VIII. O'er their low pastoral valleys might the tide The snow-mass, full of death, while ages run Their course, may slumber, bath'd in rosy light, Till some rash voice or step disturb its brooding might. IX. So were they roused-th' invading step had past Th' enduring and magnificent array way, Of sovereign Alps, that wing'd their eagles with the day? X. This might not long be borne-the tameless hills That He hath made man free!-and they whose dwelling Was in those ancient fastnesses, gave ear; The weight of sufferance from their hearts repelling, Oh! what hath earth more strong than the good peasantspear? XI. Sacred be Grütli's field!—their vigil keeping Through many a blue and starry summer-night, There, while the sons of happier lands were sleeping, Had those brave Switzers met; and in the sight Of the just God, who pours forth burning might To gird the oppress'd, had given their deep thoughts way, And brac'd their spirits for the patriot-fight, With lovely images of homes, that lay Bower'd 'midst the rustling pines, or by the torrent-spray. XII. Now had endurance reach'd its bounds!-They came With courage set in each bright earnest eye, The stars, the waves their soften'd light enshrining, XIII. Calmly they stood, and with collected mien, With the wood's whisper, and the wave's sweet flow, Of Dorian flute, and lyre-note soft and slow, XIV. And three, that seem'd as chieftains of the band, Were gather'd in the midst on that lone shore 3 One on his brow the silent record wore Of many days, whose shadows had pass'd o'er His path amongst the hills, and quench'd the dreams Of youth with sorrow.-Yet from memory's lore Still his life's evening drew its loveliest gleams, For he had walk'd with God, beside the mountain streams. XV. And his grey hairs, in happier times, might well As melts a wreath of snow.-But who shall tell XVI. But for such holy rest strong hands must toil, Stood one that seem'd a monarch of the soil, He was a mate for such.-The voice, that cried XVII. It was a home to die for!-as it rose, As through some Alpine pass, a breeze of Italy. |