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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391656" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Switzer's Wife</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nor look nor tone revealeth aught<br>Save woman's quietness of thought;<br>And yet around her is a light<br>Of inward majesty and might.<br>~ M.J.J. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Wer solch ein herz an seinen Busen dr?Der kann fur herd und hof mit freuden fechten.<br>~ Willholm Tell</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>It was the time when children bound to meet<br>Their father's homeward step from field or hill,<br>And when the herd's returning bells are sweet<br>In the Swiss valleys, and the lakes grow still,<br>And the last note of that wild horn swells by,<br>Which haunts the exile's heart with melody. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And lovely smil'd full many an Alpine home,<br>Touch'd with the crimson of the dying hour,<br>Which lit its low roof by the torrent's foam,<br>And pierced its lattice thro' the vine-hung bower;<br>But one, the loveliest o'er the land that rose,<br>Then first look'd mournful in its green repose. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For Werner sat beneath the linden-tree,<br>That sent its lulling whispers through his door,<br>Ev'n as man sits, whose heart alone would be<br>With some deep care, and thus can find no more<br>Th' accustom'd joy in all which Evening brings,<br>Gathering a household with her quiet wings. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">His wife stood hush'd before him,?sad, yet mild<br>In her beseeching mien;?he mark'd it not.<br>The silvery laughter of his bright-hair'd child<br>Rang from the greensward round the shelter'd spot,<br>But seem'd unheard; until at last the boy<br>Rais'd from his heap'd-up flowers a glance of joy, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And met his father's face; but then a change<br>Pass'd swiftly o'er the brow of infant glee,<br>And a quick sense of something dimly strange<br>Brought him from play to stand beside the knee<br>So often climb'd, and lift his loving eyes<br>That shone through clouds of sorrowful surprise. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then the proud bosom of the strong man shook;<br>But tenderly his babe's fair mother laid<br>Her hand on his, and with a pleading look,<br>Thro' tears half quivering, o'er him bent, and said,<br>'What grief, dear friend, hath made thy heart its prey,<br>That thou shouldst turn thee from our love away? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'It is too sad to see thee thus, my friend!<br>Mark'st thou the wonder on thy boy's fair brow,<br>Missing the smile from thine? Oh! cheer thee! bend<br>To his soft arms, unseal thy thoughts e'en now!<br>Thou dost not kindly to withhold the share<br>Of tried affection in thy secret care.' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He looked up into that sweet earnest face,<br>But sternly, mournfully: not yet the band<br>Was loosen'd from his soul; its inmost place<br>Not yet unveil'd by love's o'ermastering hand.<br>'Speak low!' he cried, and pointed where on high<br>The white Alps glitter'd thro' the solemn sky: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'We must speak low amidst our ancient hills<br>And their free torrents; for the days are come<br>When tyranny lies couch'd by forest-rills,<br>And meets the shepherd in his mountain-home.<br>Go, pour the wine of our own grapes in fear,<br>Keep silence by the hearth! its foes are near. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'The envy of th' oppressor's eye hath been<br>Upon my heritage. I sit to-night<br>Under my household tree, if not serene,<br>Yet with the faces best-beloved in sight:<br>To-morrow eve may find me chain'd, and thee?<br>How can I bear the boy's young smiles to see?' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The bright blood left that youthful mother's cheek;<br>Back on the linden-stem she lean'd her form,<br>And her lip trembled, as it strove to speak,<br>Like a frail harp-string, shaken by the storm.<br>'Twas but a moment, and the faintness pass'd,<br>And the free Alpine spirit woke at last. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And she, that ever thro' her home had mov'd<br>With the meek thoughtfulness and quiet smile<br>Of woman, calmly loving and belov'd,<br>And timid in her happiness the while,<br>Stood brightly forth, and steadfastly, that hour,<br>Her clear glance kindling into sudden power. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ay, pale she stood, but with an eye of light,<br>And took her fair child to her holy breast,<br>And lifted her soft voice, that gathered might<br>As it found language:?'Are we thus oppress'd?<br>Then must we rise upon our mountain-sod,<br>And man must arm, and woman call on God! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I know what thou wouldst do: And be it done!<br>Thy soul is darken'd with its fears for me.<br>Trust me to Heaven, my husband!?this, thy son,<br>The babe whom I have born thee, must be free!<br>And the sweet memory of our pleasant hearth<br>May well give strength?if aught be strong on earth. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Thou hast been brooding o'er the silent dread<br>Of my desponding tears; now, lift once more,<br>My hunter of the hills! thy stately head,<br>And let thine eagle glance my joy restore!<br>I can bear all, but seeing thee subdued,?<br>Take to thee back thine own undaunted mood. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Go forth beside the waters, and along<br>The chamois paths, and thro' the forests go;<br>And tell, in burning words, thy tale of wrong<br>To the brave hearts that midst the hamlets glow.<br>God shall be with thee, my belov'd!?Away!<br>Bless but thy child, and leave me:?I can pray!' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He sprang up, like a warrior-youth awaking<br>To clarion-sounds upon the ringing air;<br>He caught her to his breast, while proud tears breaking<br>From his dark eyes, fell o'er her braided hair;?<br>And 'Worthy art thou,' was his joyous cry,<br>'That man for thee should gird himself to die. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'My bride, my wife, the mother of my child!<br>Now shall thy name be armour to my heart:<br>And this our land, by chains no more defiled,<br>Be taught of thee to choose the better part!<br>I go?thy spirit on my words shall dwell,<br>Thy gentle voice shall stir the Alps:?Farewell!' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And thus they parted, by the quiet lake,<br>In the clear starlight: he, the strength to rouse<br>Of the free hills; she, thoughtful for his sake,<br>To rock her child beneath the whispering boughs,<br>Singing its blue half-curtain'd eyes to sleep,<br>With a low hymn, amidst the stillness deep.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Felicia+Dorothea+Hemans">Felicia Dorothea Hemans</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391656" data-title="The Switzer's Wife de Felicia Dorothea Hemans" data-description="Nor look nor tone revealeth aught
Save woman's quietness of thought;
And yet around her is a light
Of inward majesty and might.
~ M.J.J. 


Wer solch ein herz an seinen Busen dr?Der kann fur herd und hof mit freuden fechten.
~ Willholm Tell


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