THE RECLUSE. 



Dearer than his little Willie 

 To the heart of William Tell. 



By a gushing glacier fountain. 



On the giant Wfitterhorn, 

 'Midst the snow-fields of the mountain. 



Was the little Gemze" born : 

 And his mother, though the mildest 



And the gentlest of the herd. 

 Was the fleetest and the wildest, 



And as lightsome as a bird. 

 But the gazer watch'd her gliding 



In the silence of the dawn, 

 Seeking for a place of hiding, 



For her little, tender fawn ; 

 So he mark'd her, all unheeding 



(Swift and sure the bolt of death); 

 And he bore her, dead and bleeding. 



To his Alpine home beneath. 

 And the orphan Gemze" follows, 



Calling her with plaintive bleat. 

 O'er the knolls and through the hollows. 



Trotting on with trembling feet. 



See, the cabin latch is raised 



By a small and gentle hand. 

 And the face that upward gazed 



Had a smile serene and bland ; 

 Bertha was the Switzer's daughter, 



And herself an orphan child ; 

 But her sorrows all had taught her 



To be gentle, kind, and mild. 

 You might see a tear-drop quivering 



In her honest eye of blue, 

 As she took the stranger, shivering. 



To her heart so warm and true. 

 " I will be thy mother, sweetest," 



To the fawn she whisper 1 d low ; 

 lk I will heed thee when thou bleatest. 



And will solace all thy woe." 

 Then the tottering Gemze", stealing 



Towards her, seem'd to understand, 

 Gazing on her face, and kneeling, 



Placed his nose within her hand ! 



Every day the Switzer maiden 

 Shared with him her milk and bread ; 

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