Memorials of a Tour on the Continent, 1820/Aix-la-Chapelle
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SONNET.
AIX-LA-CHAPELLE.
Was it to disenchant, and to undo,
That we approached the Seat of Charlemaine?
To sweep from many an old romantic strain
That faith which no devotion may renew!
Why does this puny Church present to view
Its feeble columns? and that scanty Chair!
This Sword that One of our weak times might wear;
Objects of false pretence, or meanly true!
If from a Traveller's fortune I might claim
A palpable memorial of that day,
Then would I seek the Pyrenean Breach[1]
Which Roland clove with huge two-handed sway,
And to the enormous labor left his name,
Where unremitting frosts the rocky Crescent bleach.
That we approached the Seat of Charlemaine?
To sweep from many an old romantic strain
That faith which no devotion may renew!
Why does this puny Church present to view
Its feeble columns? and that scanty Chair!
This Sword that One of our weak times might wear;
Objects of false pretence, or meanly true!
If from a Traveller's fortune I might claim
A palpable memorial of that day,
Then would I seek the Pyrenean Breach[1]
Which Roland clove with huge two-handed sway,
And to the enormous labor left his name,
Where unremitting frosts the rocky Crescent bleach.
- ↑ "Let a wall of rocks be imagined from three to six hundred feet in height, and rising between France and Spain, so as physically to separate the two kingdoms—let us fancy this wall curved like a crescent with its convexity towards France. Lastly, let us suppose, that in the very middle of the wall a breach of 500 feet wide has been beaten down by the famous Roland, and we may have a good idea of what the mountaineers call the 'Breche de Roland.'"