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"Then the mountain echoes rang With the clangour of alarms : Shrill the signal trumpet sang; All our warriors leapt to arms. "On the margin of the flood,

While the frantic foe drew nigh, Grim as watching wolves we stood, Prompt as eagles stretch'd to fly.

"In a deluge upon land

Burst their overwhelming might; Back we hurl'd them from the strand, Oft returning to the fight.

"Fierce and long the combat heldTill the waves were warm with blood, Till the booming waters swell'd

As they sank beneath the flood.* "For on that triumphant day

Underwalden's arms once more
Broke oppression's black array,

Dash'd invasion from her shore.
"Gaul's surviving barks retired,
Muttering vengeance as they fled;
Hope in us, by conquest fired,

Raised our spirits from the dead. "From the dead our spirits rose,

To the dead they soon return'd; Bright, on its eternal close,

Underwalden's glory burn'd.

"Star of Switzerland! whose rays Shed such sweet expiring light, Ere the Gallic comet's blaze

Swept thy beauty into night :


"Star of Switzerland! thy fame

No recording bard hath sung; Yet be thine immortal name

Inspiration to my tongue!+ "While the lingering moon delay'd

In the wilderness of night,
Ere the morn awoke the shade
Into loveliness and light:-

"Gallia's tigers, wild for blood,
Darted on our sleeping fold:
Down the mountains, o'er the flood,
Dark as thunder clouds they roll'd.

"By the trumpet's voice alarm'd,
All the valley burst awake;
All were in a moment arm'd,

From the barriers to the lake.

*The French made their first attack on the valley of Underwalden from the lake: but, after a desperate conflict, they were victoriously repelled, and two of their vessels, containing five hundred men, perished in the engagement.

In the last and decisive battle, the Underwalders were overpowered by two French armies, which rushed upon them from the opposite mountains, and surrounded their camp, while an assault, at the same time, was made upon them from the lake.

"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:
O! 'tis venerable earth,

Freedom's cradle, freedom's tomb.

"Then on every side begun

That unutterable fight;
Never rose th' astonish'd sun

On so horrible a sight.

"Once an eagle of the rock

('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

Which our band of brethren waged;
More insatiate o'er their prey

Gaul's remorseless vultures raged.

"In innumerable waves,

Swoln with fury, grim with blood,
Headlong roll'd the hordes of slaves,
And ingulf'd us with a flood.

"In the whirlpool of that flood,
Firm in fortitude divine,
Like th' eternal rocks we stood,
In the cataract of the Rhine.*

"Till by tenfold force assail'd,
In a hurricane of fire,
When at length our phalanx fail'd,
Then our courage blazed the higher.

"Broken into feeble bands,

Fighting in dissever'd parts,
Weak and weaker grew our hands,
Strong and stronger still our hearts.
"Fierce amid the loud alarms,

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;

Many a youth and maiden bled,
Married at thine altar, Death.†

At Schaffhausen.-See Coxe's Travels.

In this miserable conflict, many of the women and children of the Underwalders fought in the ranks by their husbands, and fathers, and friends, and fell gloriously for their country.

" Wildly scatter'd o'er the plain,

Bloodier still the battle grew;-
O ye spirits of the slain,

“ Hail!-all hail! the patriot's grave,

Valour's venerable bed :
Slain on those your prowess slew:

Hail! the memory of the brave, “Who shall now your deeds relate?

Hail! the spirits of the dead.
Ye that fell unwept, unknown;
Mourning for your country's fate,

“ Time their triumphs shall proclaim,
But rejoicing in your own.

And their rich reward be this,

Immortality of fams, “ Virtue, valour, naught avail'd

Immortality of bliss.”
With so merciless a foe;
When the nerves of heroes fail'd,

Cowards then could strike a blow,

“ On that melancholy plain,

In that conflict of despair, “ Cold and keen th'assassin's blade

How was noble Albert slain?
Smote the father to the ground;

How didst thou, old warrior, fare?
Through the infant's breast convey'd
To the mother's heart a wound.*


“ In the agony of strife, “Underwalden thus expired;

Where the heart of battle bled,
But at her expiring flame,

Where his country lost her life,
With fraternal feeling fired,

Glorious Albert bow'd his head.
Lo, a band of Switzers came.t

“ When our phalanx broke away,
“ From the steeps beyond the lake,
Like a winter's weight of snow,

And our stoutest soldiers fell,
When the huge lavanges break,

Where the dark rocks dimm'd the day,
Devastating all below.

Scowling o'er the deepest dell; “ Down they rush'd with headlong might,

“ There, like lions old in blood, Swifter than the panting wind;

Lions rallying round their den,

Albert and his warriors stood;
All before them fear and flight,
Death and silence all behind.

We were few, but we were men.

