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+Project Gutenberg's Poems and Ballads of Heinrich Heine, by Heinrich Heine
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Poems and Ballads of Heinrich Heine
+
+Author: Heinrich Heine
+
+Translator: Emma Lazarus
+
+Release Date: March 21, 2010 [EBook #31726]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS/BALLADS OF HEINRICH HEINE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Meredith Bach and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ POEMS AND BALLADS
+ OF
+ HEINRICH HEINE.
+
+
+ _TRANSLATED BY EMMA LAZARUS._
+
+
+ TO WHICH IS PREFIXED
+ A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF HEINE.
+
+
+ NEW YORK:
+ R. WORTHINGTON, 770 BROADWAY.
+ 1881.
+
+
+ COPYRIGHT,
+ 1881,
+ BY EMMA LAZARUS.
+
+
+ PRESS OF J. J. LITTLE, & CO.,
+ NOS. 10 TO 20 ASTOR PLACE, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+ PAGE
+ HEINRICH HEINE, (BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH) v
+ EARLY POEMS 1
+ SONNETS TO MY MOTHER, B. HEINE, _née_ VON GELDERN 3
+ THE SPHINX 5
+ DONNA CLARA 9
+ DON RAMIRO 15
+ TANNHÄUSER 25
+ IN THE UNDERWORLD 38
+ THE VALE OF TEARS 45
+ SOLOMON 47
+ MORPHINE 49
+ SONG 50
+ SONG 51
+ SONG 54
+ HOMEWARD BOUND 57
+ SONGS TO SERAPHINE 135
+ TO ANGELIQUE 147
+ SPRING FESTIVAL 156
+ CHILDE HAROLD 157
+ THE ASRA 158
+ HELENA 160
+ SONG 161
+ THE NORTH SEA--FIRST CYCLUS 165
+ I. CORONATION 165
+ II. TWILIGHT 167
+ III. SUNSET 168
+ IV. NIGHT ON THE SHORE 171
+ V. POSEIDON 174
+ VI. DECLARATION 177
+ VII. NIGHT IN THE CABIN 179
+ VIII. STORM 183
+ IX. CALM 185
+ X. AN APPARITION IN THE SEA 187
+ XI. PURIFICATION 190
+ XII. PEACE 192
+ SECOND CYCLUS 195
+ I. SALUTATION TO THE SEA 195
+ II. TEMPEST 198
+ III. WRECKED 199
+ IV. SUNSET 202
+ V. THE SONG OF THE OCEANIDES 205
+ VI. THE GODS OF GREECE 209
+ VII. THE PHOENIX 214
+ VIII. QUESTION 215
+ IX. SEA-SICKNESS 216
+ X. IN PORT 220
+ XI. EPILOGUE 223
+
+
+
+
+HEINRICH HEINE.
+
+(BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.)
+
+
+Harry Heine, as he was originally named, was born in Düsseldorf on the
+Rhine, December 13th, 1799. His father was a well-to-do Jewish
+merchant; and his mother, the daughter of the famous physician and
+Aulic Counlor Von Geldern, was, according to her son, a "_femme
+distinguée_." His early childhood fell in the days of the occupation
+of Düsseldorf by the French revolutionary troops; and, in the opinion
+of his biographer Strodtmann, the influence of the French rule, thus
+brought directly to bear upon the formation of his character, can
+scarcely be exaggerated. His education was begun at the Franciscan
+monastery of the Jesuits at Düsseldorf, where the teachers were
+mostly French priests; and his religious instruction was at the same
+time carried on in a private Jewish school. His principal companions
+were Jewish children, and he was brought up with a rigid adherence to
+the Hebrew faith. Thus in the very seed-time of his mental development
+were simultaneously sown the germs of that Gallic liveliness and
+mobility which pre-eminently distinguish him among German authors, and
+also of his ineradicable sympathy with things Jewish, and his
+inveterate antagonism to the principles and results of Christianity.
