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Where friendly swords were drawn and ban-|To clasp thy neck, and look resembling me?
Yet seems it, c'en while life's last pulses ran, Ah! who could deem that foot of Indian crew A sweetness in the cup of death to be, Was ncar?- yet there, with Inst of mur- Lord of my bosom's love! to die beholding d'rous deeds,
thee! Gleam'd like a basilisk, from woods in view, The ambush'd foeman's eye his volley
Hushed were his Gertrude's lips! but still And Albert-Albert-falls! the dear old
their bland father bleeds! And beantiful expression seemed to melt With love that could not die! and still his
hand And tranc'd in giddy horror Gertrude swoon'd; She presses to the heart no more that felt; Yet, while she clasps him lifeless to her zone, A heart where once each fond affection Say, burst they, borrow'd from her father's
And features yet that spoke a soul more These drops ?-Oh, God! the life-blood is
fair. her own!
Mute, gazing, agonizing as he knelt,And welt'ring, on her Waldegrave's botom of them that stood encircling his despair
He heard some friendly words ;--but knew Weep not, oh love!-she cries, to see me
not what they were. bleed; Thee, Gertrude's sad survivor, thee alone Heaven's peace commiserate; for scarce 1 For now, to mourn their judge and child, heed
arrives These wounds ;-yet thee to leave is death, A faithful band. With solemn rites between, is death indeed. 'Twas sung, how they were lovely in their
And in their deaths had not divided been. Clasp me a little longer, on the brink Touch'd by the music and the melting scene, of fate! while I can feel thy dear caress; Was scarce one tearless eye amidst the crowd: And when this heart hath ceased to beat-Stern warriors, resting on their swords,
oh! think, And let it mitigate thy woe's excess, To veil their eyes, as passed each muchThat thou hast been to me all tenderness,
loved shroud; And friend to more than human friendship While woman's softer soul in woe dissolved just.
aloud. Oh! by that retrospect of happiness, And by the hopes of an immortal trust, God shall assuage thy pangs--when I am Then mournfully the parting-bugle bid laid in dust! Its farewell o'er the grave of worth and
Prone to the dust, afflicted Waldegrave hid Go, Henry, go not back, when I depart, His face on earth ;-him watched in gloomy The scene thy bursting tears too deep will
His woodland guide; but words had nonc Where my dear father took thee to his heart,
to soothe And Gertrude thought it ecstasy to rove The grief that knew not consolation's name: With thee, as with an angel, through the Casting his Indian mantle o'er the youth,
He watched, beneath its folds, each burst of peace, imagining her lot was cast
that came In heaven; for ours was not like earthly Convulsive, ague-like, across his shuddering love.
frame! And must this parting be our very last? No! I shall love thee still, when death itself
And I could weep ;--th' Oneyda chief
But that I may not stain with grief
Or bow this head in woe;
To-morrow Areouski's breath If I had lived to smile but on the birth (That fires yon heaven with storms of death) of one dear pledge ;-but shall there then Shall light us to the foe:
And we shall share, iny Christian boy, In future times-no gentle little one, The foeman's blood, the avenger's joy!
But thee, my flower, whose breath was given | Or shall we cross yon mountains blue,
Whose streams my kindred nations quaffed,
thousand warriors drew the shaft? Nor will the Christian host,
Ah! there, in desolation cold, Nor will thy father's spirit grieve,
The desart-serpent dwells alone, To see thee, on the battle's eve,
Where grass o’ergrows each mouldering bone, Lamenting, take a mournful leave
And stones themselves, to ruin grown, Of her who loved thee most:
Like me, are death-like old. She was the rain-bow to thy sight! Then seek we not their camp,-for there Thy sun-thy heaven-of lost delight! The silence dwells of my despair!
To-morrow let us do or die!
But hark, the trump!-to-morrow thou
'Twas sunset, and the Ranz des Vaches was That felt Heaven's ardent breath, and smiled sung,
below And lights were o’er th' Helvetian moun- Its flush of love, with consentaneons glow.
