University of Virginia Library

Now shine auspicious on my arduous task,
Ye Sisters of the Lyre; who on the top
Of fair Parnassus blooming garlands wreathe,
To bind the temples of those happy few
Ye deign to call your own!—'Tis not enough
That I invok'd you, when my daring pen
First trac'd this Theme, of Freedom; still vouchsafe
To guide it onward;—for I call you not,
Celestial Maids, to hang an amorous Lay
On Beauty's shrine, or aid some trivial song;
'Tis your own cause—'Tis yours to rend the veil.
Of dark Oblivion, and bring forth to Day
Virtue's firm votaries!—To fix on high,
Beyond Time's envious reach, the Hero's name,
On Fame's immortal scroll; that it may thence
Shine to succeeding Ages, and inspire
Mankind to imitate what you record!—

'Twas now that hour of silence and repose,
The Dead of Night, when Darkness, like the Grave,
Hides all distinction—when the Fairy Tribe,
As ancient story goes, beneath the bush
Of rose, or woodbine, hold nocturnal sports;
And Witches crouching under blasted trees,
Mutter their mischiefs—restless, and forlorn,
Alien alike to Virtue, as to Peace,
In some sequester'd corner pines the Wretch
Whom conscious Guilt torments—now all the pomp.
Which pours its idle flatt'ries round the Great,
And dazzles and deludes the vulgar eye,
Remains unnotic'd; and awaits the morn
To ask again its homage—Calmly sunk
In slumbers such as Temperance insures,
On his low pallet stretch'd, the Lab'rour lies,
Pillow'd by soft Content; nor sighs to know
The dreams of Princes, near whose stately beds
Pale Care his melancholy vigil keeps.—

The village clocks around the Lake struck Twelve,
And cross Lucerno's waters with shrill note
Twang'd on the silent air; speaking the hour,
Th'important hour's approach, destin'd to fix
The future fortune of this injur'd Land;
But speaking it unto those ears alone
That conscious knew the summons—Nor did they
Such monitor require—for slowly creeps
The tardy foot of Time, when the soul teems
With deeds of import, and impatient waits
The executing moment.—Onward came
Led by three different paths, the Patriot Chiefs,
By Fate selected, midst these rugged scenes
To plant that Freedom, which in after years
Should shoot, should flourish, and its blessings spread,
O'er all Helvetia's Sons.—Pensive they walk'd,
Warm'd by such virtuous ardour as inspir'd
The Roman spirit, when the name of Rome
In rigid honor bright, from the wide world
Claim'd reverence—Faithful at th'appointed place
They duly join'd.—It was a clay-wall'd Hut,
Bosom'd in tufted trees, which on the verge
Of craggy pastures sloping to the Lake
Stood hid in silent shade; where, when the heats
Of Summer rag'd, the shepherd-boy was wont
Careless to stretch his limbs, what time his flock
Cropp'd the sweet wild-thyme, or the umbrage sought
Of some o'er-shadowing cliff.—'Tis not the place
Which dignifies the act!—The noble mind
Is ev'ry where the same!—Nor let the Great
Who hold their councils but in tapstry'd halls,
Deride this simple scene.—O! would to Heav'n!
That all who sit in Senates, and decide
The plans of Empire, thither went with minds
As firmly independent, or as warm
To feel with indignation ev'ry wrong
That shakes their Country's peace!—The door now clos'd,
Suspended from a beam one lamp was hung
To cheer the gloomy walls; and in each face
Such greeting shew'd, as is far stronger told
By looks, than language.—When De Stauffach thus
Op'd the nocturnal meeting—“Welcome, Friends,
And welcome Brothers; for the name of Friend,
As that of Brother, best belongs to those
Whom one good Principle, one honest Fame
Unite in Love: albeit that the world
Adulterates the titles!—We are met,
Like pious Children round an aged Sire,
To prop his feeble arm, his silver hairs
From infamy protect, and to his griefs
Speak comfort—such our task—and such a Sire
Our Country is; far other times than these
Once us'd to know—This State, which first beheld
Our dawn of life, which rear'd our youthful years,
Which saw us shoot to manhood, and hath yet
Preserv'd our properties, now calls aloud
Complaining; summons ev'ry honest breast
To feel its wrongs, and with a parent's voice
Chides our unkind delay: each hour we breathe,
The stern Vicegerents of proud Austria
Tread on our sacred rights! judging their wills
To be our only laws.—Say, shall the tide
Of wanton pow'r o'erwhelm us? shall we sink,
Nor buffet with the torrent?—Is it meet
We stand unmov'd spectators? tamely gaze
Whilst the destroying flame lays all things waste?
Rather let's leap into the funeral pile,
And with our Country's ashes, mix our own.—
He, who was born to Freedom, ne'er forgets
The charms of Liberty, or e'er can bear
Oppression's iron hand!—Yet think, my friends,
Smiling at human arrogance, aloft
Th'Eternal Justice sits, with arm prepar'd
To crush the ripen'd Tyrant, and avenge
The conflicts of the Brave—There rest your trust—
Haply through this dim labyrinth, his hand
May shape our course, and point in our distress
Some honourable means to loose our chains
E'er yet they bind too hard, e'er yet sweet Hope
Be but an empty name.—Better to die
Than live inglorious! happier far not be.
Than be dependent on another's nod!—
Ye guardian rocks, that round our little states
Irregularly noble, raise your heads
Majestic, down whose woody sides the rills
Urge their wild course; how jocund was I wont
To gaze upon you all?—how raptur'd once
Rang'd I your clifted steeps? with Nature charm'd,
And fair Simplicity:—and thou, lov'd Lake,—
Who play'st in murmurs at their stony feet
Thou too my joy hast witness'd: seen the smiles
Content paints on the peaceful brow!—But now,
Ye guardian rocks, that round our little states
Irregularly noble, raise your heads
Majestic, down whose woody sides the rills
Urge their wild course, no longer do I range
Jocund, your clifted steeps; the echo sweet
Of Liberty no more allures!—And thou
Lov'd Lake, who murmur'st at their stony feet,
Must henceforth cease to witness to my joy,
Nor more canst charm! for tyranny, alas!
Hath stain'd thy streams, and every spring is foul!”—

