Page:Foreign Tales and Traditions (Volume 1).djvu/412

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LOVE TRIUMPHANT

A SWISS TRADITION.

Of night’s descending diademShone in the west one lonely gem,—Roused at the breezy call of morn,Above the horizon’s eastern boundThe sun shot up his golden horn,And with a wreath of glory crown’dThe snowy locks of far Shreckhorn,—While, slumbering in the gloom profound,The nearer Alps like giants lay,Nor even the lark had hailed the day;
Rolled o’er the lake the sullen swellOf Interlaken’s matin-bell,—With flapping wing and accent shrillThe startled wild-bird sought the sky,And the roused echoes of the hillWith all their voices gave reply,—Before the morning-breezes chillA lordly skiff went flashing by,And entered soon the cloistered hall,The lord of castled Schamalhthal.
And with him came his pensive spouseTo see the fearful convent-vows
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