Sonnet Xv. To Schiller

Schiller! that hour I would have wished to die, If thro' the shudd'ring midnight I had sent From the dark Dungeon of the Tower time-rent That fearful voice, a famished Father's cry-- That in no after moment aught less vast Might stamp me mortal! A triumphant shout Black Horror screamed, and all her goblin rout From the more with'ring scene diminished past. Ah! Bard tremendous in sublimity! Could I behold thee in thy loftier mood, Wand'ring at eve with finely frenzied eye Beneath some vast old tempest-swinging wood! Awhile with mute awe gazing I would brood, Then weep aloud in a wild ecstasy!