orded and sang the lovely
traditions of their pastoral life.

"Gruyere, sweet country, fresh and verdant Gruyere
Did thy children imagine how happy they were?
Did thy shepherds know they lived an idyll?
Had they read Theocrite, had they heard of Virgil?
No, no! as in gardens the lilac and rose
Grow in innocent beauty, their days drew to a
close."

So in a fond ecstasy of recollection, sings a Romand poet, and thus in
the famous lines of Uhland is related the Coraule of Count Antoine.

_The Count of Gruyere_

Before his high manor, the Count of Gruyere,
One morning in Maytime looked over the land.
Rocky peaks, rose and gold, with the dawning were fair,
In the valleys night still held command.

"Oh! Mountains! you call to your pastures so green,
Where the shepherds and maids wander free,
And while often, unmoved, your smiles I have seen,
Ah! to-day 'tis with you I would be."

Then afloat on the breeze, there came to his ear,
Sweet pipes faintly blowing--still distant the sounds----
As across the deep valley, each with his dear,
Came the shepherds, dancing their rounds.

And now on the green sward they danced and they sang,
In their holiday gowns, a pretty parterre,
With oft sounding echoes the castle walls rang,
To the joy of the Count of Gruyere.

Then slim as a lily, a beauteous maid,
Took the Count by the hand to join the gay throng.
"And now you're our captive, sweet master," she said,
"And our leader in dancing and song."

Then, the Count at the head, away they all went,
A-singing and dancing, through forest and dell.
O'er valleys and hillsides, with force all unspent,
Till the sun set and starry night fell.

The first day fled fast, and the second dawned fair,
The third was declining, when over the hills
Quick lightning flashed whitely--the Count was not there!
"Has he vanished?" they asked of the rills.

The black storm clouds have burst, the streams are like blood
By the red lightning's glare, and dark night is rent,
Oh, look! where our lost one fights hard with the flood,
Until a branch saves him, pale and spent.

"The mountains which drew me with smiles to their heights,
With thunders have kept me, their lover, at bay.
Their streams have engulfed me, not these the delights
I dreamed of, dancing the hours away.

"Far