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THE FATE OF SWITZERLAND.
Yet fell:—remember ------.”
Milton, Par. Lost, VI.
When Gallia northward bent her way,
Eager to stretch her desolating brand
O'er the rich vales of happy Switzerland;
From beneath the piny steep,
Where he lay in slumber deep,
Lull'd by the water's tuneful fall,
And the goatherd's madrigal,
High on Adula's rock he fix'd his stand,
And clash'd his shield, and wav'd his banner'd hand,
And thus his war-song sang.
“The legions of perfidious France!
“Onward she bids the gathering tempest roll,
“Peace on her brow, but rancour in her soul.
“She envies us the pastur'd mead,
“The rock with mantling vineyards spread,
“The beechen grove, the vale, the hill,
“Fresh with many a vernal rill,
“With many a simple spire and cottage grac'd;
“Fain would she scatter with her venom'd breath
“Over this pleasant land the seeds of death,
“And blast our Eden's bloom, and leave a hideous waste.
“Though the proud insulting foe
“Full wide her conquering banners have unfurl'd
“O'er half the nations of the prostrate world;
“Hath she yet storm'd the mountain-rock,
“And stemm'd the mountain-torrent's shock,
“And scal'd the beetling precipice,
“Barrier'd with eternal ice?
“Warriors, hath she yet essay'd
“The fury of the freeman's blade,
“Of souls resolv'd to conquer or to die?—
“Then, Switzers, rise! each his stout breastplate gird,
“And each unsheath his blood-incrusted sword,
“And rear his nervous arm, and strike for liberty!”
Helvetia's warriors throng'd around.
From the swift Limmat, and majestic Ar;
From where to the morning shine
The torrents of the infant Rhine;
And wintry Rhone's tumultuous tide
Cleaves the Forked-mountain's side;
Hasli, from thy lovely dell;
From thy green hills, O Appenzell;
From the forest-crowned mere ,
Where the hardy mountaineer
Chaunts the high feats of his compatriot Tell;
They burn to meet th' invading Gaul:
“'Tis well:” the guardian Genius cries again:
“Such the port in days of yore,
“Warriors, your forefathers bore;
“Thus 'gainst many a giant foe
“They whirl'd the ax, and bent the bow.
“Then the bull and sable bear
“Together swept the ranks of war,
“And Union led the way to victory:
“This quench'd the fury of the Austrian sword;
“This crush'd the might of bold Burgundia's Lord;
“This chas'd proud Gallia's kings; this made our country free.
“Emulate your fathers' fame;
“And on your common foe united fall.
“So may the songs of future days
“You to your fathers' glory raise!
“Again may conquest crown your ranks
“On rapid Birsa's
The hospital of St. James, near Basle, not far from the confluence of the Birse with the Rhine, is celebrated for the stand made by the Swiss in 1444 against the Dauphin of France, afterwards Louis XI. Naefels and Morgarten, respectively in the cantons of Glarus and Schwitz, are no less famous as scenes of the Austrian defeats in 1388 and 1315. At Granson, towards the lower extremity of the lake of Neuchâtel, and at Morat, on the lake of Morat, were fought two battles, which effectually quelled the invasion of Switzerland by Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, in 1476. Near the latter place was erected
This building contained several inscriptions, commemorative of the event which occasioned its erection. Amongst these was one in German verse by Haller, the sentiment of which is the ground-work of the above poem. I add it here in a version of tolerable exactness, though somewhat dilated from the original, and therefore less forcible.
It speaks the fate of those redoubted troops,
Who on the pride of Liege had trod, and shook
The throne of Gallia's kings. Helvetian, know,
Not by their numbers or their well-wrought arms
Our fathers conquer'd. Nature gave them force,
And Union made that force invincible.
Helvetians! Brothers! feel your proper strength,
And be united! As your rocks ye stand
Unmoveable, if but that holy flame,
Which warm'd your fathers' bosoms, glow in yours.
It was near this chapel that General d'Erlach, commander of the Swiss troops, was posted in 1798, when the French General Brune sent to summon him to surrender. “My ancestors,” he replied, “never surrendered. Could I be base enough to think of it, yonder monument would recall me to my duty.” Brune, on becoming master of the spot, ordered the building to be destroyed, and not one stone of it now stands upon another.
“By Naefel's rocks, and green Morgarten's plain;
“Granson again, and viny Morat see
“Their waves, bloodstain'd with Gallic chivalry,
”And Freedom still unmov'd her Alpine throne maintain.
“Hence! bow the standard, break the spear!
“Discord, more fatal than the foe, shall strew
“Your strength, and burst your rocky barriers through,
“O'erwhelm'd by scornful tyranny.
“Then, tho' thy patriot chiefs advance,
“Thy warriors seize the patriot lance,
“Again my war-song sound, my banner wave;
“In vain thy echoing rocks shall spread the strain,
“Thy chieftains call, thy warriors arm in vain;
“Gallia must triumph still, and thou be still a slave!”
The lake of the four cantons; or, agreeably to the name in the language of the country, of the four forest-towns. William Tell, whose romantic history is given in Coxe's accurate account of Switzerland, was a native of Burglen, a small village not far from Altorf, in the canton of Uri. Uri is one of the four cantons that inclose the lake.
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