A Gothic church was near; the spot That gave the glacier-tops their richest
Was beautiful, even though sepulchral And tinged the lakes like molten gold below.
ground; Warmth flush'd the wonted regions of the For there nor yew nor cypress spread their storm,
gloom, Where, Phoenix-like, you saw the eagle's But roses blossomed by each rustic tomb.
Amidst them one of spotless marble shoneThat high in Heaven's vermilion wheel'd and A maiden's grave and 'twas inscribed soar'd.
thereon, Woode nearer frown'd, and cataracts dash'd That young and loved she died whose dust and roard,
was there: From heights brouzed by the bounding Yes, said my comrade, young she died, bouquetin;
and fair! Herds tinkling roam’d the long-drawn vales Grace formed her, and the soul of gladness between,
played And hamlets glitter'd white, and gardens Once in the blue eyes of that mountain-maid:
Her fingers witch'd the chords they pass'd 'Twas transport to inhale the bright sweet air!
along, The mountain-bee was revelling in its glare, And her lips seem'd to kiss the soul in song: And roving with his minstrelsy across Yet wooed, and worship'd as she was, till few The scented wild weeds, and enamell’d moss. Aspired to hope, 'twas sadly, strangely true, Earth's features so harmoniously were link’d, That heart, the martyr of its fondness, She seem'd one great glad form, with life
And died of love that could not be returned.
Her father dwelt where yonder Castle And speed each task, and tell each message shines
clear, O'er clustering trees and terrace-mantling In scenes where war-train'd men were stunn'd vines.
with fear. As gay as ever the laburnum's pride
TUBODRIC praised him, and they wept for Waves o'er each walk where she was wont
joy to glide,
In yonder house,- when letters from the boy And still the garden whence she graced her Thanked Heaven for life, and more, to use brow,
his phrase, As lovely blooms, though trode by strangers Than twenty lives-his own Commander's
praise. How oft from yonder window o'er the lake, Then follow'd glowing pages, blazoning forth Her song of wild Helvetian swell and shake, The fancied image of his Leader's worth, Has made the rudest fisher bend his ear, With such hyperboles of youthful style And rest enchanted on his oar to hear! As made his parents dry their tears and smile: Thus bright, accomplished, spirited, and But differently far his words impressed
A wond’ring sister's well-believing breast;Well-born, and wealthy for that simple land, She caught th’ illusion, blest THBODRIC's Why had no gallant native youth the art
name, To win so warm--so exquisite a heart? And wildly magnified his worth and fame; She, midst these rocks inspired with feelings Rejoicing life's reality contained
One, heretofore, her fancy had but feigned, By mountain-freedom-music-fancy-song, Whose love could make her proud; and time Herself descended from the brave in arms,
and chance And conscious of romance-inspiring charms, To passion raised that day-dream of romance. Dreamt of heroic beings; hoped to find Once, when with hasty charge of horse Some extant spirit of chivalric kind;
and man And scorning wealth, looked cold even on the Our arriere-guard had checked the Gallic
claim Of manly worth, that lacked the wreath of THEODRIC, visiting the outposts, found
His UDOLPH wounded, weltering on the Her younger brother, sixteen summers old,
ground :And much her likeness both in mind and Sore crushed,-half-swooning, half-upraised, mould,
he lay, Had gone, poor boy! in soldiership to shine, And bent his brow, fair boy! and grasped And bore an Austrian banner on the Rhine.
the clay: 'Twas when, alas! our Empire's evil star His fate moved even the common soldier's Shed all the plagues, without the pride of war;
ruthWhen patriots bled, and bitterer anguish THEODRIC succourd him; nor left the youth
To vulgar hands, but brought him to his Our brave, to die in battles foully lost.
tent • The youth wrote home the rout of many a And lent what aid a brother would have lent.