Here paus'd the Patriot; for adown his cheek
Quick roll'd th'involuntary tear, and stop'd
His fault'ring voice; it was the tribute paid
By Sensibility to Social Love!—
Not for himself he wept, no private loss:
His gen'rous mind embrac'd a suff'ring land
And unborn generations—Tears like these
How rarely see we now!—Yet howsoe'er
A sordid interest, or selfish views
Mislead an erring world, the human soul
Ne'er shines more bright, than when she feels, and aids
The wretchedness of others!—On such worth
Approving Heav'n looks down, and, smiling, bids
Recording angels register the deed!—

With countenance attentive, Furst took in
His friend's complaint;—and added, “Nor to me
Less odious is the cause which brings us here;
'Tis ever present to my thoughts; when morn
Calls up the healthful Hind, or evening calm
Bids peace to man;—but unto such as me
Bids it in vain! for restless slumber they
Who taste Affliction's cup: on my worn heart
Still preys the bitter draught, and mocks repose—
Or when tir'd Nature haply yields, even then
Fancy for ever pregnant, to my sense
Pictures her visionary shapes, nor scarce
Allows my sorrows pause.—Last night I dreamt,
(Nor slight a dream, tho' reason interdict
Too fond a credit) that beneath the shade
Of a tall spreading oak, whose branches cheer
My small paternal Farm, I musing sat
My Country's fortune; how the hand of Fate
To states, to princes, and to private men
Portions their bliss and woe; when I beheld
An aged Form approach me, which portray'd
My Father's person, whose dear mem'ry yet
Is green amongst us;—Drest methought he stood
As he was wont; and tho' my throbbing heart
Panted for utt'rance, yet a tremor seiz'd
My agitated spirits, and deny'd
My tongue its office; whilst with aspect mild,
And looks that breath'd benevolence and love,
He thus reliev'd me—“Far dispell'd, my son,
“Be all that can alarm thee; view me here
“A friendly visitant; nor unto me
“Unknown thy suff'rings, or the worthy flame
“Thy soul is nourishing! I only come
“To give it life.—If honour's virtuous seeds
“Are not extinct, which in thy youthful mind
“With early care I cherish'd, let them now
“In vigour shoot, and blossom into fame.—
“Affliction is our touchstone, she alone
“Best shews us what we are, and summons up
“In the great hour of trial and effect,
“A strength we knew not of!—The time, my son,
“Is nearly ripe, when this long-injur'd land
“Shall claim thy service—Give it as a man;
“And thank the Heav'ns who call thee to assert
“The glorious cause of Freedom.”—Saying this
He seem'd in act to part, whilst at his feet
I threw me to embrace his rev'rend knees,
And urge his longer stay;—when into air
He melted like a vapour.—On my sense
Yet still th'impression of the Phantom lives;
And there shall live, and prove my guiding Star.—
The time is near (so said the honour'd Shade)
To claim our services—And how so well
Can we restore our groaning Country's peace,
As from the hand of Pow'r boldly to wrest
The staff of Office, whose oppressive sway
Too long we've suffer'd?—Of their solemn trust
When those ordain'd the Guardians of our laws
Become forgetful, or misuse their charge,
Plum'd in authority; 'tis Virtue then,
Nay our strict duty, to protect ourselves,
And thunder in their ears, They are but men,
As such responsible.—For say, my friends.
What is the cement of our concord here?
Or what the bonds which hold in amity
The peopled world?—Sprung from one gen'ral bed,
Great Nature's children, we are all born free,
And claim our birthright—But that Pow'r supreme,
Who fashion'd first our complicated frame,
Ne'er meant the soul of man should be controul'd
By those base views which only move around
The centre of self-love—Our mutual wants,
Our mutual means of aid, call'd forth to view
Each nobler virtue, and awak'd the mind
To Friendship—to Benevolence—to Fame.—
Hence rose Society; Hence those dear names
Which heart to heart unite,—and man to man;
Hence all the tend'rest ties our bosoms know,—
Hence Life's sublimest raptures—Nations met
As one vast family, to share alike
The future Cloud, or Sun-shine.—While the cause,
Or injury of each, was felt by all,
And strictly judg'd—Rulers were chosen out
As gen'ral Parents, to protect their rights
And vindicate their wrongs; whilst unto them
Honor, obedience, and respect were due,
As their just tribute paid.—This mutual chain
Links States, and Empires; 'tis the compact firm
Of kings and subjects; but if once 'tis broke,
Or should this gen'ral Parent e'er betray
His sacred trust, or prove a gen'ral foe;
The reign of Nature must again return,
And her first, strongest law, is—Self-defence.”

To whom, thus Melchtal—“Worthy countrymen,
I with an eager ear have unto both
Listen'd attentively; and all you've said
Seems to wear Reason's stamp.—His native rights
Man never should relinquish—for the soul
By Tyranny feels its bright powers debas'd,
Its faculties relax'd—'Tis Virtue's grave!—
And all those generous springs on which she moves
When Liberty's fair smiles protect her hopes,
There lie entomb'd!—their ashes but produce
A principle of conduct tenfold base,
I even shrink to name it,—abject Fear!—
The Freedom by our Ancestors obtain'd,
And unto us devolv'd, we hold in Trust;
It is a sacred Pledge left in our hands,
Of which we're but the Guardians, strictly bound
To yield it up to our posterity
Pure, and unstain'd.—O then, let Pity's eye
Dart thro' the veil of years, and view the Race
Who shall spring from us; and in after times,
When we're consign'd to dust, live in our stead,
Tread the same path, with passions, and with hopes
Like us endu'd, and all their claims as just!—
This crisis slipt, they may hereafter want
Force to regain what we ignobly lost!—
But grant they should—By Time the mind is taught
Patient to bear its ills; and as the rays
Of Liberty decline, in the dark mist
Which clouds its setting, Public Virtue sinks!—
The rampant Lion taken in the toils
Shakes fierce his shaggy mane, and combats hard
To rend the chain that holds him; but his Cub
Rear'd in a cage, unconscious of the joy
To range the wilds, fawns at his keeper's feet,
And, quite forgetful of his nature, yields.”—

