Adieu to thee, fair Rhine! How long delighted

The stranger fain would linger on his way!

Thine is a scene alike where souls united

Or lonely Contemplation thus might stray;

And could the ceaseless vultures cease to prey[it]

On self-condemning bosoms, it were here,

Where Nature, nor too sombre nor too gay,

Wild but not rude, awful yet not austere,[iu]

Is to the mellow Earth as Autumn to the year.[309]