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Updated: May 11, 2025
He heard the mountain-song of the joyful water: a wren-robin-thrush on the dance down of a faun; till it was caught and muted, and the silver foot slid along the channel, swift as moonbeams through a cloud, with an air of 'Whither you will, so it be on'; happy for service as in freedom.
One moment and her voice, in all its passionate, glorious fullness, rang out with a fresh vibrating tone that thrilled to the very heart and the foolish crowd that gaped and listened was speechless, motionless, astonished, and bewildered. A Norse mountain-song was it? How strange, and grand, and wild! George Lorimer stood apart his eyes ached with restrained tears.
For a long time many writers spoke of the frequency and intensity of nostalgia among the Swiss. Numerous cases of suicide from this affliction have been noticed among these hardy mountaineers, particularly on hearing the mountain-song of their homes, "Ranz des vaches."
And though she was but a wild, wayward, mischievous gamin, a gamin all over, though in a girl's form, men would tell in camp and hospital, with great tears coursing down their brown, scarred cheeks, how her touch would lie softly as a snowflake on their heated foreheads; how her watch would be kept by them through long nights of torment; how her gifts of golden trinkets would be sold or pawned as soon as received to buy them ice or wine; and how in their delirium the sweet, fresh voice of the child of the regiment would soothe them, singing above their wretched beds some carol or chant of their own native province, which it always seemed she must know by magic; for, were it Basque or Breton, were it a sea-lay of Vendee or a mountain-song of the Orientales, were it a mere, ringing rhyme for the mules of Alsace, or a wild, bold romanesque from the country of Berri Cigarette knew each and all, and never erred by any chance, but ever sung to every soldier the rhythm familiar from his infancy, the melody of his mother's cradle-song and of his first love's lips.
He heard the mountain-song of the joyful water: a wren-robin-thrush on the dance down of a faun; till it was caught and muted, and the silver foot slid along the channel, swift as moonbeams through a cloud, with an air of 'Whither you will, so it be on'; happy for service as in freedom.
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