Twine the young glowing wreath ! But pour not all your spirit in the song, Which through the sky's deep azure floats along Like summer's quickening breath! The ground is hollow in the path of mirth : Oh! far too daring seems the joy of earth, So darkly press'd and girdled in by death!

["The Festal Hour' certainly appears to us to be one of the noblest, regular, and classical odes in the English languagehappy in the general idea, and rich in imagery and illustration."-DR MOREHEAD in Constable's Magazine, Sept. 1823.]

SONG OF THE BATTLE OF MORGARTEN.

["In the year 1315, Switzerland was invaded by Duke Leopold of Austria, with a formidable army. It is well attested that this prince repeatedly declared he would trample

1 Stonehenge, said by some traditions to have been erected to the memory of Ambrosius, an early British king; and by others mentioned as a monumental record of the massacre of British chiefs here alluded to.

the audacious rustics under his feet;' and that he had procured a large stock of cordage, for the purpose of binding their chiefs, and putting them to death.

"The 15th October 1315 dawned. The sun darted its first rays on the shields and armour of the advancing host; and this being the first army ever known to have attempted the frontiers of the cantons, the Swiss viewed its long line with various emotions. Montfort de Tettnang led the cavalry into the narrow pass, and soon filled the whole space between the mountain (Mount Sattel) and the lake. The fifty men on the eminence (above Morgarten) raised a sudden shout, and rolled down heaps of rocks and stones among the crowded ranks. The confederates on the mountain, perceiving the impression made by this attack, rushed down in close array, and fell upon the flank of the disordered column. With massy clubs they dashed in pieces the armour of the enemy, and dealt their blows and thrusts with long pikes. The narrowness of the defile admitted of no evolutions, and a slight frost having injured the road, the horses were impeded in all their motions; many leaped into the lake; all were startled; and at last the whole column gave way, and fell suddenly back on the infantry; and these last, as the nature of the country did not allow them to open their files, were run over by the fugitives, and many of them trampled to death. A general rout ensued, and Duke Leopold was with much difficulty rescued by a peasant, who led him to Winterthur, where the historian of the times saw him arrive in the evening, pale, sullen, and dismayed."-PLANTA'S History of the Helvetic Confederacy.]

THE wine-month 2 shone in its golden prime,
And the red grapes clustering hung,
But a deeper sound, through the Switzer's clime,
Than the vintage music, rung-

A sound through vaulted cave,

A sound through echoing glen,

Like the hollow swell of a rushing wave; 'Twas the tread of steel-girt men.

And a trumpet, pealing wild and far,

Midst the ancient rocks was blown, Till the Alps replied to that voice of war With a thousand of their own.

And through the forest-glooms Flash'd helmets to the day; And the winds were tossing knightly plumes, Like the larch-boughs in their play.

In Hasli's3 wilds there was gleaming steel
As the host of the Austrian pass'd;
And the Schreckhorn's rocks, with a savage peal,
Made mirth of his clarion's blast.

Up midst the Righi snows
The stormy march was heard,

With the charger's tramp, whence fire-sparks rose,
And the leader's gathering-word.

2 Wine-month, the German name for October. 3 Hasli, a wild district in the canton of Berne.

♦ Schreckhorn, the peak of terror, a mountain in the canton of Berne.