Puslapio vaizdai
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Man may not fetter, nor ocean tame
The might and wrath of the rushing flame!
It hath twined the mast like a glittering snake,
That coils up a tree from a dusky brake;

It hath touch'd the sails, and their canvass rolls
Away from its breath into shrivell'd scrolls;
It hath taken the flag's high place in air,
And redden'd the stars with its wavy glare,
And sent out bright arrows, and soar'd in glee,
To a burning mount 'midst the moonlight sea.
The swimmers are plunging from stern and prow-
Eudora, Eudora! where, where art thou?

The slave and his master alike are gone.-
Mother! who stands on the deck alone?

The child of thy bosom !-and lo! a brand
Blazing up high in her lifted hand!

And her veil flung back, and her free, dark hair
Sway'd by the flames as they rock and flare,
And her fragile form to its loftiest height
Dilated, as if by the spirit's might,
And her eye with an eagle-gladness fraught,-
Oh! could this work be of woman wrought?
Yes! 'twas her deed!—by that haughty smile
It was her's!-She hath kindled her funeral pile!

Never might shame on that bright head be,

Her blood was the Greek's, and hath made her free.

Proudly she stands, like an Indian bride

On the pyre with the holy dead beside;

But a shriek from her mother hath caught her ear,
As the flames to her marriage-robe draw near,
And starting, she spreads her pale arms in vain
To the form they must never infold again.

One moment more, and her hands are clasp'd,
Fallen is the torch they had wildly grasp'd,

Her sinking knee unto Heaven is bow'd,

And her last look rais'd through the smoke's dim
shroud,

And her lips as in prayer for her pardon move-
Now the night gathers o'er youth and love! *

*Originally published, as well as several other of these Records, in the New Monthly Magazine.

THE SWITZER'S WIFE.

Werner Stauffacher, one of the three confederates of the field of Grütli, had been alarmed by the envy with which the Austrian Bailiff, Landenberg, had noticed the appearance of wealth and comfort which distinguished his dwelling. It was not, however, until roused by the entreaties of his wife, a woman who seems to have been of an heroic spirit, that he was induced to deliberate with his friends upon the measures by which Switzerland was finally delivered.

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Wer solch ein Herz an seinen Busen drückt,

Der kann für Herd und Hof mit Freuden fechten.
WILHELM TELL.

IT was the time when children bound to meet Their father's homeward step from field or hill, And when the herd's returning bells are sweet

In the Swiss valleys, and the lakes grow still, And the last note of that wild horn swells by, Which haunts the exile's heart with melody.

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