'TWAS midnight as we scaled the mountain height, The wood pile 'neath the walls the flames devour'd, And as my joyous comrades round it cower'd, They sang of Germany's renown in fight. Her health we drank from Rhine wine beakers bright, The castle-spirit on the summit tower'd, Dark forms of armed knights around us lower'd, And women's misty shapes appear'd in sight. And from the ruins there arose low moans, Owls hooted, rattling sounds were heard, and groans; A furious north wind bluster'd fitfully. Such was the night, my friend, that I did pass On the high Drachenfels, -- but I, alas, A wretched cold and cough took home with me! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WAVES OF BREFFNY by EVA GORE-BOOTH THE TREASURES OF THE DEEP by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS CHRISTUS CONSOLATOR by ROSSITER WORTHINGTON RAYMOND A VALENTINE by LAURA ELIZABETH HOWE RICHARDS A WAYFARING SONG by HENRY VAN DYKE COWBOY VERSUS BRONCHO by JAMES BARTON ADAMS GOLD AND STEEL; THE ANSWER by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON TORREY PINES by CHARLES GRANGER BLANDEN ON THE FUNERAL OF CHARLES I; AT NIGHT, IN ST. GEORGE'S CHAPEL, WINDSOR by WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES |