Thoughts Of A Briton On The Subjugation Of Switzerland

Two Voices are there; one is of the Sea, One of the Mountains; each a mighty voice: In both from age to age thou didst rejoice, They were thy chosen music, Liberty! There came a tyrant, and with holy glee Thou fought’st against him—but hast vainly striven: Thou from thy Alpine holds at length art driven, Where not a torrent murmurs heard by thee. —Of one deep bliss thine ear hath been bereft; Then cleave, O cleave to that which still is left— For, high-souled Maid, what sorrow would it be That Mountain floods should thunder as before, And Ocean bellow from his rocky shore, And neither awful Voice be heard by thee!