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Poem	IN Schnee der Alpen - so it runs To those divine accords - and here We dwell in Alpine snows and suns, A motley crew, for half the year: A motley crew, we dwell to taste - A shivering band in hope and fear - That sun upon the snowy waste, That Alpine ether cold and clear. Up from the laboured plains, and up From low sea-levels, we arise To drink of that diviner cup The rarer air, the clearer skies; For, as the great, old, godly King From mankind's turbid valley cries, So all we mountain-lovers sing: I to the hills will lift mine eyes. The bells that ring, the peaks that climb, The frozen snow's unbroken curd Might yet revindicate in rhyme The pauseless stream, the absent bird. In vain - for to the deeps of life You, lady, you my heart have stirred; And since you say you love my life, Be sure I love you for the word. Of kindness, here I nothing say - Such loveless kindnesses there are In that grimacing, common way, That old, unhonoured social war. Love but my dog and love my love, Adore with me a common star - I value not the rest above The ashes of a bad cigar.
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