The Germans on the Heights of Hochheim

William Wordsworth

Abruptly paused the strife; the field throughout,
Resting upon his arms, each warrior stood,
Checked in the very act and deed of blood,
With breath suspended, like a listening scout.
O Silence! thou wert mother of a shout
That through the texture of yon azure dome
Cleaves its glad way, a cry of harvest-home
Uttered to Heaven in ecstasy devout!
The barrier Rhine hath flashed, through battle-smoke,
On men who gaze heart-smitten by the view,
As if all Germany had felt the shock! — Fly, wretched Gauls! ere they the charge renew
Who have seen — themselves now casting off the yoke—
The unconquerable stream his course pursue.