Scene on the Grampians.

Nè greggi nè armenti
Guida bifolco mai, guida pastore.
Amid this vast, tremendous solitude,1
Where nought is heard except the wild wind’s sigh,2
Or savage raven’s deep and hollow cry,3
With awful thought the spirit is embued !— 4
Around—around, for many a weary mile,5
The Alpine masses stretch ; the heavy cloud6
Cleaves round their brows, concealing with its shroud7
Bleak, barren rocks, unthawed by summer’s smile.8
Nought but the desart mountains and lone sky9
Are here ;— birds sing not, and the wandering bee10
Searches for flowers in vain ; nor shrub, nor tree,11
Nor human habitation greets the eye12
Of heart-struck pilgrim ; while around him lie13
Silence and desolation, what is he !14