Meanwhile, to save his kindred half the Yet still he said, and still with truth could say,
smart One corps had ever made a valiant stand, The war-gazette's dread blood-roll might The corps in which he served,—Theodric's
He wrote th' event to them; and soon could His fame, forgotten chief, is now gone by,
tell Eclipsed by brighter orbs in glory's sky; of pains assuaged and symptoms auguring Yet once it shone, and veterans, when they
And last of all, prognosticating cure, Our fields of battle twenty years ago, Enclosed the leach's vouching signature. Will tell you feats his small brigade per- Their answers, on whose pages you might formed,
note In charges nobly faced and trenches stormed. That tears had fallen, whilst trembling Time was, when songs were chanted to his
fingers wrote, fame
Gave boundless thanks for benefits conferr’d, And soldiers loved the march that bore his of which the boy, in secret, sent them word,
Whose memory Time, they said, would never The zeal of martial hearts was at his call,
blot; And that Helvetian, Udolph's, most of all. But which the giver had himself forgot. 'Twas touching, when the storm of war In time. the stripling, vigorous and healed,
Resumed his barb and banner in the field, To see a blooming boy,--almost a child. And bore himself right soldier-like, till now Spur fearless at his leader's words and signs, The third campaign had manlier bronzed Brave death in reconnoitring hostile lines,
When peace, though but a scanty pause for Th’ illumined atmosphere was warm and breath,
bland, A curtain-drop between the acts of death, And Beauty's groups, the fairest of the land, A check in frantic war's unfinished game, Conspicuous, as in some wide festive room, Yet dearly bought, and direly welcome, came. In open chariots passed with pearl and plume. The camp broke up, and Udolph left his chief Amidst them he remarked a lovelier mien As with a son's or younger brother’s grief: Than e'er his thoughts had shaped, or eyes But journeying home, how rapt his spirits
had seen: rose!
The throng detained her till he reined his How light his footsteps crush'd St. Gothard's
And, ere the beauty passed, had time to read How dear seemed even the waste and wild The motto and the arms her carriage bore.
Shreckhorn, Led by that clue, he left not England's Though wrapt in clouds, and frowning as
shore in scorn
Till he had known her: and to know her well Upon a downward world of pastoral charms; Prolonged, exalted, bound, enchantment's Where, by the very smell of dairy-farms,
spell; And fragrance from the mountain-herbage For with affections warm, intense, refined,
She mixed such calm and holy strength of Blindfold his native hills he could have
That, like heaven's image in the smiling His coming down yon lake,– his boat in
Celestial peace was pictured in her look. Of windows where love's fluttering kerchief Hers was the brow, in trials unperplexed,
That cheered the sad and tranquillized the The arms spread out for him—the tears
vexed : that burst,
She studied not the meanest to eclipse, ('Twas Julia's, 'twas his sister's met him And yet the wisest listened to her lips;
She sang not, knew not Music's magic skill, Their pride to see war's medal at his breast, But yet her voice had tones that swayed the And all their rapture's greeting, may be
He sought-he won her-and resolved to Ere long, his bosom triumph'd to unfold
make A gift he meant their gayest room to hold, - His future home in England for her sake. The picture of a friend in warlike dress; Yet, ere they wedded, matters of concern And who it was he first bade Julia guess. To CÆSAR's Court commanded his return, Yes, she replied, 'twas he methought in sleep, A season's space,—and on his Alpine way, When you were wounded, told me not to weep. He reach'd those bowers, that rang with The painting long in that sweet mansion
joy that day: drew
The boy was half beside himself,—the sire, Regards its living semblance little knew. All frankness, honour, and Helvetian fire,
Meanwhile THEODRIC, who had years before of speedy parting would not hear him speak; Learnt England's tongue, and loved her and tears bedewed and brightened Julia's classic lore,
cheek. A glad enthusiast now explored the land, Thus, loth to wound their hospitable pride, Where Nature, Freedom, Art, smile hand A month he promised with them to abide;
in hand :
As blithe he trode the mountain-sward as Her women fair; her men robust for toil;
they, Her vigorous souls, high-cultured as her soil; And felt his joy make even the young more Her towns, where civic independence flinga
gay. The gauntlet down to senates, courts, and How jocund was their breakfast-parlour kings;
fanned Her works of art, resembling magic's powers; By yon blue water's breath,—their walks Her mighty fleets, and learning's beauteous
how bland! bowers,
Fair JULIA seemed her brother's softened These he had visited, with wonder's smile,
spriteAnd scarce endur'd to quit so fair an isle. A gem reflecting Nature's purest light,But how our fates from unmomentous things And with her graceful wit there was inMay rise, like rivers out of little springs!
