"Wildly scatter'd o'er the plain, Bloodier still the battle grew ;O ye spirits of the slain, Slain on those your prowess slew: "Who shall now your deeds relate? Ye that fell unwept, unknown; Mourning for your country's fate, But rejoicing in your own. "Virtue, valour, naught avail'd With so merciless a foe; Cowards then could strike a blow. "Cold and keen th' assassin's blade Smote the father to the ground; Through the infant's breast convey'd To the mother's heart a wound.* "Underwalden thus expired; But at her expiring flame, With fraternal feeling fired, Lo, a band of Switzers came.t "From the steeps beyond the lake, Like a winter's weight of snow, When the huge lavanges break, Devastating all below. "Down they rush'd with headlong might, Swifter than the panting wind ; All before them fear and flight, "How the forest of the foe Bow'd before the thunder strokes, When they laid the cedars low, When they overwhelm'd the oaks. "Thus they hew'd their dreadful way; Till, by numbers forced to yield, Terrible in death they lay, The AVENGERS OF THE FIELD." PART IV. The Wanderer relates the circumstances attending the death of Albert. SHEPHERD. "PLEDGE the memory of the brave, And the spirits of the dead; Pledge the venerable grave, Valour's consecrated bed. "Wanderer, cheer thy drooping soul, This inspiring goblet take; Drain the deep delicious bowl, For thy martyr'd brethren's sake. An indiscriminate massacre followed the battle. + Two hundred self-devoted heroes from the canton of Switz arrived, at the close of the battle, to the aid of their brethren of Underwalden; and perished to a man, after having slain thrice their number. The lavanges are tremendous torrents of melting snow that tumble from the tops of the Alps, and deluge all the country before them. WANDERER. "Hail!-all hail! the patriot's grave, Valour's venerable bed: Hail the memory of the brave, "Time their triumphs shall proclaim, And their rich reward be this,Immortality of fame, Immortality of bliss." SHEPHERD. "On that melancholy plain, WANDERER. "In the agony of strife, 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 repell'd the foe; Every motion was a wound, And a death was every blow. "Thus the clouds of sunset beam "Miracles our champions wrought- How triumphantly they fell! "One by one gave up the ghost, Slain, not conquer'd,-they died free. Albert stood,-himself a host: Last of all the Swiss was he. "So, when night with rising shade Climbs the Alps from steep to steep, Till, in hoary gloom array'd, All the giant mountains sleep; "High in heaven their monarch* stands, Bright and beauteous from afar, Shining unto distant lands Like a new-created star. * Mont Blanc; which is so much higher than the surrounding Alps, that it catches and retains the beams of the sun twenty minutes earlier and later than they, and, crowned with eternal ice, may be seen from an immense distance purpling with his eastern light, or crimsoned with his setting glory while mist and obscurity rest on the mountains below. 3 C "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." SHEPHERD. "Man of suffering! such a tale Would bring tears from marble eyes!" WANDERER. "Ha! my daughter's cheek grows pale!" WANDERER'S WIFE. "Help! O help! my daughter dies!" WANDERER. "Calm thy transports, O my wife! Peace! for these dear orphans' sake!" WANDERER'S WIFE. "O my joy, my hope, my life, O my child, my child, awake!" WANDERER. "God! O God, whose goodness gives; God! whose wisdom takes awaySpare my child." SHEPHERD. "She lives, she lives!" WANDERER. "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!" WANDERER. "Dare my daughter thus repine? WANDERER'S DAUGHTER. 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." 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'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." WANDERER. "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." PART V. The Wanderer, being left alone with the shepherd, relates his adventures after the battle of Underwalden. SHEPHERD. "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." WANDERER. "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. "Many a mother, in despair, Turning up the ghastly slain, Sought her son, her hero there, Whom she long'd to seek in vain. "Dark the evening shadows roll'd On the eye that gleam'd in death; And the evening dews fell cold On the lip that gasp'd for breath. "As I gazed, an ancient dame, -She was childless by her look,With refreshing cordials came; Of her bounty I partook. "Then, with desperation bold, Albert's precious