As Eudora's mother stood Gazing o'er th' Egean flood, Brooding it frown'd that evil bark! There its broad pennon a shadow cast, Idly and vainly wooed the gale. Hush'd was all else had ocean's breast Rock'd e'en Eudora that hour to rest? To rest?-the waves tremble!-what piercing cry Bursts from the heart of the ship on high? What light through the heavens, in a sudden spire, Shoots from the deck up? Fire! 'tis fire! There are wild forms hurrying to and fro, There are shout, and signal-gun, and call, The might and wrath of the rushing flame! It hath touch'd the sails, and their canvass rolls The slave and his master alike are gone.- The child of thy bosom !-and lo! a brand And her veil flung back, and her free dark hair And her fragile form to its loftiest height And her eye with an eagle-gladness fraught,— 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, One moment more, and her hands are clasp'd, Her sinking knee unto Heaven is bow'd, And her last look rais'd thro' 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 Grutli, 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. |