LXXIII.

Once more upon the woody Apennine –
The infant Alps, which – had I not before
Gazed on their mightier Parents, where the pine
Sits on more shaggy summits, and where roar
The thundering Lauwine – might be worshipped more;
But I have seen the soaring Jungfrau rear
Her never-trodden snow, and seen the hoar
Glaciers of bleak Mont Blanc both far and near –
And in Chimari heard the Thunder-Hills of fear,

LXXIV.

Th’ Acroceraunian mountains of old name;
And on Parnassus seen the Eagles fly
Like Spirits of the spot, as ’twere for fame,
For still they soared unutterably high:
I’ve looked on Ida with a Trojan’s eye;
Athos – Olympus – Ætna – Atlas – made
These hills seem things of lesser dignity;

Lord Byron
Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage