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How fair its lawns and sheltering woods appear ! I am happy in being conscious I shall have one How sweet its streamlet murmurs in mine ear! reader who will approach the conclusion of these few Where we, my Friend, to happy days shall rise, pages with regret. You they must certainly interest, "Till our small share of hardly-paining sighs
in reminding you of moments to which you can hardly (For sighs will ever trouble human breath)
look back without a pleasure not the less dear from a Creep hushed into the tranquil breast of Death. shade of melancholy. You will meet with few images
without recollecting the spot where we observed them? But now the clear bright Moon her zenith gains,
together; consequently, whatever is feeble in my deAnd rimy without speck extend the plains ;
sign, or spiritless in my colonring, will be amply sup The deepest dell the mountain's front displays
plied by your own memory. Scarce hides a shadow from her searching rays; With still greater propriety I might have inscribed From the dark-blue '“ faint silvery threads” divide
to you a description of some of the features of your The hills, while gleams below the azure tide;
native mountains, through which we have wandered The scene is wakened, yet its peace unbroke,
together, in the same manner, with so much pleasure. By silvery wreaths of quiet charcoal smoke,
But the sea-sunsets, which give such splendour to the That, o'er the ruins of the fallen wood,
vale of Clwyd, Snowdon, the chair of Idris, the quiet Steal down the hills, and spread along the flood.
village of Bethgelert, Menai and her Druids, the AlThe song of mountain streams, unheard by day,
pine steeps of the Conway, and the still more interestNow hardly heard, beguiles my homeward way.
ing windings of the wizard stream of the Dee, remain Air listens, as the sleeping water still,
Apprehensive that my pencil may To catch the spiritual music of the hill,
never be exercised on these subjects, I cannot let slip Broke only by the slow clock tolling deep,
shoulders. How much more of heart between the two | Where with loud voice the power of water shakes
this opportunity of thus publicly assuring you with Or shout that wakes the ferry-man from sleep,
how much affection and esteem Soon followed by his hollow-parting oar,
I am, dear Sir, And echoed hoof approaching the far shore;
Most sincerely yours, Sound of closed gate, across the water borne,
Happiness (if she had been to be found on Earth) The distant forge's swinging thump profound ;
amongst the Charms of Nature Pleasures of Or yell, in the deep woods, of lonely hound.
the pedestrian Traveller - Author crosses France to the Alps — Present State of the Grande Chartreuse - Lake of Como — Time, Sunset Same
Scene, Twilight-Same Scene, Morning, its voDESCRIPTIYE SKETCHES,
luptuous Character; Old Man and Forest Cottage TAKEN DURING A PEDESTRIAN TOUR AMONG
Music - River Tusa - Via Mala and Grison THE ALPS.
Gipsy - Sckellenen-thal — Lake of Uri — Stormy 771-3,
Sunset - Chapel of William Tell — Force of TO THE REV. ROBERT JONES,
Local Emotion - Chamois-chaser — View of the FELLOW OF ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.
higher Alps — Manner of Life of a Swiss Moun
taineer, interspersed with Views of the higher However desirous I might have been of giving you
Alps — Golden Age of the Alps — Life and proofs of the high place you hold in my esteem, I
Views continued - Ranz des Vaches, famous strould have been cautious of wounding your delicacy
Swiss Air — Abbey of Einsiedlen and its Pilgrims by thus publicly addressing you, had not the circum
- Valley of Chamouny - Mont Blanc — Slavery stance of tny having accompanied you among the Alps,
of Savoy - Influence of Liberty on Cottage Hapseemed to give this dedication a propriety sufficient to
piness - France — Wish for the Extirpation of do away any scruples which your modesty might other
Slavery - Conclusion.
WERE there, below, a spot of holy ground la inscribing this little work to you, I consult my Where from distress a refuge might be found, beart
. You know well how great is the difference be. And solitude prepare the soul for heaven; tween two companions lolling in a post-chaise, and two Sure, Nature's God that spot to man had given travellers plodding slowly along the road, side by side, where falls the purple morning far and wide fuck with his little knapsack of necessaries upon his In Aakes of light upon the mountain side;
i The leafy wood, or sleeps in quiet lakes.
wise bave suggested.
