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Cold pour’d the sweat in freezing rill;
A rising wind began to sing;

And louder, louder, louder still,
Brought storm and tempest on its wing.

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Tm: author had resolved to omit the following version of a well-known poem, in any collection which he might make of his poetical trifles. But the publishers having pleaded for its admission, the author has consented, though not unaware of the disadvantage at which this youthful essay (for it was Written in 1795) must appear with those which have been executed by much more able hands, in particular that of Mr Taylor of Norwich, and that of Mr Spencer.

The following translation was written long before the author saw any other, and originated in the following circumstances. A lady of high rank in the literary world read this romantic sale, as translated by Mr Taylor, in the house of the celebrated Professor Dugald Stewart of Edinburgh. The author was not present, nor indeed in Edinburgh at the time; but a gentleman, who had the pleasure of hearing the ballad, afterwards told him the story, and repeated the remarkable chorus— '

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In attempting a translation, then intended only to irculate among friends, the present author did not csitate to make use of this impressive stanza; for which freedom he has since obtained the forgiveness f the ingenious gentleman to whom it properly be

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u 0 Hare-castle; thou heart of hare!» Fierce Oxenstern replied ;

u Shalt see then how the game will fare,» The taunted knight replied.

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Might wellnigh load a wain.l

And thus, they to each other said, t<Yon handful down to how

Will be no boastful tale to tell, The peasants are so few.»

The gallant Swiss confederates there,
They pray‘tl to God aloud,

And he display'(l his rainbow fair
Against a swarthy cloud.

Then heart and pulse throbb'd more and more
With courage firm and high,

And down the good confederates bore
On the Austrian chivalry.

The Austrian Lion2 ‘gan to growl,
And toss his mane and tail;

And ball, and shaft, and cross-bow bolt
Went wltistling forth like hail.

Lance, pike, and halberd mingled there,
The game was nothing sweet;

The boughs of many a stately tree
Lay shiver'd at their feet.

The Austrian men-at-arms stood fast,
So close their spears they laid;

It chafed the gallant Winkelried,
Who to his comrades said—

ul have a virtuous wife at home, A wife and infant son;

I leave them to my country's care,— This field shall soon be won.

<t These nobles lay their spears right thick, And keep full firm array,

Yet shall my charge their order break,
And make my brethren way.»

He rnsh‘d against the Austrian band, In desperate career,

And with his body, breast, and hand, Bore down each hostile spear‘.

Four lances splinter'd on his crest, Six shiver'd in his side;

Still on the serried files he press'd— He broke their ranks, and died.

This patriot’s self-devoted deed, First tamed the Lion's mood, And the four forest cantons freed From thraldom by his blood.

I All the Swils clergy who were able to bear arms fought in this

patriotic war.
* in the original, Haaunttein, or Hare-stone.

1 This seems to allude to the prepotteroue fashion, during the middle ages, of wearing boot: with the points or peak; turned upwards, and so lnng that, in some cases, they were fastened to the lines: of the wearer with small chains. When they nlighted to fight upon foot, it would teem that the Austrian gentlemen found it necessttry 10 cut off these peaks, that they might move with the necessary activity.

' A pun on the Archduke’: name, Leopold.

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