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Felicia Dorothea Hemans - Swiss Song, On The Anniversary Of An Ancient Battle
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Look on the white Alps round!
        If yet they gird a land
    Where freedom`s voice and step are found,
        Forget ye not the band,
The faithful band, our sires, who fell
Here, in the narrow battle-dell!

    If yet, the wilds among,
        Our silent hearts may burn,
    When the deep mountain-horn hath rung,
        And home our steps may turn,
—Home!—home!—if still that name be dear,
Praise to the men who perish`d here!

    Look on the white Alps round!
        Up to their shining snows
    That day the stormy rolling sound,
        The sound of battle rose!
Their caves prolong`d the trumpet`s blast,
Their dark pines trembled as it pass`d!

    They saw the princely crest,
        They saw the knightly spear,
    The banner and the mail-clad breast
        Borne down, and trampled here!
They saw—and glorying there they stand,
Eternal records to the land!

    Praise to the mountain-born,
        The brethren of the glen!
    By them no steel-array was worn,
        They stood as peasant-men!
They left the vineyard and the field
To break an empire`s lance and shield!

    Look on the white Alps round!
        If yet, along their steeps,
    Our children`s fearless feet may bound,
        Free as the chamois leaps:
Teach them in song to bless the band
Amidst whose mossy graves we stand!

    If, by the wood-fire`s blaze,
        When winter-stars gleam cold,
    The glorious tales of elder days
        May proudly yet be told,
Forget not then the shepherd-race,
Who made the hearth a holy place!

    Look on the white Alps round!
        If yet the sabbath bell
    Comes o`er them with a gladdening sound,
        Think on the battle-dell!
For blood first bath`d its flowery sod,
That chainless hearts might worship God!
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