The Road to Appenzell

GREEN sunny road that skirts the foot

  Of low hills, clad from top to toe

With vines, beneath whose ripening fruit

  The yellow-coated pumpkins grow;

Road winding by the ruined tower,

  Whose olden story none can tell,

Road fringed with many a mountain flower,

  Road leading on to Appenzell!—

May thy soft shadows ne’er be less,

  Thy brawling brooklet never dumb!

The hours were winged with happiness

  Which saw me through thy valley come.

And by my side there tripped along

  The fairest of the mountain maids,

Who sang unasked her mountain song,

  And showed me all the rocks and glades.

I ne’er shall hear that song again,

  I ne’er shall see that Switzer dell,

But in my heart will aye remain

  The road that leads to Appenzell;

The sunny road that skirts the foot

  Of low hills, clad from top to toe

With vines, beneath whose ripening fruit

  The yellow-coated pumpkins grow!