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Our children's fearless feet may bound, Free as the chamois leaps: Teach them in song to bless the band Amidst whose mossy graves we stand!

If, by the wood-fire's blaze, When winter-stars gleam cold, The glorious tales of elder days May proudly yet be told. Forget not then the shepherd-race, Who made the hearth a holy place!

Look on the white Alps round! If yet the sabbath bell Comes o'er them with a gladdening sound, Think on the battle-dell! For blood first bath'd its flowery sod, That chainless hearts might worship God!