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THE SWITZER'S WIFE.
Werner Stauffacher, one of the three confederates of the field of Grutli, had been alarmed by the envy with which the Austrian Bailiff, Landenberg, had noticed the appearance of wealth and comfort which distinguished his dwelling. It was not, however, until roused by the entreaties of his wife, a woman who seems to have been of an heroic spirit, that he was induced to deliberate with his friends upon the measures by which Switzerland was finally delivered.
THE SWITZER'S WIFE.
Nor look nor tone revealeth aught
M. J. J.
Wer solch ein herz an seinen Busen druckt,
It was the time when children bound to meet
Their father's homeward step from field or hill, And when the herd's returning bells are sweet
In the Swiss valleys, and the lakes grow still, And the last note of that wild horn swells by, Which haunts the exile's heart with melody.
And lovely smild full many an Alpine home,
Touch'd with the crimson of the dying hour, Which lit its low roof by the torrent's foam,
And pierced its lattice thro’ the vine-hung bower ; But one, the loveliest o'er the land that rose,
Then first look'd mournful in its green repose,
For Werner sat beneath the linden-tree,
That sent its lulling whispers through his door, Ev'n as man sits whose heart alone would be
With some deep care, and thus can find no more 'Th' accustom'd joy in all which evening brings, Gathering a household with her quiet wings.
His wife stood hush'd before him,--sad, yet mild
In her beseeching mien ;-he mark'd it not. The silvery laughter of his bright-hair’d child
Rang from the greensward round the shelter'd spot, But seem'd unheard ; until at last the boy Rais'd from his heap'd up fowers a glance of joy,
And met his father's face: but then a change
Pass'd swiftly o'er the brow of infant glee,
Brought him from play to stand beside the knee
Then the proud bosom of the strong man shook ;
But tenderly his babe's fair mother laid Her hand on his, and with a pleading look,
Thro' tears half quivering, o'er him bent, and said, “What grief, dear friend, hath made thy heart its prey, That thou shouldst turn thee from our love away?
“ It is too sad to see thee thus, my friend !
Mark'st thou the wonder on thy boy's fair brow, Missing the smile from thine ? Oh! cheer thee! bend
To his soft arms, unseal thy thoughts e’en now!