Literature/Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Excelsior
Longfellow’s poem of a youth who climbs through an Alpine village and up the mountain pass bearing a banner with the word “Excelsior!”, heedless of every warning.
The shades of night were falling fast,As through an Alpine village passedA youth, who bore, ’mid snow and ice,A banner, with the strange device,Excelsior!
His brow was sad; his eye beneathFlashed like a falchion from its sheath,And like a silver clarion rungThe accents of that unknown tongue,Excelsior!
In happy homes he saw the lightOf household fires gleam warm and bright;Above, the spectral glaciers shone,And from his lips escaped a groan,Excelsior!
“Try not the Pass!” the old man said;“Dark lowers the tempest overhead,The roaring torrent is deep and wide!”And loud that clarion voice replied,Excelsior!
“O stay,” the maiden said, “and restThy weary head upon this breast!”A tear stood in his bright blue eye,But still he answered, with a sigh,Excelsior!
“Beware the pine-tree’s withered branch!Beware the awful avalanche!”This was the peasant’s last Good-night,A voice replied, far up the height,Excelsior!
At break of day, as heavenwardThe pious monks of Saint BernardUttered the oft-repeated prayer,A voice cried through the startled air,Excelsior!
A traveller, by the faithful hound,Half-buried in the snow was found,Still grasping in his hand of iceThat banner with the strange device,Excelsior!
There in the twilight cold and grey,Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay,And from the sky, serene and far,A voice fell, like a falling star,Excelsior!