Yet not unrecompensed the man shall roam, That thundering tube the aged angler hears, Wno at the call of summer quits his home,
And swells the groaning torrent with his tears;. And plods through some far realm o'er vale and height, From Bruno's forest screams the affrighted jay, Though seeking only holiday delight;
And slow the insulted eagle wheels away.
The cross, by angels on the aërial rock
The "parting Genius” sighs with hollow breath Though every passing zephyr whispers joy;
Along the mystic streams of Life and Death.[ Brisk tal, alternating with ready ease,
Swelling the outcry dull, that long resounds Feeds the clear current of his sympathies.
Portentous through her old woods' trackless bounds For him sod seats the cottage door adorn;
Vallombre, 'mid her falling fanes, deplores,
More pleased, my foot the hidden margin roves Moves there a cloud o'er mid-day's flaming eye? Of Como, bosomed deep in chestnut groves. Upward he looks —"and calls it luxury;"
No meadows thrown between, the giddy steeps Kind Nature's charities his steps attend;
Tower, bare or sylvan, from the narrow deeps. In every babbling brook he finds a friend;
-To towns, whose shades of no rude sound complain. While chastening thoughts of sweetest use, bestowed To ringing team unknown and grating wain, By Wisdom, moralize his pensive road.
To flat-roofed towns, that touch the water's bound, Host of his welcome inn, the noon-tide bower, Or lurk in woody sunless glens profound, To his spare meal he calls the passing poor ;
Or, from the bending rocks, obtrusive cling, He views the Sun uplift his golden fire,
And o'er the whitened wave their shadows fling, Or sink, with heart alive like Memnon's lyre ;* The pathway leads, as round the steeps it twines, Blesses the Moon that comes with kindly ray,
And Silence loves its purple roof of vines; To light him shaken by his rugged way;
The viewless lingerer hence, at evening, sees With bashful fear no cottage children steal
From rock-hewn steps the sai, between the trees; From him, a brother at the cottage meal;
Or marks, 'mid opening cliffs, fair dark-eyed maids His humble looks no shy restraint impart,
Tend the small harvest of their garden glades, Around him plays at will the virgin heart.
Or stops the solemn mountain-shades to view While unsuspended wheels the village dance,
Stretch, o'er the pictured mirror, broad and blue, The maidens eye him with enquiring glance,
Tracking the yellow sun from steep to steep, Much wondering what sad stroke of crazing Care
As up the opposing hills with tortoise foot they creep. Or desperate Love could lead a Wanderer there.
Here, half a village shines, in gold arrayed,
Bright as the moon; half hides itseif in shade : Me, lured by hope its sorrows to remove,
While, from amid the darkened roofs, the spire, A heart that could not much itself approve
Restlessly flashing, seems to mount like fire: O'er Gallia's wastes of corn dejected led,
There, all unshaded, blazing forests throw Her road elms rustling high above my head,
Rich golden verdure on the waves below. Or through her truant pathways' native charis,
Slow glides the sail along the illumined shore, By secret villages and lonely farms,
And steals into the shade the lazy car; To where the Alps ascending white in air,
Soft bosoms breathe around contagious sighs, Toy with the sun, and glitter from afar.
And amorous music on the water dies.
Even now, emerging from the forest's gloom,
How blessed, delicious scene! the eye that greets I heave a sigh at hoary Chartreuse' doom.
Thy open beauties, or thy lone retreats; Where now is fled that Power whose frown severe
The unwearied sweep of wood thy cliff that scales; Tamed “sober Reason” till she crouched in fear? The never-ending waters of thy vales; The cloister startles at the gleam of arms,
The cots, those dim religious groves embower,
Or, under rocks that from the water tower,
+ Alloding to crosses seen on the tops of the spiry rocks of And start the astonished shades at female eyes.
Chartreuse, which have every appearance of being inacces
sible. * The lyre of Memnon is reported to have emitted melan
Names of River at the Chartreuse. choly or cheerful tones, as it was touched by the sun's evening or morning rays.
Name of one
is of the Chartreuse
Whose flaccid sails in forms fantastic droop,
The Grison gipsy here her tent hath placed,
O'er life's long deserts with its charge of woe,
Where beasts and men together o'er the plain
She, solitary, through the desert drear
Spontaneous wanders, hand in hand with Fear.
