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" Then the mountain echoes rang
“ In that valley, on that shore,
When the graves give up their dead,
At the trumpet's voice once more
Shall those slumberers quit their bed.
“ For the glen that gave them birth
Hides their ashes in its womb :
0! 'tis venerable earth,
Freedom's cradle, freedom's tomb. « In a deluge upon land
“ Then on every side begun
That unutterable fight;
Never rose th' astonishid sun
On so horrible a sight.
“Once an eagle of the rock Till the waves were warm with blood,
('Twas an omen of our fate)
Stoop'd, and from my scatter'd flock
Bore a lambkin to his mate.
“ While the parents fed their young,
Lo! a cloud of vultures lean,
By voracious famine stung,
Wildly screaming, rush'd between.
“ Fiercely fought the eagle-twain,
Though by multitudes opprest,
Till their little ones were slain,
Till they perish'd on their nest.
• More unequal was the fray To the dead they soon return'd;
Which our band of brethren waged ;
More insatiate o'er their prey
Gaul's remorseless vultures raged. “Star of Switzerland! whose rays
“ In innumerable waves, Shed such sweet expiring light,
Swoln with fury, grim with blood,
Headlong rolld the hordes of slaves,
And ingulf'd us with a flood. “Star of Switzerland! thy fame
“ In the whirlpool of that flood, No recording bard hath sung;
Firm in fortitude divine,
Like th' eternal rocks we stood,
In the cataract of the Rhine.* “ While the lingering moon delay'd
“ Till by tenfold force assail'd, In the wilderness of night,
In a hurricane of fire,
When at length our phalanx fail'd,
Then our courage blazed the higher.
« Broken into feeble bands, “Gallia's tigers, wild for blood,
Fighting in dissever'd parts,
Weak and weaker grew our hands,
Strong and stronger still our hearts.
“ Fierce amid the loud alarms, “ By the trumpet's voice alarm’d,
Shouting in the foremost fray,
Children raised their little arms
In their country's evil day.
“On their country's dying bed,
Wives and husbands pour'd their breath; * The French made their first attack on the valley of Underwalden from the lake: but, after a desperate con
Many a youth and maiden bled, flict, they were victoriously repelled, and two of their
Married at thine altar, Death.† vessels, containing five hundred men, perished in the engagement.
+ In the last and decisive battle, the Underwalders * At Schaffhausen.-See Coxe's Travels. were overpowered by two French armies, which rushed + In this miserable conflich, many of the women and upon them from the opposite mountains, and surrounded children of the Underwalders fought in the ranks by their their
camp, while an assault, at the same time, was made husbands, and fathers, and friends, and fell gloriously for upon them from the lake.
“ Wildly scatter'd o'er the plain,
“ Hail !-all hail! the patriot's grave,
Valour's venerable bed :
Hail! the memory of the brave,
Hail! the spirits of the dead.
6 Time their triumphs shall proclaim,
And their rich reward be this,
Immortality of fam",
Immortality of bliss."
“ On that melancholy plain,
In that conflict of despair,
How was noble Albert slain ?
How didst thou, old warrior, fare ?”
• In the agony of strise,
Where the heart of battle bled,
Where his country lost her life,
Glorious Albert bow'd his head,
“ When our phalanx broke away,
And our stoutest soldiers fell,
Where the dark rocks dimm'd the day,
Scowling o'er the deepest dell;
“ There, like lions old in blood,
Lions rallying round their den,
Albert and his warriors stood;
We were few, but we were men.
“ Breast to breast we fought the ground,
Arm to arm repellid the foe;
Every motion was a wound,
And a death was every blow.
“ Thus the clouds of sunset beam
Warmer with expiring light;
Thus autumnal meteors stream
Redder through the darkening night.
“Miracles our champions wrought
Who their dying deeds shall tell !
O how gloriously they fought!
How triumphantly they fell! The Wanderer relates the circumstances attending the death of Albert.
“ One by one gave up the ghost,
Slain, not conquer'd,- they died free.
Albert stood,-himself a host: “ PLEDGE the memory of the brave,
Last of all the Swiss was he.
