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For we were used to hunter's fare, I was the eldest of the three,
And for the like had little care : And to uphold and cheer the rest
The milk drawn from the mountain goat I ought to domand did my best
Was changed for water from the moat, And each did well in his degree.
Our bread was such as captive's tears The youngest, whom my father loved,
Hare moisten'd many a thousand years Because our mother's brow was given
Since man first pent his fellow men To him with eyes as blue as heaven,
Like brutes within an iron den : For him my soul was sorely moved ;
But what were these to us or him? And truly might it be distrest
These wasted not his heart or limb, To see such bird in such a nest;
My brother's soul was of that mould For he was beautiful as day
Which in a palace had grown cold, (When day was beautiful to me
Had his free breathing been denied As to young eagles, being free)
The range of the steep mountain's side ; A polar day, which will not see
But why delay the truth he died. A sunset till its summer's gone,
I saw, and could not hold his head, Its sleepless summer of long light,
Nor reach his dying hand-nor dead, The snow-clad offspring of the sun;
Though hard I strove, but strove in vain, And thus he was as pure and bright,
To rend and gnash my bonds in twain. And in his natural spirit gay,
He died--and they unlock'd his chain, With tears for nought but others' ills,
And scoop'd for him a shallow grave And then they flow'd like mountain rills,
Even from the cold earth of our cave. Unless he could assuage the wo
I begg'd them, as a boon, to lay Which he abhorr'd to view below,
His corse in dust whereon the day
Might shine--it was a foolish thought, V.
But then within my brain it wrought, The other was as pure of mind,
That even in death his freeborn breast But form'd to combat with his kind;
In such a dungeon could not rest.
I might have spared my idle prayer Strong in his frame, and of a mood Which 'gainst the world in war had stood,
They coldly laugh'd-and laid him there :
The flat and turfless earth above And perish'd in the foremost rank
The With joy :--but not in chains to pine:
ing we so much did love; His spirit wither'd with their clank,
His empty chain above it leant,
Such murder's fitting monument!
But he, the favorite and the flower,
Most cherish'd since his natal hour,
His mother's image in fair face,
The infant love of all his race, And fetter'd feet the worst of ills.
His martyr'd father's dearest thought,
My latest care, for whom I sought
To hoard my life, that his might be
Less wretched now, and one day free ; A thousand feet in depth below
He, too, who yet had held untired Its massy waters meet and flow;
A spirit natural and inspiredThus much the fathom-line was sent
He, too, was struck, and day by day From Chillon's snow-white battlement, 3
Was wither'd on the stalk away. Which round about the wave enthralls;
Oh God! it is a fearful thing A double dungeon wall and wave
To see the human soul take wing Have made and like a living grave.
In any shape, in any mood :Below the surface of the lake
I've seen it rushing forth in blood, The dark vault lies wherein we lay,
I've seen it on the breaking ocean We heard it ripple night and day;
Strive with a swoln convulsive motion, Sounding o'er our heads it knock'd ;
I've seen the sick and ghastly bed And I have felt the winter's spray
Of Sin delirious with its dread: Wash through the bars when winds were high, But these were borrors—this was wo And wanton in the happy sky;
Unmix'd with such—but sure and slow; And then the very rock hath rock'd,
He faded, and so calm and meek, And I have felt it shake, unshock'd,
So softly worn, so sweetly weak, Because I could have smiled to see
So tearless, yet so tender-kind, The death that would have set me free.
And grieved for those he left behind :
. With all the while a cheek whose bloom VII.
