Wednesday, 1 January 2025

EXCELSIOR

 

                             EXCELSIOR 

“Excelsior” is an inspirational poem written by the American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882).  Two years after his death, he became the  first non-British writer whose  commemorative bust was placed in Poet’s Corner of Westminster Abbey in London.  

The Latin phrase “Excelsior” means “higher; always upward; and the poem “Excelsior” tells the story of a young traveller who continues to march  ignoring villagers’ warnings of fearful dangers above. He even rejects the offer of rest by a local maiden.  

According to Longfellow : The heights by great men reached and kept were not attained by sudden flight, but they, while their companions slept, were toiling upward in the night.

In another quote, he says: The dawn is not distant, nor is the night starless; love is eternal.

Through these quotes Longfellow gives the message of “ steadfastness and perseverance”.

The full text of the poem is given below.

  Excelsior

The shades of night were falling fast,
As through an Alpine village passed
A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice,
A banner with the strange device-
Excelsior!

His brow was sad; his eye beneath
Flashed like a falchion from its sheath;
And like a silver clarion rung
The accents of that unknown tongue-
Excelsior!

In happy homes he saw the light
Of 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!

“Oh, stay,” the maiden said, “and rest
Thy weary head upon this breast!”
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 heavenward
The pious monks of Saint Bernard
Uttered 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 ice
That banner with the strange device,
Excelsior!

There in the twilight, cold and gray,
Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay,
And from the sky, serene and far,
A voice fell, like a falling star-
Excelsior!

                                                            *******

G.R.Kanwal

1st January 2025

 

 

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