Read "The Pilgrims of the Rhine" by Edward Bulwer-lytton online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Eno'! -- my song is closing, and to thee, Land of the North, I dedicate its lay; As I have done the simple tale to be The drama of this prelude!
Farawa Rolls the swift Rhine beneath the starry ray; But to my ear its haunted waters sigh; Its moonlight mountains glimmer on my eye; On wave, on marge, as on a wizard's glass, Imperial ghosts in dim procession pass; Lords of the wild, the first great Father-men, Their fane the hill-top, and their home the glen; Frowning they fade; a bridge of steel appears With frank-eyed Caesar smiling through the spears; The march moves onwards, and the mirror brings The Gothic crowns of Carlovingian kings Vanished alike! The Hermit rears his Cross, And barbs neigh shrill, and plumes in tumult toss, While (knighthood's sole sweet conquest from the Moor) Sings to Arabian lutes the Tourbadour.