Vengeance, vengeance will not stay!
It shall burst on Gallia's head,
Sudden as the judgment day
To the unexpecting dead.

From the revolution's flood,
Shall a fiery dragon start;
He shall drink his mother's blood,
He shall eat his father's heart:

Nurst by anarchy and crime,
He-but distance mocks my sight:
O, thou great avenger, TIME!
Bring thy strangest birth to light.”

S. "Prophet! thou hast spoken well,
And I deem thy words divine;
Now the mournful sequel tell
Of thy country's woes and thine."

W. "Though the moon's bewildered bark,

By the midnight tempest tost,

In a sea of vapours dark,

In a gulf of clouds was lost :

Yet my journey I pursued,
Climbing many a weary steep,
Whence the closing scene I viewed
With an eye that could not weep.

Stantz-a melancholy pyre!
And her hamlets blazed behind,
With ten thousand tongues of fire,
Writhing, raging in the wind. a

Flaming piles, where'er I turned,
Cast a grim and dreadful light;
Like funeral lamps they burned
In the sepulchre of night :

While the red illumined flood,
With a hoarse and hollow roar,
Seemed a lake of living blood,
Wildly weltering on the shore.

'Midst the mountains, far away,
Soon I spied the sacred spot,
Whence a slow consuming ray
Glimmered from my native cot.

At the sight my brain was fired,
And afresh my heart's wounds bled:
Still I gazed :-the spark expired-
Nature seemed extinct !-I fled.

Fled, and ere the noon of day,
Reached the lonely Gothard's nest,
Where my wife, my children lay:
-Husband!-Father!-think the rest."

END OF THE FIFTH PART.

THE

WANDERER

OF

SWITZERLAND.

PART VI.

The Wanderer informs the Shepherd, that, after the example of many of his countrymen, flying from the tyranny of France, it is his intention to settle in some remote province of America.

SHEPHERD.

"WANDERER! whither wouldst thou roam ?

To what region far away,

Bend thy steps to find a home,
In the twilight of thy day?"

W. "In the twilight of my day,
I am hastening to the West;
There my weary limbs to lay,
Where the sun retires to rest.

Far beyond the Atlantic floods,
Stretched beneath the evening sky,

Realms of mountains, dark with woods,
In Columbia's bosom lie.

There, in glens and caverns rude,

Silent, since the world began,
Dwells the virgin Solitude,

Unbetrayed by faithless man :

Where a tyrant never trod,
Where a slave was never known,
But where nature worships GOD
In the wilderness alone :

Thither, thither would I roam;
There my children may be free;
I for them will find a home,
They shall find a grave for me.

Though my father's bones afar,
In their native land repose,
Yet, beneath the twilight star,
Soft on mine the turf shall close.

Though the mould that wraps my clay,

When this storm of life is o'er,

Never-never-never lay

On a human breast before :

Yet, in sweet communion there,
When she follows to the dead,
Shall my bosom's partner share
Her poor husband's lowly bed.

Albert's babes shall deck our tomb, And my daughter's duteous tears Bid the flowery hillock bloom, Through the winter waste of years."

S."Time! thy chariot wheels delay; Death! unstring thy bended bow; Sun forget to bring the day,

Which shall lay the Wanderer low!"

W. “Though our Parent perished here,
Like the Phoenix on her nest,

Lo! new fledged her wings appear,
Hovering in the golden West.

Thither shall her sons repair,
And, beyond the roaring main,
Find their native country there,
Find their Switzerland again.

Mountains! can ye chain the will? Ocean! canst thou quench the heart? No!-I feel my Country still,

LIBERTY! where'er thou art.