Sonnet XV. To Schiller

Schiller! that hour I would have wished to die,
  If thro' the shudd'ring midnight I had sent
  From the dark Dungeon of the Tower time-rent
That fearful voice, a famished Father's cry--
That in no after moment aught less vast
  Might stamp  me mortal! A triumphant shout
  Black Horror screamed, and all her goblin rout
From the more with'ring scene diminished past.
Ah! Bard tremendous in sublimity!
  Could I behold thee in thy loftier mood,
  Wand'ring at eve with finely frenzied eye
Beneath some vast old tempest-swinging wood!
Awhile with mute awe gazing I would brood,
  Then weep aloud in a wild ecstasy!