+
+As the medical profession was in those days the only one open to Jews
+in Germany, the boy Heine was destined for a commercial career; and in
+1815 his father took him to Frankfort to establish him in a
+banking-house. But a brief trial proved that he was utterly unsuited
+to the situation, and after two months he was back again in
+Düsseldorf. Three years later he went to Hamburg, and made another
+attempt to adopt a mercantile pursuit under the auspices of his uncle,
+the wealthy banker Solomon Heine. The millionaire, however, was very
+soon convinced that the "fool of a boy" would never be fit for a
+counting-house, and declared himself willing to furnish his nephew
+with the means for a three years, course at the university, in order
+to obtain a doctor's degree and practice law in Hamburg. It was
+well-known that this would necessitate Harry's adoption of
+Christianity; but his proselytism did not strike those whom it most
+nearly concerned in the same way as it has impressed the world. So far
+from this being the case, he wrote in 1823 to his friend Moser: "Here
+the question of baptism enters; none of my family is opposed to it
+except myself; but this _myself_ is of a peculiar nature. With my mode
+of thinking, you can imagine that the mere act of baptism is
+indifferent to me; that even symbolically I do not consider it of any
+importance, and that I shall only dedicate myself more entirely to
+upholding the rights of my unhappy brethren. But, nevertheless, I find
+it beneath my dignity and a taint upon my honor, to allow myself to be
+baptized in order to hold office in Prussia. I understand very well
+the Psalmist's words: 'Good God, give me my daily bread, that I may
+not blaspheme thy name!'"
+
+The uncle's offer was accepted. In 1819 Harry Heine entered the
+university of Bonn. During his stay in Hamburg began his unrequited
+passion for a cousin who lived in that city--a passion which inspired
+a large portion of his poetry, and indeed gave the keynote to his
+whole tone and spirit. He sings so many different versions of the same
+story of disappointment, that it is impossible to ascertain, with all
+his frank and passionate confidences, the true course of the affair.
+After a few months at Bonn, he removed to the university of Göttingen,
+which he left in 1822 for Berlin. There is no other period in the
+poet's career on which it is so pleasant to linger as on the two years
+of his residence in the Prussian capital. In his first prose work, the
+_Letters from Berlin_, published in the _Rhenish-Westphalian
+Indicator_, he has painted a vivid picture of the life and gayety of
+the city during its most brilliant season. "At the last rout I was
+particularly gay, I was so beside myself, that I really do not know
+why I did not walk on my head. If my most mortal enemy had crossed my
+path, I should have said to him, To-morrow we will kill each other,
+but to-night I will cordially cover you with kisses. _Tu es beau, tu
+es charmant! Tu es l'objet de ma_ _flamme je t'adore, ma belle!_
+these were the words my lips repeated instinctively a hundred times;
+and I pressed everybody's hand, and I took off my hat gracefully to
+everybody, and all the men returned my civilities. Only one German
+youth played the boor, and railed against what he called my aping the
+manners of the foreign Babylon; and growled out in his old Teutonic,
+beer-drinking bass voice, 'At a _cherman_ masquerade, a _Cherman_
+should speak _Cherman_.' Oh German youth! how thy words strike me as
+not only silly, but almost blasphemous at such moments, when my soul
+lovingly embraces the entire universe, when I would fain joyfully
+embrace Russians and Turks, and throw myself in tears on the breast of
+my brother the enslaved African!"
+
+The doors of the most delightful, intellectual society of Germany were
+opened to the handsome young poet, who is described in a contemporary
+sketch as "beardless, blonde and pale, without any prominent feature
+in his face, but of so peculiar a stamp that he attracted the
+attention at once, and was not readily forgotten."
+
+The daughter of Elise von Hohenhausen, the translator of Byron, has
+given us a charming sketch of her mother's Thursday evening
+receptions, which Heine regularly attended, and where he read aloud
+the unpublished manuscripts of his _Lyrical Intermezzo_, and his
+tragidies, _Almansor_ and _Ratcliffe_. "He was obliged to submit,"
+writes Mlle. von Hohenhausen, "to many a harsh criticism, to much
+severe censure; above all, he was subjected to a great deal of
+chaffing about his poetic sentimentality, which a few years later
+awakened so warm a response in the hearts of German youth. The poem,
+ending, _Zu deinen süssen Füssen_ ('At thy sweet feet'), met with such
+laughing opposition, that he omitted it from the published edition.
+Opinions of his talents were various; a small minority had any
+suspicion of his future undisputed poetical fame. Elise von
+Hohenhausen, who gave him the name of the German Byron, met with many
+contradictions. This recognition, however, assured her an imperishable
+gratitude on Heine's part."
