Ay, we are all one heart, one blood, one race!
The nations round us bear a foreign yoke; For they have to the conqueror succumbed. Nay, e'en within our frontiers may be found Some, that owe villein service to a lord, A race of bonded serfs from sire to son. But we, the genuine race of ancient Swiss, Have kept our freedom from the first till now. Never to princes have we bow'd the knee; Freely we sought protection of the Empire.
Freely we sought it--freely it was given. 'Tis so set down in Emperor Frederick's charter.
For the most free have still some feudal lord. There must be still a chief, a judge supreme, To whom appeal may lie, in case of strife. And therefore was it that our sires allow'd, For what they had recover'd from the waste, This honor to the Emperor, the lord Of all the German and Italian soil; And, like the other free men of his realm, Engaged to aid him with their swords in war; The free man's duty this alone should be, To guard the Empire that keeps guard for him.
He's but a slave that would acknowledge more.
They followed, when the Heribann[53] went forth, The imperial standard, and they fought its battles! To Italy they march'd in arms, to place The Cæsars' crown upon the Emperor's head. But still at home they ruled themselves in peace By their own laws and ancient usages. The Emperor's only right was to adjudge The penalty of death; he therefore named Some mighty noble as his delegate, That had no stake or interest in the land, Who was call'd in, when doom was to be pass'd, And, in the face of day, pronounced decree, Clear and distinctly, fearing no man's hate. What traces here, that we are bondsmen? Speak, If there be any can gainsay my words!
No! You have spoken but the simple truth; We never stoop'd beneath a tyrant's yoke.
Even to the Emperor we did not submit, When he gave judgment 'gainst us for the church; For when the Abbey of Einsiedlen claimed The Alp our fathers and ourselves had grazed, And showed an ancient charter which bestowed The land on them as being ownerless-- For our existence there had been concealed-- What was our answer? This: "The grant is void. No Emperor can bestow what is our own And if the Empire shall deny our rights, We can, within our mountains, right ourselves!" Thus spake our fathers! And shall we endure The shame and infamy of this new yoke, And from the vassal brook what never king Dared, in his plenitude of power, attempt? This soil we have created for ourselves, By the hard labor of our hands; we've changed The giant forest, that was erst the haunt Of savage bears, into a home for man; Extirpated the dragon's brood, that wont To rise, distent with venom, from the swamps; Rent the thick misty canopy that hung Its blighting vapors on the dreary waste; Blasted the solid rock; across the chasm Thrown the firm bridge for the wayfaring man. By the possession of a thousand years The soil is ours. And shall an alien lord, Himself a vassal, dare to venture here, Insult us by our own hearth fires--attempt To forge the chains of bondage for our hands, And do us shame on our own proper soil? Is there no help against such wrong as this?