With their bright hearth-fires, midst the twilight glooms,
From bowery lattice through the fir-woods shining—
A land of legends and wild songs, entwining
Their memory with all memories loved and blest—
In such a land there dwells a power, combining
The strength of many a calm but fearless breast;
And woe to him who breaks the Sabbath of its rest!
VI.
A sound went up—the wave’s dark sleep was broken—
On Uri’s lake was heard a midnight oar—