No More Learning

my soul awake,
Lo! Fear looks silent down on Uri's lake;
Where by the unpathwayed margin still and dread
Was never heard the plodding peasant's tread: 1815. ]


[Variant 61:

1845.

Tower like a wall the naked rocks, or reach
Far o'er the secret water dark with beech; 1815.

Tower-like rise up the naked rocks, or stretch 1836. ]


[Variant 62:

1845.

More high, to where creation seems to end,
Shade above shade the desert pines ascend. 1815.

. . . the aerial pines . . . 1820.
Shade above shade, the aerial pines ascend,
Nor stop but where creation seems to end. 1836. ]


[Variant 63:

1845.

(Compressing eight lines into four. )

Yet, with his infants, man undaunted creeps
And hangs his small wood-hut upon the steeps,
Where'er, below, amid the savage scene
Peeps out a little speck of smiling green.
A garden-plot the mountain air perfumes,
Mid the dark pines a little orchard blooms;
A zig-zag path from the domestic skiff,
Threading the painful crag, surmounts the cliff. 1815.

. . . wood-cabin on the steeps. 1820.

. . . the desert air perfumes, 1820.