Went forth unseen, and, burdened as she was,

Crossed the high Alps on foot to ask forgiveness,

And hold him to her heart before he died.

Her task was done. She had fulfilled her wish,
And now was on her way rejoicing, weeping.

A frame like hers had suffered; but her love
Was strong within her; and right on she went,
Fearing no ill. May all good Angels guard her!

And should I once again, as once I may,

Visit Martigny, I will not forget

Thy hospitable roof, Margaret De Tours;

Thy sign the golden sun. Heaven prosper Thee!

VI.

THE ALPS.

WHO first beholds those everlasting clouds,

Seed-time and harvest, morning, noon and night, Still where they were, steadfast, immovable;

Who first beholds the Alps—that mighty chain Of Mountains, stretching on from east to west,

So massive, yet so shadowy, so ethereal,

As to belong rather to Heaven than Earth

But instantly receives into his soul

A sense, a feeling that he loses not,

A something that informs him 'tis a moment

Whence he may date henceforward and for ever?

To me they seemed the barriers of a World,

Saying, Thus far, no farther! and as o'er

The level plain I travelled silently,

Nearing them more and more, day after day,

My wandering thoughts my only company,

And they before me still, oft as I looked,

A strange delight, mingled with fear, came o'er me,

A wonder as at things I had not heard of!

Oft as I looked, I felt as though I saw them

For the first time!

Great was the tumult there,

Deafening the din, when in barbaric pomp

The Carthaginian on his march to Rome

Entered their fastnesses. Trampling the snows,

The war-horse reared; and the towered elephant Upturned his trunk into the murky sky,

Then tumbled headlong, swallowed up and lost,

He and his rider.

Now the scene is changed;

And o'er Mont Cenis, o'er the Simplon winds

A path of pleasure. Like a silver zone

Flung about carelessly, it shines afar,
Catching the eye in many a broken link,
In many a turn and traverse as it glides;