Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 17 1826/The Vaudois Valleys

by Felicia Hemans

The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 17, Pages 60-61

THE VAUDOIS VALLEYS.

Yes! thou hast met the sun's last smile
    From the haunted hills of Rome;
By many a bright Egean isle
    Thou hast seen the billows foam:

From the silence of the Pyramid
    Thou hast watch'd the solemn flow
Of the Nile, that with his mantle hid
    The ancient realm below:

Thy heart hath burn'd as shepherds sang
    Some wild and warlike strain,
Where the Moorish horn once proudly rang
    Through the pealing hills of Spain:

And o'er the lonely Grecian streams
    Thou hast heard the laurels moan,
With a sound yet murmuring in thy dreams
    Of the glory that is gone.

But go thou to the hamlet-vales
    Of the Alpine mountains old,
If thou wouldst hear immortal tales,
    By the wind's deep whispers told!

Go, if thou lov'st the soil to tread
    Where man hath bravely striven,
And life like incense hath been shed,
    An offering unto Heaven!

For o'er the snows and round the pines
    Hath swept a noble flood,
The nurture of the peasant's vines
    Hath been the martyr's blood.

A spirit, stronger than the sword,
    And loftier than Despair,
Through all th' heroic region pour'd,
    Breathes in the generous air.

A memory clings to every steep
    Of long-enduring Faith,
And the sounding streams glad record keep
    Of courage unto death!

Ask of the peasant where his sires
    For Truth and Freedom bled,
Ask, where were lit the torturing fires
    Where lay the holy dead?

And he will tell thee all around,
    On fount, and turf, and stone,
Far as the chamois' foot can bound,
    Their ashes have been sown.

Go, when the sabbath-bell is heard
    Up through the wilds to float,
When the dark old woods and caves are stirr'd
    To gladness by the note;

When forth, along their thousand rills,
    The mountain people come,
Join thou their worship on those hills
    Of glorious Martyrdom!*^[1]

And while the song of praise ascends,
    And while the torrent's voice
Like the swell of many an organ blends,
    Then let thy soul rejoice!

Rejoice, that human hearts, through scorn,
    Through grief, through death, made strong,
Before the rocks and heavens have borne
    Witness of God so long.F. H.

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1. * See the description of a sabbath upon the Vaudois mountains, in Gilly's Researches in Piedmont.