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I leave them to my country's care,

This field shall soon be won.

“ These nobles lay their spears right thick,

And keep full firm array,
Yet shall my charge their order break,
And make

miy brethren way."

He rush'd against the Austrian band,

In desperate career,
And with his body, breast, and hand,

Bore down each hostile spear.

Four lances splinter'd on his crest,

Six shiver'd in his side ;
Still on the serried files he press'd-

He broke their ranks, and died.

This patriot's self-devoted deed,

First tamed the Lion's mood,

And the four forest Cantons freed

From thraldom by his blood.

Right where his charge had made a lane,

His valiant comrades burst,
With sword and axe, and partizan,

And hack, and stab, and thrust.

The daunted Lion 'gan to whine,

And granted ground amain,
The mounted Bull,* he bent his brows,

And gored his sides again.

Then lost was banner, spear, and shield,

At Sempach in the flight,
The cloister vaults at Konig'sfield

Hold many an Austrian knight.

* A pun on the URUS, or wild bull, which gives name to the canton of Uri.

It was the Archduke Leopold,

So lordly would he ride, But he came against the Switzer churls,

And they slew him in his pride.

The Heifer said unto the Bull,

“ And shall I not complain ? There came a foreign nobleman

To milk me on the plain.

“ One thrust of thine outrageous horn

Has gall’d the knight so sore, That to the churchyard he is borne,

To range our glens no more.”

An Austrian noble left the stour,

And fast the flight 'gan take; And he arrived in luckless hour

At Sempach on the lake.

He and his squire a fisher callid,

(His name was Hans Von Rot,) “ For love, or meed, or charity,

Receive us in thy boat.”

Their anxious call the fisher heard,

And, glad the meed to win,
His shallop to the shore he steer'd,

And took the fliers in.

And while against the tide and wind

Hans stoutly row'd his way, The noble to his follower sign’d

He should the boatman slay.

The fisher's back was to them turn'd,

The squire his dagger drew, Hans saw his shadow in the lake,

The boat he overthrew.

He 'whelm'd the boat, and as they strove,

He stunn'd them with his oar, “ Now, drink ye deep, my gentle sirs,

You'll ne'er stab boatman more.

“ Two gilded fishes in the lake

This morning have I caught, Their silver scales may much avail,

Their carrion flesh is naught.”—

It was a messenger of woe

Has sought the Austrian land ; “ Ah! gracious lady, evil news !

My lord lies on the strand.

At Sempach, on the battle-field,

His blood corpse lies there.”Ah, gracious God !" the lady cried,

“ What tidings of despair !"

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