405 More high, the snowy peaks with hues of rose. Far stretched beneath the many-tinted hills, A mighty waste of mist the valley fills, 410 Sugh, a Scotch word expressive of the sound Pines, on the coast, through mist their ✔ the wind through the trees. tops uprear, That like to leaning masts of stranded The traces of primeval Man appear; ships appear. A single chasm, a gulf of gloomy blue, Gapes in the centre of the sea-and, through 415 That dark mysterious gulf ascending, sound Innumerable streams with roar profound. Mount through the nearer vapours notes of birds, And merry flageolet; the low of herds, The bark of dogs, the heifer's tinkling bell, Talk, laughter, and perchance a churchtower knell: 420 Think not the peasant from aloft has gazed And as his native hills encircle ground For many a marvellous victory renown ed, 45 The work of Freedom daring to oppose, And heard with heart unmoved, with soul With few in arms,1 innumerable foes, unraised: Nor is his spirit less enrapt, nor less 425 Upon the fragrant mountain's purple side: For as the pleasures of his simple day Beyond his native valley seldom stray, Nought round its darling precincts can he find But brings some past enjoyment to his mind; 430 While Hope, reclining upon Pleasure's urn, Binds her wild wreaths, and whispers his return. Once, Man entirely free, alone and wild, Was blest as free-for he was Nature's child. He, all superior but his God disdained, 435 Walked none restraining, and by none restrained: Confessed no law but what his reason taught, 1 Alluding to several battles which the Swiss in very small numbers have gained over their oppressors, the House of Austria; and, in par ticular, to one fought at Næffels near Glarus, Did all he wished, and wished but what where three hundred and thirty men are said to he ought. have defeated an army of between fifteen and twenty thousand Austrians. Scattered over the valley are to be found eleven stones, with this inscription, 1888, the year the battle was fought, marking out, as I was told upon the spot, the several places where the Austrians, attempting to make a stand, were repulsed anew. Reclined, he sees, above him and below, Bright stars of ice and azure fields of snow; Unstained by envy, discontent, and pride; The bound of all his vanity, to deck, While needle peaks of granite shooting With one bright bell a favourite heifer's bare Tremble in ever-varying tints of air. And when a gathering weight of shadows brown 470 Falls on the valleys as the sun goes down; neck; 495 Well pleased upon some simple annual feast, Remembered half the year and hoped the rest, If dairy-produce, from his inner hoard, And Pikes, of darkness named and fear Of thrice ten summers dignify the board. and storms,1 Uplift in quiet their illumined forms, In sea-like reach of prospect round him spread, Tinged like an angel's smile all rosy red475 Awe in his breast with holiest love unites, And the near heavens impart their own delights. When downward to his winter hut he goes, Dear and more dear the lessening circle grows; That hut which on the hills so oft employs 480 His thoughts, the central point of all his joys. And as a swallow, at the hour of rest, A little prattling child, he oft descends, To glance a look upon the well-matched pair; 486 Till storm and driving ice blockade him there. There, safely guarded by the woods behind, He hears the chiding of the baffled wind, Hears Winter calling all his terrors round, 490 And, blest within himself, he shrinks not from the sound. 500 -Alas! in every clime a flying ray The general sorrows of the human race: 505 To them the gentle groups of bliss deny That on the noon-day bank of leisure lie. Yet more;-compelled by Powers which only deign That solitary man disturb their reign, Powers that support an unremitting strife With all the tender charities of life, 511 Full oft the father, when his sons have grown To manhood, seems their title to disown; And from his nest amid the storms of heaven Drives, eagle-like, those sons as he was driven; 515 With stern composure watches to the plain And never, eagle-like, beholds again! When long familiar joys are all re signed, Why does their sad remembrance haunt the mind? Lo! where through flat Batavia's willowy Or by the lazy Seine, the exile roves; Through Nature's vale his homely plea- And search the affections to their inmost sures glide, 1 As Schreck-Horn, the pike of terror; WetterHorn, the pike of storms, &c., &c. cell; Sweet poison spreads along the listener's veins, Turning past pleasures into mortal pains; Poison, which not a frame of steel can Surely in other thoughts contempt may brave, 526 Bows his young head with sorrow to the grave.1 Gay lark of hope, thy silent song resume! Ye flattering eastern lights, once more the hills illume! Fresh gales and dews of life's delicious morn, 530 And thou, lost fragrance of the heart, return! Alas! the little joy to man allowed 535 Yet, when opprest by sickness, grief, or care, The fountains reared for them amid the waste! 560 And taught that pain is pleasure's natural Their thirst they slake:-they wash their heir, We still confide in more than we can know; toil-worn feet, And some with tears of joy each other greet. Death would be else the favourite friend Yes, I must see you when ye first behold Those holy turrets tipped with evening gold, of woe. 'Mid savage rocks, and seas of snow that shine, 540 In that glad moment will for you a sigh Be heaved of charitable sympathy; 565 In that glad moment when your hands Between interminable tracts of pine, are prest Last, let us turn to Chamouny that shields With rocks and gloomy 'woods her fertile fields: 570 While ghastly faces through the gloom Five streams of ice amid her cots deappear, scend, Abortive joy, and hope that works in And with wild flowers and blooming fear; orchards blend ;While prayer contends with silenced A scene more fair than what the Grecian Mid lawns and shades by breezy rivulets Or woodbine wreaths, a smoother path is fanned, wound; 605 They sport beneath that mountain's The housewife there a brighter garden matchless height sees, That holds no commerce with the sum- Where hum on busier wing her happy mer night. bees; From age to age, throughout his lonely On infant cheeks there fresher roses blow; And grey-haired men look up with livelier brow, bounds The crash of ruin fitfully resounds; 580 Appalling havoc! but serene his brow, Where daylight lingers on perpetual To greet the traveller needing food and rest; 610 Housed for the night, or but a half-hour's guest. |