“So, when night with rising shade Pledge the venerable grave,
Climbs the Alps from steep to steep,
Till, in hoary gloom array’d, “ Wanderer, cheer thy drooping soul,
All the giant mountains sleep ;
“ High in heaven their monarch® stands, Drain the deep delicious bowl,
Bright and beauteous from afar,
Shining unto distant lands
Like a new-created star. * An indiscriminate massacre followed the battle.
+ Two hundred self-devoted beroes from the canton of * Mont Blanc; which is so much higher than the sur. Switz arrived, at the close of the battle, to the aid of their rounding Alps, that it catches and retains the beams of brethren of Underwalden; and perished to a man, after the sun tudenty minutes earlier and later than they, and, having slain thrice their number.
crowned with eternal ice, may be seen from an immense # The lavanges are tremendous torrents of melting snow distance purpling with his eastern light, or crimsoned that lumble from the tops of the Alps, and deluge all the with his setting glory while mist and obscurity rest on the country before them.
mountains below. 73
“ Bow'd to Heaven's mysterious will,
I am worthy yet of you ; Yes !-I am a mother still,
Though I feel a widow, too.”
“ While I struggled through the fight,
Albert was my sword and shield; Till strange horror quench'd my sight,
And I fainted on the field. “ Slow awakening from that trance,
When my soul return'd to day, Vanish'd were the fiends of France,
But in Albert's blood I lay.
On my lips he did resign ;
From the blow that menaced mine. « He had raised his dying head,
And was gazing on my face; As I woke,—the spirit fled,
But I felt his last embrace."
WANDERER. “Mother, widow, mourner, all,
All kind names in one,-my child; On thy faithful neck I fall; Kiss me,-are we reconciled ?"
WANDERER'S DAUGHTER. “ Yes, to Albert I appeal:
Albert, answer from above, That my father's breast may feel
All his daughter's heart of love."
SHEPHERD. “ Man of suffering ! such a tale
Would bring tears from marble eyes !"
SHEPHERD'S WIFE. « Faint and wayworn as they be
With the day's long journey, sire, Let thy pilgrim family
Now with me to rest retire.”
* Fled; and, ere the poon of day, WANDERER.
Reach'd the lovely goat-berd's nest, “Wrath in silence beaps his store,
Where my wise, my children lay-
Husband-father-think the rest."
Till the flash has struck the blow.
The Wanderer informs the shephorlthat, after the ento-
ple of many of his countrymen Iyisg frm the tyranay of France, 1 is his inuenito Lo sedule in some remate
province of America. “ From the Revolution's food
Shall a fiery dragon start;
6 WANDERER, whither wouldst thou roam; He shall eat his father's heart.
To what region far away
Bend thy steps to find a home, “ Nurst by anarchy and crime,
In the twilight of thy day?"
"In the twilight of my day,
I am hastening to the West;
There my weary limbs to lay, “ Prophet! thou hast spoken well,
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,
Silent since the world began,
Dwells the virgin Solitude,
Unbetray'd by faithless man; “Still my journey I pursued,
“ Where a tyrant never trod, Climbing many a weary steep,
Where a slave was never known,
But where Nature worships God
In the wilderness alone: u Stantz-a melancholy pyre
"— Thither, thither would I roam; And her hamlets blazed behind,
There my children may be free;
I for them will find a home,
They shall find a grave for me. “ Flaming piles, where'er I turn'd,
“ Though my fathers' bones asar Cast a grim and dreadful light;
In their native land repose,
Yet beneath the twilight star
Soft on mine the turf shall close. “ While the red illumined food,
Though the mould that wraps my clay
When this storm of life is o'er,
Never since creation lay
On a human breast before ;
“ Yet in sweet communion there, « Midst the mountains far away,
When she follows to the dead,
Shall my bosom's partner share
Her poor husband's lowly bed.
Albert's babes shall deck our grave, “ At the sight my brain was fired,
And my daughter's duteous tears
Bid the flowery verdure wave
Through the winter waste of years'
* 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 wildernees.
“Long before thy sun descend,
May thy woes and wanderings cease;
Hope and triumph, joy and peace !