“ Breast to breast we fought the ground, “ How the forest of the foe

Arm to arm repellid the foe;
Bow'd before the thunder strokes,

Every motion was a wound,
When they laid the cedars low,

And a death was every blow.
When they overwhelm’d the oaks.

“ Thus the clouds of sunset beam “ Thus they hew'd their dreadful way;

Warmer with expiring light; 'Till, by numbers forced to yield,

Thus autumnal meteors stream
Terrible in death they lay,

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

“ One by one gave up the ghost,
death of Albert.

Slain, not conquerid, -they died free.

Albert stood,-himself a host: “ PLEDGE the memory of the brave,

Last of all the Swiss was he.
And the spirits of the dead;

“So, when night with rising shade Pledge the venerable grave,

Climbs the Alps from steep to steep,
Valour's consecrated bed.

Till, in hoary gloom array'd, “ Wanderer, cheer thy drooping soul,

All the giant mountains sleep;
This inspiring goblet take;

“ High in heaven their monarch* stands, Drain the deep delicious bowl,

Bright and beauteous from afar,
For thy martyr'd brethren's sake.

Shining unto distant lands

Like a new-created star. * An indiscriminate massacre followed the battle. + Two hundred sell-devoted beroes from the canton of * Mont Blanc; which is so much higher than the surSwitz arriver, at the close of the battle, to the aid of their rounding Alps, that it catches and relains the beams of brethren of Underwalden; and perished to a man, after the sun irenty 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 tumble 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.


"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. "Slain for me, his dearest breath On my lips he did resign; Slain for me, he snatch'd his death 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."


"Man of suffering! such a tale

Would bring tears from marble eyes!"


"Ha! my daughter's cheek grows pale!"


"Help! O help! my daughter dies!"


"Calm thy transports, O my wife! Peace! for these dear orphans' sake!"


"O my joy, my hope, my life, O my child, my child, awake!"


"God! O God, whose goodness gives; God! whose wisdom takes awaySpare my child.”


"She lives, she lives!"


"Lives?-my daughter, didst thou say?

"God Almighty, on my knees,

In the dust will I adore

Thine unsearchable decrees;

-She was dead:-she lives once more."

WANDERER'S DAUGHTER. "When poor Albert died, no prayer Call'd him back to hated life: O that I had perish'd there,

Not his widow, but his wife!"


"Dare my daughter thus repine?
Albert, answer from above;
Tell me, are these infants thine,
Whom their mother does not love?"


"Does not love!-my father, hear; Hear me, or my heart will break ; Dear is life, but only dear

For my parents', children's sake.

"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."


"Mother, widow, mourner, all, All kind names in one, my child;

On thy faithful neck I fall;
Kiss me, are we reconciled ?"


"Yes, to Albert I appeal:

Albert, answer from above, That my father's breast may feel All his daughter's heart of love."


"Faint and wayworn as they be

With the day's long journey, sire,

Let thy pilgrim family

Now with me to rest retire."


"Yes, the hour invites to sleep;

Till the morrow we must part:Nay, my daughter, do not weep,

Do not weep and break my heart.

"Sorrow-soothing sweet repose

On your peaceful pillows light; Angel hands your eyelids closeDream of Paradise to-night."


The Wanderer, being left alone with the shepherd, relate his adventures after the battle of Underwalden.


"WHEN the good man yields his breath, (For the good man never dies,) Bright, beyond the gulf of death, Lo! the land of promise lies.

"Peace to Albert's awful shade,

In that land where sorrows cease; And to Albert's ashes, laid

In the earth's cold bosom, peace."


"On the fatal field I lay,

Till the hour when twilight pale, Like the ghost of dying day, Wander'd down the darkening vale.

"Then in agony I rose,

And with horror look'd around, Where, embracing friends and foes, Dead and dying, strew'd the ground.

"Many a widow fix'd her eye,

Weeping, where her husband bled, Heedless, though her babe was by, Prattling to his father dead.

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"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:
It shall burst on Gallia's head,
Sudden as the judgment-day

To the unexpecting dead.

"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."


"Prophet! thou hast spoken well,
And I deem thy words divine:
Now the mournful sequel tell

Of thy country's woes and thine."


"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."


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 reme province of America.


"WANDERER, whither wouldst thou roam;
To what region far away
Bend thy steps to find a home,
In the twilight of thy day?"


"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, Silent since the world began, Dwells the virgin Solitude,

Unbetray'd by faithless man; "Where a tyrant never trod,

Where a slave was never known, But where Nature worships God

In the wilderness alone:

"-Thither, thither would I roam; There my children may be free; I for them will find a home,

They shall find a grave for me.

"Though my fathers' bones afar In their native land repose, Yet beneath the twilight star

Soft on mine the turf shall close.

"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, 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, And my daughter's duteous tears Bid the flowery verdure wave Through the winter waste of years


"Long before thy sun descend,

May thy woes and wanderings cease; Late and lovely be thine end;

Hope and triumph, joy and peace!

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