XIII.

MEMORIAL,

NEAR THE OUTLET OF THE LAKE OF THUN.

• DEM

ANDENKEN

MEINES FREUNDES

ALOYS REDING

MDCCCXVIII.

Aloys Reding, it will be remembered, was Captain General of the Swiss forces, which, with a courage and perseverance worthy of the cause, opposed the flagitious and too successful attempt of Buonaparte to subjugate their country.

AROUND a wild and woody hill

A gravelled pathway treading,

We reached a votive Stone that bears

The name of Aloys Reding.

Well judged the Friend who placed it there

For silence and protection;

And haply with a finer care

Of dutiful affection.

The Sun regards it from the West;
And, while in summer glory

He sets, his sinking yields a type

Of that pathetic story :

And oft he tempts the patriot Swiss
Amid the grove to linger;

Till all is dim, save this bright Stone
Touched by his golden finger.

XIV.

COMPOSED IN ONE OF THE CATHOLIC CANTONS.

DOOMED as we are our native dust

To wet with many a bitter shower,
It ill befits us to disdain

The altar, to deride the fane,

Where simple Sufferers bend, in trust
To win a happier hour.

I love, where spreads the village lawn,
Upon some knee-worn cell to gaze :
Hail to the firm unmoving cross,
Aloft, where pines their branches toss !
And to the chapel far withdrawn,
That lurks by lonely ways!

Where'er we roam-along the brink
Of Rhine or by the sweeping Po,
Through Alpine vale, or champain wide,
Whate'er we look on, at our side
Be Charity!-to bid us think,
And feel, if we would know.

XV.

AFTER-THOUGHT.

OH Life! without thy chequered scene
Of right and wrong, of weal and woe,
Success and failure, could a ground
For magnanimity be found;

For faith, 'mid ruined hopes, serene?
Or whence could virtue flow?

Pain entered through a ghastly breach-
Nor while sin lasts must effort cease;
Heaven upon earth's an empty boast;
But, for the bowers of Eden lost,
Mercy has placed within our reach
A portion of God's peace.

XVI.

SCENE ON THE LAKE OF BRIENTZ.

'WHAT know we of the Blest above
But that they sing and that they love?'
Yet, if they ever did inspire

A mortal hymn, or shaped the choir,
Now, where those harvest Damsels float
Homeward in their rugged Boat,

(While all the ruffling winds are fled-
Each slumbering on some mountain's head)
Now, surely, hath that gracious aid
Been felt, that influence is displayed.
Pupils of Heaven, in order stand
The rustic Maidens, every hand
Upon a Sister's shoulder laid,-
To chant, as glides the boat along,
A simple, but a touching, song;
To chant, as Angels do above,
The melodies of Peace in love!

--

XVII.

ENGELBERG, THE HILL OF ANGELS *.

FOR gentlest uses, oft-times Nature takes
The work of Fancy from her willing hands ;
And such a beautiful creation makes

As renders needless spells and magic wands,
And for the boldest tale belief commands.
When first mine eyes beheld that famous Hill
The sacred ENGELBERG, celestial Bands,
With intermingling motions soft and still,

Hung round its top, on wings that changed their hues at will.

Clouds do not name those Visitants; they were

The very Angels whose authentic lays.

Sung from that heavenly ground in middle air,
Made known the spot where piety should raise
A holy Structure to the Almighty's praise.
Resplendent Apparition! if in vain

My ears did listen, 'twas enough to gaze;

And watch the slow departure of the train,

Whose skirts the glowing Mountain thirsted to detain!

* See Note.