Was as a mockery of the tomb, I said my nearer brother pined,
Whose tints as gently sunk away I said his mighty heart declined,
As a departing rainbow's rayHe loathed and put away his food;
An eye of most transparent light, It was not that 'twas coarse and rude,
That almost ma the dungeon bright,
And not a word of murmur-not
A little hope my own to raise,
The accursed breath of dungeon-dew:
I could not die,
I had no earthly hope-but faith,
IX. What next befel me then and there
I know not well-I never knew— First came the loss of light, and air,
And then of darkness too:
I had no thought, no feeling-none-
But vacancy absorbing space,
There were no stars-no earth-no time-
But silence, and a stirless breath
A light broke in upon my brain,—
It ceased, and then it came again,
The sweetest song ear ever heard, And mine was thankful till my eyes Ran over with the glad surprise, And they that moment could not see I was the mate of misery; But then by dull degrees came back My senses to their wonted track;
A kind of change came in my fate,
I made a footing in the wall,
It was not therefrom to escape, For I had buried one and all,
Who loved me in a human shape;
And the whole earth would henceforth be
A wider prison unto me;
No child-no sire-no kin had I, No partner in my misery;
I thought of this, and I was glad,
The darkness of my dim abode For thought of them had made me mad;
Fell on me as a heavy load ; But I was curious to ascend
It was as is a new-dug grave, To my barr'd windows, and to bend
Closing o'er one we sought to save, Once more, upon the mountains high,
And yet my glance, too much opprest,
Had almost need of such a rest.
I kept no count-I took no note, On high-their wide long lake below,
I had no hope my eyes to raise, And the blue Rhone in fullest flow;
And clear them of their dreary mote; I heard the torrents leap and gush
At last men came to set me free, O’er channell'd rock and broken bush;
I ask'd not why, and reck'd not where, I saw the white-wall’d distant town,
It was at length the same to me, And whiter sails go skimming down ;
Fetter'd or fetterless to be, And then there was a little isle,4
I learn'd to love despair.
And thus when they appear'd at last,
And all my bonds aside were cast,
These heavy walls to me had grown Scarce broader than my dungeon floor,
A hermitage-and all my own! But in it there were three tall trees,
And half I felt as they were come And o'er it blew the mountain breeze,
To tear me from a second home: And by it there were waters flowing,
With spiders I had friendship made, And on it there were young flowers growing And watch'd them in their sullen trade, Of gentle breath and hue.
Had seen the mice by moonlight play, The fish swam by the castle wall,
And why should I feel less than they? And they seem'd joyous each and all;
We were all inmates of one place, The eagle rode the rising blast,
And I, the monarch of each race, Methought he never flew so fast
Had power to kill-yet, strange to tell! As then to me he seem'd to fly,
In quiet we had learn’d to dwellAnd then new tears came in my eye,
My very chains and I grew friends, And I felt troubled-and would fain
So much a long communion tends I had not left my recent chain ;
To make us what we are :-even I And when I did descend again,
Regain'd my freedom with a sigh.
NOTES TO THE PRISONER OF CHILLON.
rera encore la plus vive reconnaissance dans le By Bonnivard !—may none those marks efface!
ceurs des Genevois qui aiment Genève. Bonnirard Page 183, line 13.
en fut toujours un des plus fermes appuis : pour as.
surer la liberté de notre République, il ne craignit François de Bonnivard, fils de Louis de Bonni- pas de perdre souvent la sienne ; il oublia son repos; vard, originaire de Seyssel et Seigneur de Lunes, il méprisa ses richesses ; il ne négligea rien pour naquit en 1496 ; il fit ses études à Turin: en 1510 affermir le bonheur d'une patrie qu'il honora de son Jean Aimé de Bonnivard, son oncle, lui résigna le choix : dès ce moment il la cherit comme le plus Prieuré de St. Victor, qui aboutissoit aux murs de zeleé, de ses citoyens ; il la servit avec l'intrépidité Genève, et qui formoit un benefice considérable. d'un héros, et il écrivit son Histoire avec la nätvete
Ce grand homme (Bonnivard mérite ce titre par d'un philosophe et la chaleur d'un patriote. la force de son âme, la droiture de son coeur, la no- Il dit dans le commencement de son histoire de blesse de ses intentions, la sagesse de ses conseils, Genève, que, des qu'il eut commencé de lire l'histoire le courage de ses démarches, l'étendue de ses con- des nations, il se sentit entrainé par son goût pour les naissances et la vivacité de son esprit,) ce grand Republiques, dont il épousa toujours les intérêts : homme, qui excitera l'admiration de tous ceux c'est ce goût pour la liberté que lui fit sans doute qu'une vertu héroique peut encore émouvoir, inspi- adopter Genève pour sa patrie.
