Excelsior!
Poem lyrics of Excelsior by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
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!
I was appalled to find that no one knew of this excellent poem, and so here, I have done something to alleviate the ignorance of this cold, dark world.
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!
I was appalled to find that no one knew of this excellent poem, and so here, I have done something to alleviate the ignorance of this cold, dark world.
posted by Feanor at 8:39 PM
4 Comments:
PS: I wish I had a clarion voice. And this is pretty much my theme poem. A beautiful song of rugged victory.
I have heard of it but never read it. Now, consider me enlightened.
~JC
Oh baby! I have totally read this poem 568,368,523 times, so that makes the 568,368,524th. Man, do I have sweet math skills or what? I always think of this poem on the right hand page with a picture of this gruesome mega-bearded man drawned on the facing page. Oh, the childhood memories that stay with us forever (only I mostly think that I am still a child).
Ok, this comment is getting dorkier and longer and dorkier and longer. You're a good man, Charlie Yerkes (Evan Brown??).
See ya tomorrow. Well, I won't really, but I just wanna sound like your friends. ::weep::
Darn, I mostly hate long comments and here I go. I guess I'm feeling guilty for not emailing you, mon. With thus words of greatness, I departeth.
I guess that means I check my email in vain ::sorrow comes:: You're still my friend, even if you don't see me tomorrow.
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