ON the princely towers of Berne Fell the Gallic thunder-stroke; To the lake of poor Lucerne, All submitted to the yoke. Reding then his standard raised, Drew his sword on Brunnen's plain; But in vain his banner blazed, Reding drew his sword in vain. Where our conquering fathers died, Where their awful bones repose, Thrice the battle's fate he tried, Thrice o'erthrew his country's foes. Happy then were those who fell Fighting on their father's graves! Wretched those who lived to tell Treason made the victors slaves! Thus my country's life retired, Slowly driven from part to part; Underwalden last expired, Underwalden was the heart. In the valley of their birth, Where our guardian mountains stand; In the eye of heaven and earth, Met the warriors of our land. Like their sires in olden time, Armed they met in stern debate; While in every breast sublime Glowed the spirit of the state. Gallia's menace fired their blood: With one heart and voice they rose; Hand in hand the heroes stood, And defied their faithless foes. Then to heaven, in calm despair, As they turned the tearless eye, By their country's wrongs they sware With their country's rights to die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GOOD-BYE DOROTHY GAYLE: THE ROAD TO BUFFALO by KAREN SWENSON FATIGUE; EPIGRAM by HILAIRE BELLOC SIMON LEGREE: NEGRO SERMON; MEMORIAL TO BOOKER T. WASHINGTON by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 86. AL-JAMI'H by EDWIN ARNOLD IN THE WHITE LAND by KONSTANTIN DMITRIYEVICH BALMONT AN EVENING CLOUD by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD THE ROAD OF SLEEP by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH |