Memorials Of A Tour On The Continent, 1820 - XXIV. - The Italian Itinerant And The Swiss Goatherd. - Part II

I With nodding plumes, and lightly drest Like foresters in leaf-green vest, The Helvetian Mountaineers, on ground For Tell's dread archery renowned, Before the target stood, to claim The guerdon of the steadiest aim. Loud was the rifle-gun's report A startling thunder quick and short! But, flying through the heights around, Echo prolonged a tell-tale sound Of hearts and hands alike "prepared The treasures they enjoy to guard!" And, if there be a favoured hour When Heroes are allowed to quit The tomb, and on the clouds to sit With tutelary power, On their Descendants shedding grace This was the hour, and that the place. II But Truth inspired the Bards of old When of an iron age they told, Which to unequal laws gave birth, And drove Astraea from the earth. A gentle Boy (perchance with blood As noble as the best endued, But seemingly a Thing despised; Even by the sun and air unprized; For not a tinge or flowery streak Appeared upon his tender cheek) Heart-deaf to those rebounding notes, Apart, beside his silent goats, Sate watching in a forest shed, Pale, ragged, with bare feet and head; Mute as the snow upon the hill, And, as the saint he prays to, still. Ah, what avails heroic deed? What liberty? if no defense Be won for feeble Innocence. Father of all! though willful Manhood read His punishment in soul-distress, Grant to the morn of life its natural blessedness!