Bonnivard, encore jeune, s'annonça hautement] Ludovico Sforza, and others.-The same is ascomme le défenseur de Genève contre le Duc de serted of Marie Antoinette's, the wife of Louis XVI. Savoye et l'Evêque. though not in quite so short a period. Grief is said to have the same effect: to such, and not to fear this change in hers was to be attributed.
En 1519, Bonnivard devient le martyr de sa patrie. Le Duc de Savoye étant entré dans Genève avec cino cent hommes, Bonnivard craint le ressentiment du Duc; il voulut se retirer à Fribourg pour en éviter les suites; mais il fut trahi par deux hommes qui l'accompagnoient, et conduit par ordre du From Chillon's snow-white battlement. Prince à Grolée où il resta prisonnier pendant deux Page 184, line 43. ans. Bonnivard étoit malheureux dans ses voyages: comme ses malheurs n'avoient point ralenti son zèle The Chateau de Chillon is situated between pour Genève, il étoit toujours un ennemi redoutable Clarens and Villeneuve, which last is at one expour ceux qui la menaçoient, et par conséquent il tremity of the Lake of Geneva. On its left are the devoit être exposé à leurs coups. Il fut rencontré entrances of the Rhone, and opposite are the heights en 1530 sur le Jura par des voleurs, qui le dépouil- of Meillerie and the range of Alps above Boveret lèrent, et qui le mirent encore entre les mains du and St. Gingo. Duc de Savoye: ce Prince le fit enfermer dans le Château de Chillon, où il resta sans être interrogé jusques en 1536; il fut alors delivré par les Bernois, qui s'emparèrent du Pays de Vaud.
Near it, on a hill behind, is a torrent; below it, washing its walls, the lake has been fathomed to the depth of eight hundred feet, (French measure;) within it are a range of dungeons, in which the early reformers, and subsequently prisoners of state,
Bonnivard, en sortant de sa captivité, eut le plaisir de trouver Genève libre et réformée; la République were confined. Across one of the vaults is a beam s'empressa de lui témoigner sa reconnaissance et de black with age, on which we were informed that le dédommager des maux qu'il avoit soufferts; elle the condemned were formerly executed. In the le recut Bourgeois de la ville au mois de Juin 1536; cells are seven pillars, or rather, eight, one being elle lui donna la maison habitee autrefois par le half merged in the wall; in some of these are rings Vicaire-Général, et elle lui assigna une pension de for the fetters and the fettered: in the pavement 200 écus d'or tant qu'il séjourneroit à Genève. Il the steps of Bonnivard have left their traces-he fut admis dans le Conseil de Deux-Cent en 1537. was confined here several years.
Bonnivard n'a pas fini d'etre utile: appres avoir It is by this castle that Rousseau has fixed the travaillé à rendre Genève libre, il réussit à la rendre catastrophe of his Heloise, in the rescue of one of tolerante. Bonnivard engagea le Conseil à accorder her children by Julie from the water; the shock of aux Ecclésiastiques et aux paysans un tems suffi- which, and the illness produced by the immersion sant pour examiner les propositions qu'on leur is the cause of her death. faisoit: il reussit par sa douceur: on prêche tou- The chateau is large, and seen along the lake for jours le Christianisme avec succès quand on le a great distance. The walls are white. prêche avec charité.