wrought A trivial chance postponed his parting day, A wildly sweet unworldliness of thought, And public tidings caused, in that delay, That almost child-like to his kindness drew, An English jubilee. 'Twas a glorious sight; And twin with Udolph in his friendship grew. At eve stupendous London, clad in light, But did his thoughts to love one moment Poured out triumphant multitudes to gaze;
range?Youth, age, wealth, penury, smiling in the No! he who had loved CONSTANCE could not blaze;
Besides, till grief betrayed her undesigned, But no, she cried, unsay not what you 'vc Th' unlikely thought could scarcely reach
said, bis mind,
Nor grudge one prop on which my pride That eyes so young on years like his should
is stayed ; beam
To think I could have merited your faith, Unwooed devotion back for pure esteem. Shall be my solace even unto death.
True she sang to his very soul, and brought JULIA, THEODRIC said,- with purposed look Those trains before him of luxuriant thought, of firmness--my reply deserved rebuke; Which only Music's heaven-born art can But by your pure and sacred peace of mind,
And by the dignity of womankind, To sweep across the mind with angel-wing. Swear that when I am gone you 'll do your Once, as he smiled amidst that waking trance,
best She paused o'ercome: he thought it might To chase this dream of fondness from your be chance,
breast. And, when his first suspicions dimly stole, The abrupt appeal electrified her thought; Rebuked them back like phantoms from his She looked to Heaven, as if its aid she soul.
sought, But when he saw his caution gave her pain, Dried hastily the tear-drops from her cheek, And kindness brought suspense's rack again, And signified the vow she could not speak. Faith, honour, friendship bound him to Ere long he communed with her mother unmask
mild: Truths which her timid fondness feared to ask. Alas! she said, I warned-conjured my child,
And yet with gracefully ingenuous power And grieved for this affection from the first,
fixed, That told she knew their love no vulgar And when your name in all she spoke was prize;
mixed, And pride, like that of one more woman- 'Twas hard to chide an over-grateful mind!
Then each attempt a likelier choice to find Enlarged her mien, enrich'd her voice's tone. Made only fresh-rejected suitors grieve, 'Twas then she struck the keys, and music And Udolph's pride-perhaps her ownmade
believe That mocked all skill her hand had e'er That could she meet, she might enchant displayed :
even you. Inspired and warbling, rapt from things You came.—I augаred the event, 'tis true,
But how was UDOLPH's mother to exclude She looked the very Muse of magic sound, The guest that claimed our boundless graPainting in sound the forms of joy and woe,
titude? Until the mind's eye saw them melt and glow. And that unconscious you had cast a spell Her closing strain composed and calm she On Julia's peace, my pride refused to tell ;
Yet in my child's illusion I have seen, And sang no words to give its pathos aid; Believe me well, how blameless you have But grief seemed lingering in its lengthened
Nor can it cancel, howsoe'er it end, And like so many tears the trickling touches Our debt of friendship to our boy's best fell.
friend.of Constance then she heard T ABODRIC Speak, At night he parted with the aged pair; And steadfast smoothness still possessed her At early morn rose Julia to prepare
The last repast her hands for him should But when he told her how he oft had planned
make; Of old a journey to their mountain-land, And UpoLPH to convoy him o'er the lake. That might have brought him hither years The parting was to her such bitter grief,
That of her own accord she made it bries; Ah! then, she cried, you knew not England's But, lingering at her window, long surveyed
His boat's last glimpses melting into shade. And, had you come--And wherefore did THEODRIC sped to Austria, and achieved
His journey's object. Much was he relieved Yes, he replied, it would have changed our When Upolpu's letters told that Julia's mind
Had borne his loss firm, tranquil, and Then burst her tears through pride's re
resigned. straining bands He took the Rhenish route to England, high And with her handkerchief and both her Elate with hopes,-fulfilled their ecstasy,
And interchanged with Constance's own She hid her face and wept.- Contrition stung
breath THEodric for the tears his words had wrung. The sweet eternal vows that bound their faith.