Excelsior
THE SHADES of night were falling fast As through an Alpine village passed A youth who bore 'mid snow and ice A banner with the strange device Excelsior! His brow was sad; his eye beneath Flashed like a falchion from its sheath And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue Excelsior! In happy homes he saw the light Of household fires gleam warm and bright; Above the spectral glaciers shone And from his lips escaped a groan Excelsior! Try not the Pass! the old man said; Dark lowers the tempest overhead, The roaring torrent is deep and wide! And loud that clarion voice replied Excelsior! Oh, stay, the maiden said and rest Thy weary head upon this breast! A tear stood in his bright blue eye But still he answered with a sigh Excelsior! Beware the pine-tree's withered branch! Beware the awful avalanche! This was the peasant's last Good-night A voice replied far up the height Excelsior! At break of day as heavenward The pious monks of Saint Bernard Uttered the oft-repeated prayer A voice cried through the startled air Excelsior! A traveller by the faithful hound Half-buried in the snow was found Still grasping in his hand of ice That banner with the strange device Excelsior! There in the twilight cold and gray Lifeless but beautiful he lay And from the sky serene and far A voice fell like a falling star Excelsior! |