“Believe me, it transports my swelling soul,”
Rejoin'd De Stauffach, “to observe your breasts
Thus kindled by a flame which noble minds
Alone can feel—Truth hangs upon your lips,
And ev'ry argument with trumpet voice,
Cries “sleep no more,” Danger is at our gate,
And flutters round our roof with Raven wing,
The prophet of our fate—That which you urge
For our Posterity, is that of all
Which wounds the deepest, and pleads most within.—
Were we alone the suff'rers, we alone
Could bear the lot—our morn of life is o'er—
'Twere but to pass its ev'ning with disgust,
And close it somewhat hardly!—But for those
Who must succeed us—should we cloud their hopes,
Turn all their flow'ry walks to paths of thorns,
Entail distress, and, sad inheritance!
Bequeath them nought but Bondage—O! alas!
Think how severely they would judge of us
Who saw the storm, yet left untry'd the means
To screen them from its blast!—Babes would learn
To stammer out the base perfidious names
Of Melchtal, Furst, and Stauffach; and old Men,
Sitting in Summer eves before their doors
With all their gather'd family around,
Relate our shameful story!—Heav'n! avert
A guilt so deep as this!—If that our names,
When we've descended to the realms of Death,
And Earth's return'd to Earth, by chance exist,
Ne'er let Reproach sit mocking o'er our grave,
And with contemptuous hand, point—“here they lie!”—
No—let us act, that whether we are doom'd
To triumph, or to sink, our future Race
May joy to own us, may revere our deeds,
And crown our memories with grateful praise.”

As ere the deep-ton'd Thunder's voice is heard
Th'anticipating Lightning darts around
A momentary notice; so, with looks
That quicker than his tongue his feelings told,
Furst thus exclaim'd—“There needs not further words
To urge thy purpose; Thee, our faithful guide,
We'll follow resolute—and what I speak
Is but our common wish; my Melchtal's eyes
Look approbation—point us out the path,
We'll loiter not behind.—How poor is life!
Its joys how chill'd, when Liberty is lost!
If joys may then exist; when the curb'd mind
No longer dares to reason, but perceives
At ev'ry turn a barrier, and must bow
To each fantastic mandate—'Tis a state
Fit but for Coward slaves, who shrink at death,
And guard on hardest terms a fickle flame
Each wind may terminate—The truly Brave
Know no such feelings, but with fix'd Resolve
Combat Misfortune, nor from Danger start.—
And many such as these, our cause divulg'd,
We'll find amidst our friends, our destin'd lot
Of Fame, or Peril, emulous to share.
Justice shall guide us, and her champions arm
With that good sword which half obtains the prize,
And oft to Vict'ry leads—a Conscious Right.”—

Thus plainly reason'd They—their maxims drawn
From Nature's artless volume, read by minds
Which Virtue had inform'd.—Compar'd to this,
How vain the idle sophistry of schools!
The pride of pedantry, or Learning's boast!—
Thank Heav'n! nor needs there these, to teach mankind
Their duty to themselves, and to the World!—

“Nor think that we alone are pointed out,”
Resum'd De Stauffach, “by the hand of Fate,
And mark'd unfortunate; look but around
The peopled Globe, in Time's revolving course
All have their Tyrants, all their hours of Woe!—
And as I well perceive the gen'rous sparks
Of Freedom glow within you, let me now
Augment their ardour, whilst I open lay
Th'historic page, and to your ears unfold
A deed of Fame, unknown perchance to you.