corpse I bore "Albert's angel gave me strength, "Then, returning through the shade To the battle scene, I sought, 'Mongst the slain, an axe and spade; With such weapons FREEMEN fought. "Scythes for swords our youth did wield, In that execrable strife: Ploughshares in that horrid field Bled with slaughter, breathed with life. "In a dark and lonely cave, While the glimmering moon arose, Thus I dug my Albert's grave; There his hallow'd limbs repose, "Tears then, tears too long represt, Gush'd:-they fell like healing balm, Till the whirlwind in my breast Died into a dreary calm. "On the fresh earth's humid bed, Where my martyr lay enshrined, This forlorn, unhappy head, Crazed with anguish, I reclined. "But while o'er my weary eyes Soothing slumbers seem'd to creep. Forth I sprang, with strange surprise, From the clasping arms of sleep. "For the bones of Albert dead Heaved the turf with horrid throes, And his grave beneath my head, Burst asunder;-Albert rose! "Ha! my son-my son,' I cried, "Wherefore hast thou left thy grave?' Fly, my father,' he replied; 'Save my wife-my children save.' "In the passing of a breath This tremendous scene was o'er: Darkness shut the gates of death, Silence seal'd them as before. "One pale moment fix'd I stood In astonishment severe; Horror petrified my blood, I was wither'd up with fear. "Then a sudden trembling came O'er my limbs; I felt on fire, Burning, quivering like a flame In the instant to expire." SHEPHERD. "Rather like the mountain oak, Tempest-shaken, rooted fast, Grasping strength from every stroke, While it wrestles with the blast." WANDERER. "Ay!-my heart, unwont to yield, Quickly quell'd the strange affright, And undaunted o'er the field I began my lonely flight. "Loud the gusty night-wind blew, Many an awful pause between, Fits of light and darkness flew, Wild and sudden o'er the scene. "For the moon's resplendent eye Gleams of transient glory shed; And the clouds, athwart the sky Like a routed army, fled. "Sounds and voices fill'd the vale, Heard alternate loud and low; Shouts of victory swell'd the gale, But the breezes murmur'd wo. "As I climb'd the mountain's side, Where the lake and valley meet, All my country's power and pride Lay in ruins at my feet. "On that grim and ghastly plain Underwalden's heart-strings broke, When she saw her heroes slain, And her rocks receive the yoke. "On that plain, in childhood's hours, From their mother's arms set free, Oft those heroes gather'd flowers, Often chased the wandering bee. "On that plain, in rosy youth, They had fed their father's flocks, Told their love, and pledged their truth, In the shadow of those rocks. "There, with shepherd's pipe and song, SHEPHERD. "Heard not Heaven th' accusing cries Of the blood that smoked around, While the life-warm sacrifice Palpitated on the ground?" "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 remote province of America. SHEPHERD. "WANDERER, Whither wouldst thou roam; To what region far away Bend thy steps to find a home, In the twilight of thy day?" 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, In their native land repose, "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 Which I yet must call my own. 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. "There, unenvied and unknown, We shall dwell secure and free, In a country all our own, In a land of liberty." SHEPHERD. "Yet the woods, the rocks, the streams, "And thy native country's song, "How will thy poor cheek turn pale, And, before thy banish'd eyes, Underwalden's charming vale And thine own sweet cottage rise!" WANDERER. "By the glorious ghost of TELL; By Mogarthen's awful fray; By the field where Albert fell In thy last and bitter day; "Soul of Switzerland, arise! -Ha! the spell has waked the dead: From her ashes to the skies Switzerland exalts her head. "See the queen of mountains stand And the Alps beneath her feet. "Hark! her voice: My sons, awake: Freedom dawns, behold the day: From the bed of bondage break, 'Tis your mother calls,- obey.' "At the sound, our fathers' graves, On each ancient battle-plain, Utter groans, and toss like waves When the wild blast sweeps the main. "Rise, my brethren! cast away All the chains that bind you slaves: Rise, your mother's voice obey, And appease your fathers' graves. "Strike!-the conflict is begun; Freemen, soldiers, follow me. Shout! the victory is won,SWITZERLAND AND LIBERTY!" SHEPHERD. "Warrior, warrior, stay thine arm! Sheathe, O sheathe thy frantic sword!" WANDERER. "Ah! 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! |