Engelberg, the Hill of Angels

’T WAS eventide in summer’s glorious prime,

When walking lonely, ’mong the Alpine chain,

I first beheld Einsiedeln’s hallowed fane,

In the pure air serene, majestic climb,

And heard her Ave Mary softly chime:

And lo! ev’n while I gazed, along the plain

The monks walked forth, to bless the pilgrim train,

Who came from far to expiate their crime.

I then was but a stripling in my teens,

Delighting in all legendary lore;

Imagination revelled in such scenes;

Then judge my joy, to see what tales of yore

Of pilgrims, monks, and their dear lady, taught,

Before me thus, all unexpected, brought!