“Tho' lock'd from Infancy, within the Bounds
Of these your barrier mountains, somewhat sure
You must have heard of Rome? the glorious seat
Of Arts and Arms, once Mistress of the World;
To whom obedient Kings in ev'ry clime
Submissive bow'd, and own'd Her pow'r supreme?
You may have heard of Cæsar too, whose sword
Subdu'd the brave Helvetii, and defil'd
These peaceful regions with the stains of War—
Become the Leader of those num'rous hosts
Who rul'd the fate of Empires, round his head
The blooming laurel twin'd, and the loud voice
Of each Plebeian rais'd him to the skies:
But not content to share those high rewards
The Roman state conferr'd, his restless soul,
Lur'd by Ambition's visionary schemes,
Aspiring still, strove to be Lord of all.—

“But while this cloud hung gath'ring over Rome,
A few there were who mark'd with jealous eye
This daring Man; saw, that at ev'ry step
He trampled on their Rights, that ev'ry day
But pictur'd Freedom lost—E'en now my heart,
By our too sad similitude of Woe
Feels their distress!—Shall I go on, and say
How oft they met? how oft deplor'd their fate,
And pour'd their thoughts into each other's breast?
Or of the league they swore to end his reign
Who thus had all the various rays of Pow'r
Centred within himself?—But I should first
Have told you, chief of these was Cæsar's friend,
By name a Brutus, in his fost'ring smiles
Rais'd, and protected; but whose patriot mind,
When by this gen'ral insult rouz'd, at once
Cancell'd all private ties—“Ye righteous Gods!
“If that I err,” he cry'd, as on the sword
Which seal'd their mutual oath, his hand he laid,
“If that I err, my error wash my crime!
“Much to my Friend I owe,—my Country more;
“And judge me, if I not esteem the debt
“This native soil demands, beyond the bonds
“Which link our partial int'rests.”—To be brief,
His fatal hour was fix'd, and each prepar'd
To stamp it with renown—In blaze of day,
Amidst th'assembled senate as he sat,
They plung'd their daggers in his breast, and gave
To Rome once more its Freedom—Victim like,
Thus mighty Cæsar fell, on whom mankind
Had rivetted so long their wond'ring eyes,
A sacrifice to Justice.—Yet his dust
Fame still protects, scatt'ring around his Urn
Full many a flow'r, which graceful would have breath'd
Their blushing sweets, had not a Tyrant's name
With its dark shadow half their lustre hid!”—

He ended, and what time he thus describ'd
Rome's bravest Soldier, and her direst Foe,
With greedy ear the list'ning Two imbib'd
The Home-felt Tale, which shew'd the rigid force
Of public Virtue, that could thus prevail
O'er an admiring People, and subdue
E'en Friendship's tend'rest claims—nought they reply'd,
But side by side stood rooted; till at length
With ardent looks, they mutually grasp'd hands,
And shot their souls in at each other's eye,
Pregnant with noblest purpose—well conceiv'd
Of Both—for where concurrent Passions meet
There needs no Herald's trumpet to announce
Their meaning!—Language here had all been vain!
Unequal to the workings of the Mind—

The awful silence of this solemn Scene
De Stauffach breaking, thus his speech renew'd.
“I see you're deeply touch'd—and who like you,
Born with such spirits as are given to curb
Th'Oppressor's arrogance, can hear unmov'd
Th'achievements of the Brave?—In gen'rous Minds
There is a sympathy by Nature's hand
Wisely imprest, making them prompt to feel
Their mutual Injuries!—yet, thanks to Heav'n,
Albeit the Insults of Licentious Pow'r,
As it did Rome, hath gall'd us with its yoke,
Our lot's less hard; the part we have to act
Asks not the dagger's aid—for ill is drawn
The sword that stirs up civil strife;—to peace
It rarely leads!—When forth in terrors stalk
Rage, and Revenge, who fitly can describe
The Horrors that ensue? or the dread scenes
Of bloody Contest? which too often miss
Their purpos'd good; and like to Rivers swell'd
With sudden rains, lay waste the fertile banks
They should have bless'd!—Let us forthwith select
A faithful band, and with matureness weigh
The means of doing right—Our ripen'd strength,
And ripen'd councils, then may boldly dare
To disallow the tributary claims
Of haughty Austria, nay disown her sway
So long usurp'd, and from our States expell
Her sanction'd Rulers, never to return
Whilst e'en one arm is left to cross their way.—
What now remains for us, but here to pledge
Our Lives, our Fortunes, and our Fame, in bonds
That death alone shall cancel, ev'ry joy
Henceforth renouncing, till we have restor'd
Peace to our injur'd Country, or have fall'n
Undaunted victims of the gen'ral wreck.—
This be our League, and with a warm embrace
Thus let us sign it on each other's breast.”

