death is slumber, 50 And that its shapes the busy thoughts outnumber Of those who wake and live. I look on high; Has some unknown omnipotence unfurled The veil of life and death? or do I lie In dream, and does the mightier world of sleep 55 Spread far around and inaccessibly Its circles? For the very spirit falls, Driven like a homeless cloud from steep to steep That vanishes among the viewless gales! Far, far above, piercing the infinite sky, 60 Mont Blanc appears-still, snowy, and serene- Its subject mountains their unearthly forms Pile around it, ice and rock; broad vales between Of frozen floods, unfathomable deeps, Blue as the overhanging heaven, that spread 65 And wind among the accumulated sleeps; A desert peopled by the storms alone, Save when the eagle brings some hunter's bone, And the wolf tracks her there--how hideously Its shapes are heaped around! rude, bare, and high, 70 Ghastly, and scarred, and riven. Is this the scene Where the old Earthquake-daemon taught her young Ruin? Were these their toys? or did a sea Of fire envelop once this silent snow? None can reply-all seems eternal now. 75 The wilderness' has a mysterious tongue Which teaches awful doubt, or faith so mild, So solemn, so serene, that man may be, But for such faith, with nature reconciled; Thou hast a voice, great Mountain, to repeal 80 Large codes of fraud and woe; not understood By all, but which the wise, and great, and good interpret, or make felt, or deeply feel.