A giant moan along the forest swells
Protracted, and the twilight storm foretells,
Tumbles, – the wildering Thunder slips abroad; Farewell those forms that in thy noon-tide shade
On the high summits Darkness comes and goes, Rest near their little plots of wheaten glade;
Hiding their fiery clouds, their rocks, and snows; Those charms that bind the soul in powerless trance,
The torrent, traversed by the lustre broad, Lip-dewing song, and ringlet-tossing dance.
Starts, like a horse beside the flashing road; Where sparkling eyes and breaking smiles illume In the roofed bridge,f at that terrific hour, The sylvan cabin's lute-enlivened gloom.
She seeks a shelter from the battering shower. -Alas! the very murmur of the streams
– Fierce comes the river down; the crashing wood Breathes o'er the failing soul voluptuous dreams,
Gives way, and half its pines torment the flood;
And the bridge vibrates, tottering to its full.
- Heavy, and dull, and cloudy is the night Yet arts are thine that soothe the unquiet heart,
No star supplies the comfort of its light, And smiles to Solitude and Want impart.
A single taper in the vale profound
Shifts, while the Alps dilated glimmer round; The far-uff peasant's day-deserted home;
And, opposite, the waning Moon hangs still And once I pierced the mazes of a wood,
And red, above her melancholy hill. Where, far from public haunt, a cabin stood ;
By the deep quiet gloom appalled, she sighs, There by the door a hoary-headed Sire
Stoops her sick head, and shuts her weary eyes. Touched with his withered hand an ancient lyre;
She hears, upon the mountain forest's brow, Beneath an old gray oak, as violets lie,
The death-dog, howling loud and long below;
On viewless fingers counts the valley-clock,
Followed by drowsy crow of midnight cock.
And, far beneath, Banditti voices talk;
Behind her hill, the Moon, all crimson, rides,
I loved by silent cottage-doors to roam,
Stretched at his feet with steadfast, upward eye,
-A Hermit with his family around !
Embowered in walnut slopes and citron isles;
het onder med dim towers and woods, her* waters gleam; Ascending, nearer howls the famished wolf
While through the stillness scatters wild dismay
From the bright wave, in solemn gloom, retire
Now, passing Urseren's open vale serene,
+ Most of the bridges among the Alps are of wood, and co. vered; these bridges have a heavy appearance, and rather injure the effect of the scenery in some places.
“Red came the river down, and loud and oft
Alpe ly the Simplon pass.
Plunge with the Russ embrowned by Terror's breath; | A garden-plot the desert air perfumes,
Thridding the painful crag, surmounts the cliff Black drizzling crags, that, beaten by the din,
- Before those hermit doors, that never know Vibrate, as if a voice complained within;
The face of traveller passing to and fro, Bare steeps, where Desolation stalks, afraid,
No peasant leans upon his pole, to tell Unsteadfast, by a blasted yew upstayed ;
For whom at morning tolled the funeral bell; By cells* whose image, trembling as he prays, Their watch-dog ne'er his angry bark foregoes, Awe-struck, the kneeling peasant scarce surveys; Touched by the beggar's moan of human woes; Loose-hanging rocks the Day's blessed eye that hide, The grassy seat beneath their casement shade And crossest reared to Death on every side,
The pilgrim's wistful eye hath never stayed. Which with cold kiss Devotion planted near,
- There, did the iron Genius not disdain And, bending, watered with the human tear,
The gentle Power that haunts the myrtle plain, That faded “silent" from her upward eye,
There, might the love-sick maiden sit, and chide Unmoved with each rude form of Danger nigh, The insuperable rocks and severing tide; Fixed on the anchor left by Him who saves
There, watch at eve her lover's sun-gilt sai] Alike in whelming snows and roaring waves. Approaching, and upbraid the tardy gale;
There, list at midnight till is heard no more,
Below, the echo of his parting oar.
'Mid stormy vapours ever driving by, Moveless o'erhang the deep secluded vale,
Where ospreys, cormorants, and herons cry, The beams of evening, slipping soft between,
Hovering o'er rugged wastes too bleak to rear Gently illuminate a sober scene;
That common growth of earth, the foodful ear; Winding its dark-green wood and emerald glade,
Where the green apple shrivels on the spray, The still vale lengthens underneath the shade;
And pines the unripened pear in summer's kindliest ra; While in soft gloom the scattering bowers recede, Even here Content has fixed her smiling reign Green dewy lights adorn the freshened mead,
With Independence, child of high Disdain. On the low brown wood-hutss delighted sleep
Exulting 'mid the winter of the skies, Along the brightened gloom reposing deep:
Shy as the jealous chamois, Freedom flies, While pastoral pipes and streams the landscape lull,
And often grasps her sword, and often eyes; And bells of passing mules that tinkle dull,
Her crest a bough of Winter's bleakest pine, In solemn shapes before the admiring eye
Strange“weeds” and Alpine plants her helm entwic: Dilated hang, the misty pines on high,
And, wildly pausing, oft she hangs aghast, Huge convent domes with pinnacles and towers,
While thrills the “Spartan fife" between the blast. And antique castles seen through drizzling showers.