So saying, close around each other's neck
In cordial clasp they twin'd their folded arms,
Firm seal of plighted Faith! while strongly throbb'd
Each heart, as bearing record, and the tear
Which glister'd tremulous on ev'ry eye
Stood prologue of that manly, social love
Which Virtue stir'd within—“Thus let us stand”
They cry'd, “a Bulwark 'gainst our Foes;—And Thou,
Great God of Justice, from thy starry Throne
Witness, and aid our Truth!—And ye bright Saints
Who once like us were mortal, and like us
Once trod the paths of Sorrow, liv'd in times
Of trials most severe, and like us doom'd
To combat hard for Freedom!—wheresoe'er
Ye unembody'd dwell, still to our minds
Be present—By your great Examples fir'd,
Let us be taught firmly to persevere,
And learn from You,—to triumph,—or to fall!”—

Thus clos'd the Council, for they now had mark'd
The far advance of Night, and lest the eye
Of prying Jealousy might o'er their deeds
Suspicion cast, the ever faithful voice
Of Prudence caution'd to withdraw—So each
Seeking again the way by which he came,
Homeward return'd; determin'd to embrace,
As Heav'n should will,—or Liberty—or Death.—

Congenial Spirits! Great as those that grac'd
The Greek or Roman Annals, when they shone
Most glorious—If aright th'enraptur'd Muse
Can read Futurity's dim page, this League
On Virtue's firm foundation shall uprear
That Freedom, which Helvetia's Sons shall know
For long succeeding ages!—As aloft
From its slight shaft the Cedar shoots, and spreads
Wide its extending branches; from this Night
So shall such ardour for the Public Good,
Such thirst of Glory spring, that far around
Its blessings stretching, neighb'ring States shall strive
To emulate your deeds, and stand enroll'd
Confed'rates in your fame!—Austria shall rue
Her hour of Insult; and when bright array'd
In all the pomp of battle, she returns
To punish your Revolt, Mongarten's hills,
(Which like Thermopylæ that saw o'erthrown
The mighty host of Persia,) shall instruct
Th'astonish'd World, what Valour can achieve,
When Liberty and Justice are its prize—
Yes—at Mongarten's Pass, the Muse surveys
Your little Bands, firm as the Rocks they guard,
By you conducted, so appal the foe,
Tho' more than trebly trebling your account,
That all their routed Legions, pale with shame,
In terror fly before you—This Great Day
Confirms your glorious triumph, and that Peace
Austria shall shake no more!—Nor less in Arms
Than Wisdom conqu'ring, well-digested Laws,
Temp'rance, and simplest Manners, shall invite
Alliances so strengthen'd, as shall give
Your self-protected Regions a new Name,
And new Existence; which, whilst by your Sons
Kept uncorrupted, will, I trust, endure
Long as your cloud-top'd mountains!—Unto you,
First Founders of these blessings, shall be paid,
To latest times, in ev'ry grateful form,
Your Country's tribute;—The historic page
Shall chronicle your worth—And Sculptures rude,
With zeal-wrought Paintings, both inform and fire
Th'unletter'd mind!—Nay, ev'ry spot, where once
Ye met, or dwelt, shall Piety devote
To sacred use, and dedicate to Heav'n!—

Those value Freedom most, and guard it best,
Who bought it dearest!—Then, Illustrious Chiefs!
If in those realms where virtuous spirits rest
When human toils are o'er, aught here below
Can give an added transport to your Joys,
Amidst these honours of your native States,
For what your Wisdom plann'd, your Valour won,
Deem not this tributary Verse the least,
Since it is offer'd by a Briton's hand!—

And now Hyperion with his ruddy cheeks
Rose from his wat'ry bed, and to his car
Leash'd his swift steeds, impatient to begin
Their Course diurnal: while the opening light
Preceding like his Herald, shot its rays
O'er all the Eastern hills—The Village-Cock
Stretching his wings awakes the lab'ring Hind,
And strutting round his cottage, loud proclaims,
With clarion shrill—the Advent of the morn.—