WANDERER. "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: "From the Revolution's flood Shall a fiery dragon start; "Nurst by anarchy and crime, He-but distance mocks my sight, O thou great avenger, TIME! Bring thy strangest birth to light." SHEPHERD. "Prophet! thou hast spoken well, WANDERER. "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 expiredNature 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 beautift valley was converted to 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." 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 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 ; 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, 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, 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 Wild as Scandinavia, give, Power Eternal! where our flocks And our little ones may live.' "Thus they pray'd;—a sacred hand Led them by a path unknown, To that dear delightful land Which I yet must call my own. "To the vale of Switz they came, Soon their meliorating toil Gave the forests to the flame, 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 thine own sweet cottage rise!" WANDERER. "By the glorious ghost of TELL; "Soul of Switzerland, arise! -Ha! the spell has waked the deed: 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. "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! HANNAH. AT fond sixteen my roving heart Where circling woods embower'd the glade, I stole her hand,-it shrunk,-but no; Not with a warmer, purer ray, But, swifter than the frighted dove, The angel of affliction rose, Yet, in the glory of my pride, I stood, and all his wrath defied; I stood, though whirlwinds shook my brain, And lightnings cleft my soul in twain. I shunn'd my nymph;-and knew not why I durst not meet her gentle eye; I shunn'd her-for I could not bear Yet, sick at heart with hope delay'd, The storm blew o'er, and in my breast 'Twas on a merry morn of May, Then as I climb'd the mountains o'er, I saw the village steeple rise,- I love a rustic holiday. I met a wedding,-stepp'd aside; -There is a grief that cannot feel; It leaves a wound that will not heal; -My heart grew cold,-it felt not then: When shall it cease to feel again? THE OCEAN. WRITTEN AT SCARBOROUGH, IN THE SUMMER OF 1805. ALL hail to the ruins, the rocks and the shores! Now brilliant with sunbeams, and dimpled with oars, Or dive in the gulf, or triumphantly ride, From the crest of the mountain I gaze upon thee; And moves on thy waters, wherever they roll, From the day-darting zone to the night-shadow'd pole. My spirit descends where the day-spring is born, And the breezes that rock the light cradle of morr O regions of beauty, of love, and desire! Placed far on the fathomless main, Where nature with innocence dwelt in her youth, Beneath his broad footstep the Ganges is dry, Thus the pestilent Upas, the demon of trees, Its boughs o'er the wilderness spreads, The birds on the wing, and the flowers in their beds, That darkens the noonday with death, Ah! why hath JEHOVAH, in forming the world, His ramparts of rocks round the continent hurl'd, If man may transgress his eternal command, * Scarborough Castle. |