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(From The Wanderer of Switzerland)
ON the princely towers of Berne | |
| Fell the Gallic thunder-stroke; | |
| To the lake of poor Lucerne, | |
| All submitted to the yoke. | |
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| Reding then his standard raised, | 5 |
| Drew his sword on Brunnen’s plain; | |
| But in vain his banner blazed, | |
| Reding drew his sword in vain. | |
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| Where our conquering fathers died, | |
| Where their awful bones repose, | 10 |
| Thrice the battle’s fate he tried, | |
| Thrice o’erthrew his country’s foes. | |
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| Happy then were those who fell | |
| Fighting on their father’s graves! | |
| Wretched those who lived to tell | 15 |
| Treason made the victors slaves! | |
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| Thus my country’s life retired, | |
| Slowly driven from part to part; | |
| Underwalden last expired, | |
| Underwalden was the heart. | 20 |
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| In the valley of their birth, | |
| Where our guardian mountains stand; | |
| In the eye of heaven and earth, | |
| Met the warriors of our land. | |
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| Like their sires in olden time, | 25 |
| Armed they met in stern debate; | |
| While in every breast sublime | |
| Glowed the spirit of the state. | |
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| Gallia’s menace fired their blood: | |
| With one heart and voice they rose; | 30 |
| Hand in hand the heroes stood, | |
| And defied their faithless foes. | |
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| Then to heaven, in calm despair, | |
| As they turned the tearless eye, | |
| By their country’s wrongs they sware | 35 |
| With their country’s rights to die. | |
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