The Night After the Battle. There is a mourning o’er Morgarten’s waters, There is a wailing in her wilder’d dells ; And many a maiden of Helvetia’s daughters Her tale of anguish to the wild wind tells. A stranger ear, amid those sounds of sadness Which came upon the night wind heavily, In vain had listen’d for the notes of gladness— The triumphing which tells of victory. Nought is heard save the death-song, sad replying To the wind’s moanings o’er that midnight wild, Where many a maiden watch’d a loved one dying, Or mother sorrow’d o’er her bleeding child. Oh, war ! when holiest, oh, infernal still ! Is this the ending of that death-won day, To give a freedom to the lonely hill, But snatch the souls which should be free away ? Too true, alas ! Morgarten’s wilds may tell How many a hero sleeps beneath her snows ; For memory fails to mark the lonely dell Which gives the victors of that day repose.