Of the free Alps, and beautifully bright,
And proud and tameless, laughing Fear to scorn!
It might be well!—Young Erni's*[1] step had worn
The mantling snows on their most regal steeps,
And track'd the Lynx above the clouds of morn, (9)[2]
And follow’d where the flying chamois leaps,
He was a creature of the Alpine sky,
A being, whose bright spirit had been fed
Midst the crown'd heights, with joy and liberty,
And thought of power!—He knew each path, which led
To the rock's treasure-caves, whose crystals shed
Soft light o'er secret fountains.—At the tone
Of his loud horn, the Lammer-Geyer (10)[3] had spread
A startled wing!—for oft that peal had blown
His step had track'd the waste—his soul had stirr'd
The ancient solitudes!—His voice had told
Of wrongs to call down Heaven (11)[4]!—That tale was heard
In Hasli's dales, and where the shepherds fold
Their flocks in dark ravine and craggy hold
On the bleak Oberland (12)[5], and where the light
Of day's last footstep bathes in burning gold
Great Righi's cliffs; and when Mount Pilate's height
Nor was it heard in vain!—There all things press
Deep thoughts on man!—The fearless hunter pass'd,
And from the bosom of the wilderness,
There leap'd a spirit and a power, to cast
The weight of bondage down!—And bright and fast
As the clear waters, joyously and free
Burst from the desert rock, it rush'd at last
Through the far valleys, till the Patriot Three,
They linked their hands—they pledg’d their stainless faith,
In the dread presence of attesting Heaven!
They bound their hearts to suffering and to death,
With the severe and solemn transport given
To bless such vows!—How noble men had striven,
How man might strive, and vainly strive, they knew,
And call'd upon their God, whose arm had riven
The crest of many a tyrant, since he blew
