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* 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 !
SHEPHERD. “ Warrior, warrior, stay thine arm!
Sheathe, sheathe thy frantic sword!”
# 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 way determined in the assembly of the nation, that every tenth inan and his family should quit their country, and seek a new possession. Six thousand, chosen by loi, 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 tradi. Lion, led them to a valley among the Alps, where they cleared away the foresis, built the lown of Switz, and afterwards peopled and cultivated the cantons of Uri and Underwalden.
WANDERER. " Ab! I rave-I faint-the charm
Flies, and memory is restored.
“Yes, to agony restored
From the too transporting charm :Sleep for ever, O my sword! Be thou wither'd, O mine arm!
- There is a grief that cannot feel; HANNAH.
It leaves a wound that will not heal; At fond sixteen my roving heart
-My heart grew cold, -it felt not then: Was pierced by love's delightíul dart:
When shall it cease to feel again?
WRITTEN AT SCARBOROUGH, IN THE SUMMER OF I stole her hand, -it shrunk,-but no;
1805. I would not let my captive go.
ALL hail to the ruins,* the rocks and the shores! With all the fervency of youth,
Thou wide-rolling ocean, ail hail ! While passion told the tale of truth,
Now brilliant with sunbeams, and dimpled with oars, I mark'd my Hannah's downcast eye,
Now dark with the fresh blowing gale, 'Twas kind, but beautifully shy.
While soft o'er thy bosom the cloud shadows sail,
And the silver-wing'd sea-fowl on high,
Like meteors bespangle the sky,
Like foam on the surges, the swans of the tide. Turns from the sun her blushing face;
From the tumult and smoke of the city set free, But, swifter than the frighted dove,
With eager and awful delight; Fled the gay morning of my love ;
From the crest of the mountain I gaze upon thee; Ah! that so bright a morn, so soon,
I gaze,—and am changed at the sight; Should vanish in so dark a noon.
For mine eye is illumined, my gedius takes flight,
My soul, like the sun, with a glance
Embraces the boundless expanse,
And moves on thy waters, wherever they roll, He pour'd his vial on my head, And all the heaven of rapture fled.
From the day-darting zone to the night-shadowd
pole. Yet, in the glory of my pride,
My spirit descends where the day-spring is bora, stood, and all his wrath defied;
Where the billows are rubies on fire, I stood,—though whirlwinds shook my brain, And the breezes that rock the light cradle of mon And lightnings cleft my soul in twain. Are sweet as the phænix's pyre: I shunn'd my nymph ;-and knew not why
O regions of beauty, of love, and desire! I durst not meet her gentle eye;
O gardens of Eden! in vain I shunn'd her--for I could not bear
Placed far on the fathomless main, To marry her to my despair.
Where nature with innocence dwelt in her youth,
When pure was her heart, and unbroken ber truth. Yet, sick at heart with hope delay'd,
But now the fair rivers of Paradise wind
Through countries and kingdoms o’erthrown;
Where the giant of tyranny crushes mankind, And promised happiness behind.
Where he reigns, and will soon reign alone; The storm blew o'er, and in my breast For wide and more wide, o'er the sunbeaming zone The halcyon peace rebuilt her nest:
He stretches his hundred-fold arms, The storm blew o’er, and clear and mild Despoiling, destroying its charms; The sea of youth and pleasure smiled. Beneath his broad footstep the Ganges is dry,
And the mountains recoil from the flash of his eye. 'Twas on a merry morn of May, To Hannah's cot I took my way:
Thus the pestilent Cpas, the demon of trees, My eager hopes were on the wing,
Its boughs o'er the wilderness spreads, Like swallows sporting in the spring,
And with livid contagion polluting the breeze,
Its mildewing influence sheds : Then as I climb'd the mountains o'er,
The birds on the wing, and the flowers in their beds, I lived my wooing days once more ;
Are slain by its venomous breath, And fancy sketch'd my married lot,
That darkens the noonday with death, My wife, my children, and my cot.
And pale ghosts of travellers wander around, I saw the village steeple rise,
While their mouldering skeletons whiten the My soul sprang, sparkling, in my eyes;
ground. The rural bells rang sweet and clear, - Ah! why hath Jehovah, in forming the world, My fond beart listen'd in mine ear.
With the waters divided the land, I reach'd the hamlet :--all was gay;
His ramparts of rocks round the continent hurid,
And cradled the deep in his hand,
If man may transgress his eternal command,
* Scarborough Castle.