To see a planet's pomp and steady light Wheels pale and silent her diminished round, To him the day-star glitters small and Shorn of its beams, insufferably white, And he can look beyond the sun, and view And cold and hunger are his least of woes; fear afar, heights? Is there who 'mid these awful wilds has seen The native genii walk the mountain green? Or heard, while other worlds their charms reveal, goes. And pastures on as in the Patriarchs' age: Rocked on the dizzy larch's narrow tread ; That sigh and shudder to the lowing herd. I see him, up the midway cliff he creeps To where a scanty knot of verdure peeps, Thence down the steep a pile of grass he Soft music from the aërial summit steal? Or summer hamlet, flat and bare, on high The people of this Canton are supposed to be of a more melancholy disposition than the other inhabitants of the Alps; this, if true, may proceed from their living more secluded. This picture is from the middle region of the Alps. The fodder of his herds in winter snows. Far different life to what tradition hoar yore; Transmits of days more blest in times of And plants were wholesome, now of For scanty food the treacherous cliffs to Sugh, a Scotch word expressive of the sound of the wind through the trees. Then the milk-thistle bade those herds demand [hand. 'Three times a day the pail and welcome But human vices have provoked the rod Of angry nature to avenge her God. Thus does the father to his sons relate, On the lone mountain top, their changed estate. Still, nature, ever just, to him imparts 'Tis morn: with gold the verdant mountain glows, [rose. More high, the snowy peaks with hues of Far-stretched beneath the many-tinted hills A mighty waste of mist the valley fills, A solemn sea! whose vales and mountains round rear; Stand motionless, to awful silence bound. A gulf of gloomy blue, that opens wide And bottomless, divides the midway tide. Like leaning masts of stranded ships appear The pines that near the coast their summits [shore Of cabins, woods, and lawns a pleasant Bounds calm and clear the chaos still and hoar : [sound Loud through that midway gulf ascending, Unnumbered streams with hollow roar profound: [of birds, Mount through the nearer mist the chant And talking voices, and the low of herds, The bark of dogs, the drowsy tinkling bell, And wild-wood mountain lutes of saddest swell. Think not, suspended from the cliff on high, He looks below with undelighted eye. -No vulgar joy is his, at eventide Stretched on the scented 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, While Hope, that ceaseless leans on Plea[return. Binds her wild wreaths, and whispers his sure's urn, Once Man, entirely free, alone and wild. Was blest as free for he was nature's child. He, all superior but his God disdained, Walked none restraining, and by none restrained, (taught, Confessed no law but what his reason Did all he wished, and wished but what he ought. As man in his primeval dower arrayed And, as his native hills encircle ground For many a wondrous victory renowned, The work of freedom daring to oppose, With few in arms,* innumerable foes, When to those glorious fields his steps are led, [dead. An unknown power connects him with the For images of other worlds are there; Awful the light, and holy is the air. Uncertain through his fierce uncultured soul [roll; Like lighted tempests troubled transports To viewless realms his spirit towers amain, Beyond the senses and their little reign. When downward to his winter hut he goes, [grows; Dear and more dear the lessening circle 'That hut which from the hills his eye employs So oft, the central point of all his joys. His father, helpless as the babe he rocks, There, safely guarded by the woods behind, He hears the chiding of the baffled wind, Hears Winter, calling all his terrors round, Rush down the living rocks with whirlwind sound. Lo! where through flat Batavia's willowy groves, Or by the lazy Seine the exile roves; Soft o'er the waters mournful measures swell, [cell;" Unlocking tender thought's "memorial Past pleasures are transformed to mortal pains, [veins, While poison spreads along the listener's Poison which not a frame of steel can brave, [grave.* Bows his young head with sorrow to the Gay lark of hope, thy silent song resume! Fair smiling lights the purpled hills illume ! Soft gales and dews of life's delicious morn, And thou, lost fragrance of the heart, re turn! Soon flies the little joy to man allowed, Through nature's vale his homely plea-For come diseases on, and penury's rage, sures glide Unstained by envy, discontent, and pride; The bound of all his vanity, to deck, With one bright bell, a favourite heifer's [feast, Well-pleased upon some simple annual Remembered half the year and hoped the rest, .neck; If dairy produce from his inner hoard The general sorrows of the human race : That solitary man disturb their reign, Powers that support a never-ceasing strife With all the tender charities of life, The father, as his sons of strength become To pay the filial debt, for food to roam, From his bare nest amid the storms of heaven [driven; Drives, eagle-like, those sons as he was His last dread pleasure watches to the plain And never, eagle-like, beholds again!. Labour, and care, and pain, and dismal âge, Till, hope-deserted, long in vain his breath Implores the dreadful untried sleep of death. 