50
His little household store to bear,
And now his willing feet they guide
To the near church, their only pride.
Once more, from that same chapel mound,
He marks the dreary prospect round,
With anxious heart and wondering eye.
Here must he live — perhaps must die.
But o'er his thoughts thus backward cast,
Behold, a sudden change hath past.
For, by the law mysterious led
That links extremes, his fancy flies
From the low flats around him spread.
To lands where mountains pierce the skies.
The everlasting Alps she shows
Shaking from their o'erburdened brows
The crushing avalanche, that falls
In thunder down their rocky walls.
She pointeth from the idle boat
To the bold hunter, whose winged foot
Pursues the chamois' headlong flight,
