The depths of that green solitude Its torrents could not tame, Though stillness lay, with eve's last smile, Night came with stars :-across his soul A shadow dark and strange, Breath'd from the thought, so swift to fall No more than this!-what seem'd it now Bath'd his own mountain land! Whence, far o'er waste and ocean track, They call'd him back to many a glade, They call'd him, with their sounding waves, Back to his fathers' hills and graves. But darkly mingling with the thought Of each familiar scene, Rose up a fearful vision, fraught With all that lay between; Where was the glow of power and pride? With yearnings for his home; All vainly struggling to repress He wept the stars of Afric's heaven Beheld his bursting tears, Ev'n on that spot where fate had given -Oh happiness! how far we flee Thine own sweet paths in search of thee !* * The arrival of Bruce at what he considered to be the source of the Nile, was followed almost immediately by feelings thus suddenly fluctuating from triumph to despondence. See his Travels in Abyssinia. THE VAUDOIS VALLEYS. YES, thou hast met the sun's last smile, By many a bright Egean isle, Thou hast seen the billows foam : From the silence of the Pyramid Thou hast watch'd the solemn flow Of the Nile, that with its waters hid Thy heart hath burn'd as shepherds sung Where the Moorish horn once proudly rung And o'er the lonely Grecian streams Thou hast heard the laurels moan, With a sound yet murmuring in thy dreams Of the glory that is gone. But go thou to the pastoral vales Of the Alpine mountains old, By the wind's deep whispers told! Go, if thou lov'st the soil to tread, For o'er the snows, and round the pines, The nurture of the peasant's vines A spirit, stronger than the sword, Through all the heroic region pour'd, A memory clings to every steep And the sounding streams glad record keep Of courage unto death. Ask of the peasant where his sires For truth and freedom bled, Ask, where were lit the torturing fires, And he will tell thee, all around, Go, when the sabbath bell is heard * When the dark old woods and caves are stirr'd When forth, along their thousand rills, * See "Gilly's Researches amongst the Mountains of Piedmont," for an interesting description of a sabbath day in the upper regions of the Vaudois. The inhabitants of these Protestant valleys, who, like the Swiss, repair with their flocks and herds, to the summits of the hills during the summer, are followed thither by their pastors, and at that season of the year, assembled on the sacred day, to worship in the open air. |