'Mid savage rocks, and seas of snow that shine Between interminable tracts of pine, A temple stands; which holds an awful shrine, By an uncertain light revealed, that falls On the mute image and the troubled walls : Pale, dreadful faces round the shrine appear, Abortive joy, and hope that works in fear; While strives a secret power to hush the crowd, [rights aloud. Pain's wild rebellious burst proclaims her Oh! give not me that eye of hard disdain That views undimmed Ensiedlen's wretched fane.† [ment meet, 'Mid muttering prayers all sounds of torDire clap of hands, distracted chafe of feet; [cry, While, loud and dull, ascends the weeping! Surely in other thoughts contempt may die. If the sad grave of human ignorance bear One flower of hope-oh, pass and leave it. there. * The effect of the famous air called in French Ranz des Vaches upon, the Swiss troops. When the poor heart has all its joys re-relief, by multitudes, from every corner of the This shrine is resorted to, from a hope of signed, [behind? Catholic world, labouring under mental or Why does their sad remembrance cleave bodily afflictions. The tall sun, tiptoe on an Alpine spire, Flings o'er the wilderness a stream of fire; Now let us meet the pilgrims ere the day Close on the remnant of their weary way; While they are drawing toward the sacred floor [gnaw no more. Where the charmed worm of pain shall How gaily murmur and how sweetly taste The fountains* reared for them amid the [greet, There some with tearful kiss each other And some, with reverence, wash their toilworn feet. waste ! Yes, I will see you when ye first behold Those holy turrets tipped with evening gold, [prest In that glad moment when the hands are In mute devotion on the thankful breast. Last let us turn to where Chàmouny shields [fields; With rocks and gloomy woods her fertile Five streams of ice amid her cots descend, And with wild flowers and blooming orchards blend. [feigns A scene more fair than what the Grecian Of purple lights and ever-vernal plains; Here lawns and shades by breezy rivulets fanned, Here all the seasons revel hand in hand. -Red stream the cottage-lights; the landscape fades, Erroneous wavering'mid the twilight shades. Alone ascends that hill of matchless height,t That holds no commerce with the summer night. From age to age, amid his lonely bounds The crash of ruin fitfully resounds; Mysterious havoc ! but serene his brow, Where daylight lingers 'mid perpetual snow; Glitter the stars above, and all is black below. At such an hour I heaved a pensive sigh, When roared the sullen Arve in anger by, That not for thy reward, delicious vale! Waves the ripe harvest in the autumnal gale; [to pine; That thou, the slave of slaves, art doomed Hard lot!-for no Italian arts are thine, To soothe or cheer, to soften or refine. Rude fountains built and covered with sheds for the accommodation of the pilgrims, in their ascent of the mountain. It is only from the higher part of the valley of Chamouny that Mont Blanc is visible. Crowed with ear-piercing power till then unheard; [muring streams, Each clacking mill, that broke the murRocked the charmed thought in more delightful dreams; [ing leaf Chasing those long, long dreams, the fallAwoke a fainter pang of moral grief; The measured echo of the distant flail Wound in more welcome cadence down the vale; A more majestic tide the water rolled, And glowed the sun-gilt groves in richer gold. [raise -Though Liberty shall soon, indignant, Red on the hills his beacon's comet blaze; Bid from on high his lonely cannon sound, And on ten thousand hearths his shout rebound; His 'larum-bell from village-tower to tower Swing on the astonished ear its dull un dying roar ; Yet, yet rejoice, though pride's perverted ire Rouse hell's own aid, and wrap thy hills in fire! [birth, Lo! from the innocuous flames, a lovely With its own virtues springs another earth: Nature, as in her prime, her virgin reign Begins, and love and truth compose her [gaze, While, with a pulseless hand, and steadfast Unbreathing justice her still beam surveys. train ; Oh, give, great God, to freedom's waves to ride Sublime o'er conquest, avarice, and pride, To sweep where pleasure decks her guilty bowers, bed towers. And dark oppression builds her thick rib-Give them, beneath their breast while gladness springs, [wings; To brood the nations o'er with Nile-like And grant that every sceptred child of clay, Who cries, presumptuous, "Here their tides shall stay," [shore, Swept in their anger from the affrighted With all his creatures sink-to rise no more! To-night, my friend, within this humble cot Be the dead load of mortal ills forgot In timely sleep; and when at break of day, On the tall peaks the glistening sunbeams play, [new, With lighter heart our course we may reThe first whose footsteps print the mountain dew. LINES Left upon a seat in a yew-tree, which stands near the Lake of Esthwaite, on a desolate part of the shore, commanding a beautiful prospect. NAY, traveller! rest. This lonely yew-tree stands Far from all human dwelling: what if here No sparkling rivulet spread the verdant herb? What if these barren boughs the bee not By one soft impulse saved from vacancy. That piled these stones, and with the mossy sod [tree First covered o'er, and taught this aged With its dark arms to form a circling bower I well remember.-He was one who owned No common soul. In youth by science nursed, taint And led by nature into a wild scene Owed him no service: wherefore he at once His only visitants a straggling sheep, |