WANDERER. "Wrath in silence heaps his store, To confound the guilty foe; But the thunder will not roar Till the flash has struck the blow. "Vengeance, vengeance will not stay: "From the Revolution's flood Shall a fiery dragon start; He shall drink his mother's blood, He shall eat his father's heart. "Nurst by anarchy and crime, He but distance mocks my sight, O thou great avenger, TIME! Bring thy strangest birth to light." SHEPHERD. "Prophet! thou hast spoken well, And I deem thy words divine: Now the mournful sequel tell Of thy country's woes and thine." WANDERER. "Though the moon's bewilder'd bark, By the midnight tempest tost, In a sea of vapours dark, In a gulf of clouds was lost; "Still my journey I pursued, Climbing many a weary steep, Whence the closing scene I view'd With an eye that could not weep. "Stantz-a melancholy pyre And her hamlets blazed behind, With ten thousand tongues of fire Writhing, raging in the wind.* "Flaming piles, where'er I turn'd, Cast a grim and dreadful light; Like funereal lamps they burn'd In the sepulchre of night; "While the red illumined flood, With a hoarse and hollow roar, Seem'd a lake of living blood, Wildly weltering on the shore. "Midst the mountains far away, Soon I spied the sacred spot, Whence a slow consuming ray Glimmer'd from my native cot. "At the sight my brain was fired, And afresh my heart's wounds bled; Still I gazed:- -the spark expired Nature seem'd extinct:-I fled. *The town of Stantz, and the surrounding villages, were burnt by the French on the night after the battle of Underwalden, and the beautiful valley was converted into a wilderness. "Fled; and, ere the noon of day, Reach'd the lonely goat-herd's nest, Where my wife, my children layHusband-father-think the rest." PART VI. The Wanderer informs the shepherd that, after the example of many of his countrymen flying from the tyranny of France, it is his intention to settle in some remate province of America. SHEPHERD. "WANDERER, whither wouldst thou roam; WANDERER. "In the twilight of my day, I am hastening to the West; There my weary limbs to lay, Where the sun retires to rest. "Far beyond th' Atlantic floods, Stretch'd beneath the evening sky, Realms of mountains, dark with woods, In Columbia's bosom lie. "There, in glens and caverns rude, Where a slave was never known, "Thither, thither would I roam; I for them will find a home, "Though the mould that wraps my clay On a human breast before; "Yet in sweet communion there, SHEPHERD. "Long before thy sun descend, May thy woes and wanderings cease; Late and lovely be thine end; Hope and triumph, joy and peace! "As our lakes, at day's decline, Brighten through the gathering gloom, May thy latest moments shine Through the nightfall of the tomb." WANDERER. "Though our parents perish'd here, "Thither shall her sons repair, And beyond the roaring main Find their native country there, Find their Switzerland again. "Mountains, can ye chain the will? Ocean, canst thou quench the heart? No; I feel my country still, LIBERTY! Where'er thou art. "Thus it was in hoary time, When our fathers sallied forth, Full of confidence sublime, From the famine-wasted North.* «‹Freedom, in a land of rocks "Thus they pray'd;-a sacred hand And their ashes to the soil. "Thence their ardent labours spread, Till above the mountain snows Towering beauty show'd her head, And a new creation rose! "So, in regions wild and wide, We will pierce the savage woods, Clothe the rocks in purple pride, Plough the valleys, tame the floods; "Till a beauteous inland isle, By a forest sea embraced, Shall make desolation smile In the depth of his own waste. * There is a tradition among the Swiss, that they are descended from the ancient Scandinavians; among whom, in a remote age, there arose so grievous a famine, that it was determined in the assembly of the nation, that every tenth man and his family should quit their country, and seek a new possession. Six thousand, chosen by lot, thus emigrated at once from the North. They prayed to God to conduct them to a land like their own, where they might dwell in freedom and quiet, finding food for their families, and pasture for their cattle. God, says the tradition, led them to a valley among the Alps, where they cleared away the forests, built the town of Switz, and afterwards peopled and cultivated the cantons of Uri and Underwalden. HANNAH. Ar fond sixteen my roving heart Was pierced by love's delightful dart: Where circling woods embower'd the glade, I stole her hand,—it shrunk,—but no; With all the fervency of youth, Not with a warmer, purer ray, But, swifter than the frighted dove, The angel of affliction rose, Yet, in the glory of my pride, I stood, and all his wrath defied; I stood, though whirlwinds shook my brain, And lightnings cleft my soul in twain. I shunn'd my nymph;-and knew not why I shunn'd her-for I could not bear Yet, sick at heart with hope delay'd, The storm blew o'er, and in my breast 'Twas on a merry morn of May, Then as I climb'd the mountains o'er, I saw the village steeple rise, My soul sprang, sparkling, in my eyes; I love a rustic holiday. I met a wedding,-stepp'd aside; ———There is a grief that cannot feel; THE OCEAN. WRITTEN AT SCARBOROUGH, IN THE SUMMER OF 1805. ALL hail to the ruins, the rocks and the shores! Or dive in the gulf, or triumphantly ride, From the tumult and smoke of the city set free, From the crest of the mountain I gaze upon thee; And moves on thy waters, wherever they roll, From the day-darting zone to the night-shadow'd pole. My spirit descends where the day-spring is bora, Where the billows are rubies on fire, And the breezes that rock the light cradle of morn O regions of beauty, of love, and desire! Placed far on the fathomless main, Where nature with innocence dwelt in her youth, Beneath his broad footstep the Ganges is dry, Thus the pestilent Upas, the demon of trees, Its boughs o'er the wilderness spreads, And with livid contagion polluting the breeze, The birds on the wing, and the flowers in their beds, That darkens the noonday with death, Ah! why hath JEHOVAH, in forming the world, His ramparts of rocks round the continent hurl'd, And cradled the deep in his hand, If man may transgress his eternal command, Scarborough Castle. |