Bonnivard fut savant; ses manuscrits, qui sont dans la Biblothéque publique, prouvent qu'il avoit bien lu les auteurs classiques latins, et qu'il avoit And then there was a little isle. approfondi la théologie et l'histoire. Ce grand homme aimoit les sciences, et il croyoit qu'elles Page 186, line 16. pouvoient faire la gloire de Geneve; aussi il ne Between the entrances of the Rhone and Ville négligea rien pour les fixer dans cette ville nais-neuve, not far from Chillon, is a very small island; sante; en 1551 il donna sa bibliothèque au public; the only one I could perceive, in my voyage round elle fut le commencement de notre bibliothèque pub- and over the lake, within its circumference. It lique; et ces livres sont en partie les rares et belles contains a few trees, (I think not above three,) and éditions du quinzième siècle qu'on voit dans notre from its singleness and diminutive size has a pecucollection. Enfin, pendant la même année, ce bon liar effect upon the view. patriote institua la République son héritière à condition qu'elle employeroit ses biens à entretnir le collége dont on projettoit la fondation.
When the foregoing poem was composed I was not sufficiently aware of the history of Bonnivard, or I should have endeavored to dignify the subject by an attempt to celebrate his courage and his virtues. Some account of his life will be found in a
Il paroit que Bonnivard mourut en 1570; mais on ne peut l'assurer, parce qu'il y a une lacune dans le Nécrologe depuis le mois de Juillet 1570 jusques note appended to the "Sonnet on Chillon," with
which I have been furnished by the kindness of a citizen of that Republic, which is still proud of the memory of a man worthy of the best age of ancient freedom."
In a single night.
Page 183, line 17.
A VENETIAN STORY.
Rosalind. Farewell, Monsieur Traveller ; Look you lisp, and wear strange suits : disable all the benefits of you
Annotation of the Commentatore.
V. "Tis known, at least it should be, that throughout But saving this, you may put on whate'er All countries of the Catholic persuasion,
You like by way of doublet, cape, or cloak, Some weeks before Shrove Tuesday comes about, Such as in Monmouth-street, or in Rag Fair The people take their fill of recreation,
Would rig you out in seriousness or joke; And buy repentance, ere they grow devout, And even in Italy such places are,
However high their rank, or low their station, With prettier name in softer accents spoke, With fiddling, feasting, dancing, drinking, masking, For, bating Covent Garden, I can hit on And other things which may be had for asking. No place that's callid “Piazzi” in Great Britain
VI. The moment night with dusky mantle covers This feast is named the Carnival, which being
The skies, (and the more duskily the better,) Interpreted, implies “farewell to flesh:” The time less liked by husbands than by lovers So call’d, because the name and thing agreeing,
Begins, and prudery flings aside her fetter; Through Lent they live on fish both salt and fresh And gayety on restless tiptoe hovers,
But why they usher Lent with so much glee in, Giggling with all the gallants who beset her ; Is more than I can tell, although I guess And there are songs and quavers, roaring, humming, 'Tis as we take a glass with friends at parting, Guitars, and every other sort of strumming. In the stage-coach or packet just at starting. III.
Masks of all times and nations, Turks and Jews, And solid meats, and highly spiced ragouts, And harlequins and clowns, with feats gymnastical, To live for forty days on ill-dress'd fishes,
Greeks, Romans, Yankee-doodles, and Hindoos; Because they have no sauces to their stews, All kinds of dress, except the ecclesiastical, A thing which causes many "poohs” and “pishes,"
All people, as their fancies hit, may choose, And several oaths (which would not suit the Muse)
Instead of coat and small-clothes, than put on “ The curious in fish-sauce," before they cross A single stitch reflecting upon friars,
The sea, to bid their cook, or wife, or friend, Although you swore it only was in fun;
Walk or ride to the Strand, and buy in gross, They'd haul you o'er the coals, and stir the fires (Or if set out beforehand, these may send Of Phlegethon with every mother's son.
By any means least liable to loss,) Nor say one mass to cool the caldron's bubble Ketchup, Soy, Chili-Finegar, and Harvey, That boild your bones, unless you paid them double. Or, by the Lord! a Lent will well nigh starve ye;