From such romantic dreams, my soul, awake! ”T is storm; and, hid in mist from hour to hour, Lo! Fear looks silent down on Uri's lake,
All day the floods a deepening murmur pour; Where, by the unpathwayed margin, still and dread, The sky is veiled, and every cheerful sight: Was never heard the plodding peasant's tread. Dark is the region as with coming night ; Tower like a wall the naked rocks, or reach
But what a sudden burst of overpowering light! Far o'er the secret water dark with beech;
Triumphant on the bosom of the storm, More high, to where creation seems to end,
Glances the fire-clad eagle's wheeling form ; Shade above shade, the aërial pines ascend,
Eastward, in long perspective glittering, shine Yet with his infants Man undaunted creeps
The wood-crowned cliffs that o'er the lake recline: And hangs his small wood-cabin on the steeps Wide o'er the Alps a hundred streams unfold, Where'er below amid the savage scene
At once to pillars turned that flame with gold: Peeps out a little speck of smiling green,
Behind his sail the peasant strives to shun
The west, that burns like one dilated sun, • The Catholic religion prevails here: these cells are, as is where in a mighty crucible expire well known, very common in the Catholic countries, planted, The mountains, glowing hot, like coals of fire. like the Roman tombs, along the road side.
+ Crosses commemorative of the deaths of travellers by the fall of snow and other accidents are very common along this
Buit, lo! the Boatman, overawed, before dreadful road.
The pictured fane of Tell suspends his oar; i The houses in the more retired Swiss valleys are all built Confused the Marathonian tale appears, of wood
While burn in his full eyes the glorious tears
And who that walks where men of ancient days Or rather stay to taste the mild delights
Is there who'mid these awful wilds has seen
The native Genii walk the mountain green?
Or heard, while other worlds their charms reveal,
Soft music from the aerial summit steal ?
Rich steam of sweetest perfume comes and goes.
Here, where no trace of man the spot profanes, Where breathed the gale that caught Wolfe's hap- Nought but the herds that, pasturing upward, creepi, piest sigh,
Hung dim discovered from the dangerous steep,
Or summer hamlet, flat and bare, on high
How still! no irreligious sound or sight
Rouses the soul from her severe delight.
An idle voice the sabbath region fills
Of Deep that calls to Deep across the hills, And watch, from pike to pike*, amid the sky,
Broke only by the melancholy sound
Of Drowsy bells, for ever tinkling round;
Beneath the cliffs, and pine-woods' steady sughl;
The solitary heifer's deepened low;
Save when, a stranger seen below, the boy
When warm from myrtle bays and tranquil seas,
And emerald isles to spot the heights appear,
When shouts and lowing herds the valley fill,
And louder torrents stun the noon-tide hill,
When fragrant scents beneath the enchanted tread
Spring up, his choicest wealth around him spread, rays: To him the day-star glitters small and bright,
The pastoral Swiss begins the cliffs to scale, Sborn of its beams, insufferably white,
To silence leaving the deserted vale; And he can look beyond the sun, and view
Mounts, where the verdure leads, from stage to stage, Those fast-receding depths of sable blue,
And pastures on, as in the Patriarchs' age:
see him, up the midway cliff he creeps
Thence down the steep a pile of grass he throws, prey.
The fodder of his herds in winter snows. Hence shall we turn where, heard with fear afar,
Far different life to what tradition hoar Thunders throngh echoing pines the headlong Aar?
Transmits of days more blest in times of yore; * Mke 3 a word very commonly used in the north of Eng
1 The people of this Canton are supposed to be of a more
Flying till vision can no more pursue !
this, if true, may proceed from their living more secluded.
$ This picture is from the midille region of the Alps.
|| Sugh, a Scotch word expressive of the sound of the wind through the trees.