(From Manfred Act I/Scene I)
Mortal! to thy bidding bow'd
From my mansion in the cloud,
Which the breath of twilight builds,
And the Summer's sunset gilds
with the azure and vermilion
Which is mix'd for my pavilion;
Though thy quest may be forbidden,
On a star-beam I have ridden,
To thine adjuration bow'd;
Mortal- be thy wish avow'd!
Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains;
They crowned him long ago
on a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds;
With a diadem of snow.
Around his waist are forests braced,
Tha Avalanche in his hand;
but ere it fall, that thundering ball,
The Glacier's cold and restless mass
moves onward day by day;
But I am the Spirit of the place,
could make the mountain bow
and quiver to his cavern'd base.
And what with me wouldst Thou?
In the Blue depth of the waters,
Where the wave hath no strife,
Where the wind is a stranger,
And the sea-snake hath life,
Where the mermaid is decking
Her green hair with shells;
Like the storm on the surface
Came the sound of thy spells;
O'er my calm Hall of Coral
The deep echo roll'd-
To the Spirit of Ocean
Thy wishes unfold!