P. 84, _The Swiss Cowherd's Song, in a Foreign Land_. "Imitated from the foregoing," _i. e._, the French verses.] THE SONG OF THE SWISS, IN A STRANGE LAND _Lit. Mirror_, I-148, Oct. 29, 1808, Portsmouth, N. H. [Also in _Emerald_, n. s., I-624, Oct. 15, 1808, Boston.] THE SONG OF THE SWISS IN A STRANGE LAND. _Balance and Columbian Repos._, VII-176, Nov. 1, 1808, Hudson, N. Y. [Also in _Emerald_, n. s., I-624, Oct. 15, 1808, Boston.] SONG OF THE SWISS IN A STRANGE LAND. _Norfolk Repos._, III-392, Nov. 8, 1808, Dedham, Mass. [Also in _Emerald_, n. s., I-624, Oct. 15, 1808, Boston.] THE SONG OF THE SWISS, IN A STRANGE LAND. By the Author of "The Wanderer of Switzerland." _Lady's Weekly Misc._, VIII-128, Dec. 17, 1808, N. Y. [Also in _Emerald_, n. s., I-624, Oct. 15, 1808, Boston.] APPOINTMENT DISAPPOINTED! OR, VON SCHLEMMER, AND "POT LUCK." An Englishman invited once A German friend to dine On plain _pot luck_,--for such his phrase-- And drink some good port wine. Mein Herr repaired at proper time With stomach for the treat: The viands on the table placed, Von Schlemmer took his seat. Soup, turkey, beef, by turns were serv'd, Mein Herr declin'd each one: Fowls, turtle, sauce, they follow'd next, Von Schlemmer tasted none. His host at length, by kindness urged, Press'd him to taste some duck: "Ach nein!" with groans Von Schlemmer said, "I vait for de POT LUCK." --QUIZ. _Select Reviews_, I-71, Jan. 1809, Phila. On singing to a piano with a friend, the pathetic ballad of Mozart's "Vergiss me nicht,"[46] a few days previous to quitting my native country. "Forget me not," nor yet the song, Its plaintive notes our tears beguiling, The fatal words died on my tongue, And as you touch'd the trembling keys along, Through lucid gems I saw you sadly smiling. "Forget me not," ah! song of wo! For never more our joys uniting, With Sorrow's sigh no more to glow; No more shall Pity's tear together flow, Our love, our hopes, our joys forever blighting. "Forget me not," oh! ever dear, Let thrilling mem'ry o'er my fancy stealing, As next you sing "Forget me not," a tear Shall gently fall, my beating heart to cheer; I'll never thee forget while I have life and feeling. Julia Francesca. _Port Folio_, VII (n. s. I)-272, Mar. 1809, Phila. [Footnote 46: The German of "Forget me not."] THE SOLDIER OF THE ALPS. In the vallies yet lingered the shadows of night, Though red on the glaciers the morning sun shone, When our moss-covered church-tower first broke on my sight, As I cross'd the vast oak o'er the cataract thrown.