d of sorrow when I passed,
Sweet country, through your rocky valleys last;
For one whom I had loved, whom I had pressed
With honest, ardent passion to my breast,
Was to another vowed: I heard the tale,
And to the earth sank heartless, faint, and pale.
Till that sad hour when every hope had flown,
I thought she lived for me, and me alone;
Yet did I not, though pangs my heart must rend,
Prove to thy weakness a sustaining friend? 10
Did I not bid thee, never, never more
Or think of me or mine? As firm I swore
To cast away the dream, and bury deep,
As in oblivion of the dead man's sleep,
All that once soothed, and from the soul to tear
Each longing wish that youth had cherished there.
But when 'twas midnight, to the woods I hied,
Despairing, and with frantic anguish cried:
Oh, had relentless death with instant dart
Smitten and snatched thee from my bleeding heart; 20
Through life had niggard fortune bid us pine,
And withered with despair thy hopes and mine;
Yes, yes, I could have borne it; but to see
The accusing tear, and know it falls for me;
Oh cease the thought--a long and last farewell--
We must forget--nor shall my soul rebel!
Then to my country's cliffs I bade adieu,
And what my sad heart felt God only knew.
Helvetia, thy rude scenes, a drooping guest,
I sought, and sorrowing sought a spot of rest. 30
Through many a mountain pass and shaggy vale 31
I roamed an exile, passion-crazed and pale.
I saw your clouded heights sublime impend,
I heard your foaming cataracts descend;
And oft the rugged scene my heart endued
With a strange, sad, distempered fortitude;
Oft on the lake's green marge I lay reclined,
Murmuring my moody fancies to the wind;
But when some hanging hamlet I surveyed,
A wood-cot peeping in the sheltered glade, 40
A tear, perforce, would steal; and, as my eye
Fondly reverted to the days gone by,
How blest, I cried, remote from every care,
To rest with her we loved, forgotten there!
Then soft, methought, from the sequestered grove,
I heard the song of happiness and love:

Come to these scenes of peace,
Where, to rivers murmuring,
The sweet birds all the summer sing,
Where cares, and toil, and sadness cease!