of days. We ascended the Righi together; and, after contemplating the sunrise from that noble mountain, we separated at an hour and on a spot well suited to the parting of those who were to meet no more. Our party descended through the valley of our Lady of the Snow, and our late companions, to Art. We had hoped to meet in a few weeks at Geneva; but on the third succeeding day (on the 21st of August) Mr. Goddard perished, being overset in a boat while crossing the lake of Zurich. His companion saved himself by swimming, and was hospitably received in the mansion of a Swiss gentleman (M. Keller) situated on the eastern coast of the lake. The corpse of poor Goddard was cast ashore on the estate of the same gentleman, who generously performed all the rites of hospitality which could be rendered to the dead as well as to the living. He caused a handsome mural monument to be erected in the Church of Küsnacht, which records the premature fate of the young American, and on the shores too of the lake the traveller may read an inscription pointing out the spot where the body was deposited by the waves. LULLED by the sound of pastoral bells, The sky was blue, the air was mild; * Free were the streams and green the bowers; As if, to rough assaults unknown, The genial spot had ever shown A countenance that as sweetly smiled The face of summer-hours. And we were gay, our hearts at ease; * Mount Righi-Regina Montium We journeyed; all we knew of care— If foresight could have rent the veil Oh GODDARD! what art thou ?—a name— A sunbeam followed by a shade ! Nor more, for aught that time supplies, The great, the experienced, and the wise: Too much from this frail earth we claim, And therefore are betrayed. We met, while festive mirth ran wild, We parted upon solemn ground Fetch, sympathising Powers of air, Beloved by every gentle Muse Had opened on his eager glance; Though lodged within no vigorous frame, Her modest gratitude. Not vain is sadly-uttered praise; The words of truth's memorial vow Lamented Youth! to thy cold clay And, when thy Mother weeps for Thee, This tribute from a casual Friend XXXIV. SKY-PROSPECT-FROM THE PLAIN OF FRANCE. Lo! in the burning west, the craggy nape Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows * The persuasion here expressed was not groundless. The first human consolation that the afflicted Mother felt, was derived from this tribute to her son's memory, a fact which the author learned, at his own residence, from her Daughter, who visited Europe some years afterwards.-Goldau is one of the villages desolated by the fall of part of the Mountain Rossberg. XXXV. ON BEING STRANDED NEAR THE HARBOUR OF BOULOGNE*. WHY cast ye back upon the Gallic shore Of England-who in hope her coast had won, XXXVI. AFTER LANDING THE VALLEY OF DOVER. Nov. 1820. WHERE be the noisy followers of the game * See Note. |