Pilgrim of the imperial Danube! pause 'neath yonder height,
Where a crumbling castle standeth draped in sunset light,
Like a hoary king, stout-hearted, who his throne doth fill,
Though with age he tremble, totter, clad in sliining purple
Climb those towers, and mark the river rolling calm and
Till the frowning mountain-giants dare defy his tide !
Mark where he, through flinty columns, cuts a pathway free, —
Dashes rightward, leftward, forward, throbbing, panting, to-
ward the sea !