noon
The snowy Alps like walls of heaven Rose o'er the Alps of green ; The damask sky a roseate light Flashed on the Lake , and low Above Mt. Pilate 's shadowy height Night bent her silver bow . We turnèd towards the faded fane , How many centuries old ! And entered as the organ 's strain Along the arches rolled ; Such as when guardian spirits bear A soul to realms of light , And melts in the immortal air The anthem of their flight ; Then followed strains so sweet , So sadly sweet and low , That they seemed like memory 's music , And the chords of long ago . A light wind seemed to rise ; A deep gust followed soon , As when a dark cloud flies Across the sun , at noon . It filled the aisles , -- each drew His garments round his form ; We could not feel the wind that blew , We could only hear the storm . Then we cast a curious eye Towards the window 's lights , And saw the lake serenely lie Beneath the crystal heights . Fair rose the Alps of white Above the Alps of green , The slopes lay bright in the sun of night , And the peaks in the sun unseen .