+
+Not only his social and intellectual faculties found abundant stimulus
+in this bracing atmosphere, but his moral convictions were directed
+and strengthened by the philosophy and personal influence of Hegel,
+and his sympathies with his own race were aroused to enthusiastic
+activity by the intelligent Jews who were at that time laboring in
+Berlin for the advancement of their oppressed brethren. In 1819 had
+been formed the "Society for the Culture and Improvement of the Jews,"
+which, though centered in Berlin, counted members all over Prussia, as
+well as in Vienna, Copenhagen, and New York. Heine joined it in 1822,
+and became one of its most influential members. In the educational
+establishment of the _Verein_, he gave for several months three hours
+of historical instruction a week. He frankly confessed that he, the
+"born enemy of all positive religions," was no enthusiast for the
+Hebrew faith, but he was none the less eager to proclaim himself an
+enthusiast for the rights of the Jews and their civil equality.
+
+During his brief visit to Frankfort, he had had personal experience of
+the degrading conditions to which his people were subjected.
+
+The contrast between his choice of residence for twenty-five years in
+Paris, and the tenacity with which Goethe clung to his home, is not as
+strongly marked as the contrast between the relative positions in
+Frankfort of these two men. Goethe, the grandson of the honored
+chief-magistrate, surrounded in his cheerful burgher-life, as Carlyle
+says, by "kind plenty, secure affection, manifold excitement and
+instruction," might well cherish golden memories of his native city.
+For him, the gloomy _Judengasse_, which he occasionally passed, where
+"squalid, painful Hebrews were banished to scour old clothes," was but
+a dark spot that only heightened the prevailing brightness of the
+picture. But to this wretched by-way was relegated that other
+beauty-enamored, artist-soul, Heine, when he dared set foot in the
+imperial Free Town. Here must he be locked in like a wild beast, with
+his miserable brethren every Sunday afternoon. And if the restrictions
+were a little less barbarous in other parts of Germany, yet how shall
+we characterize a national policy which closed to such a man as Heine
+every career that could give free play to his genius, and offered him
+the choice between money changing and medicine?
+
+It was not till he had exhausted every means of endeavoring to secure
+a remission of the humiliating decree that he consented to the public
+act of apostasy, and was baptized in the summer of 1825 in the
+Lutheran parsonage of Heiligenstadt with the name of Johann Christian
+Heinrich. During the period of his earnest labors for Judaism, he had
+buried himself with fervid zeal in the lore of his race, and had
+conceived the idea of a prose-legend, the _Rabbi of Bacharach_,
+illustrating the persecutions of his people during the middle ages.
+Accounts vary as to the fate of this work; some affirm that the
+manuscript was destroyed in a fire at Hamburg, and others that the
+three chapters which the world possesses are all that were ever
+completed. Heine, one of the most subjective of poets, treats this
+theme in a purely objective manner. He does not allow himself a word
+of comment, much less of condemnation concerning the outrages he
+depicts. He paints the scene as an artist, not as the passionate
+fellow-sufferer and avenger that he is. But what subtle eloquence
+lurks in that restrained cry of horror and indignation which never
+breaks forth, and yet which we feel through every line, gathering
+itself up like thunder on the horizon for a terrific outbreak at the
+end!
+
+Would that we could hear the explosion burst at last! We long for it
+throughout as the climax and the necessary result of the lowering
+electric influences of the story, and we lay aside the never-to-be
+completed fragment with the oppression of a nightmare. But a note of
+such tremendous power as Heine had struck in this romance, required
+for its prolonged sustention a singleness of purpose and an exaltation
+of belief in its efficacy and truth, which he no longer possessed
+after his renunciation of Judaism. He was no longer at one with
+himself, for no sooner was the irrevocable step taken than it was
+bitterly repented, not as a recantation of his principles--for as
+such, no one who follows the development of his mind can regard
+it,--but as an unworthy concession to tyrannic injustice. How
+sensitive he remained in respect to the whole question is proved most
+conspicuously by his refraining on all occasions from signing his
+Christian name, Heinrich. Even his works he caused to appear under the
+name of H. Heine, and was once extremely angry with his publisher for
+allowing by mistake the full name to be printed.
+
+The collection of poems in prose and verse known as the _Reisebilder_,
+embraced several years of Heine's literary activity, and represent
+widely-varying phases of his intellectual development. We need only
+turn to the volumes themselves to guess how bitter an experience must
+have filled the gap between the buoyant stream of sunny inspiration
+that ripples through the _Harz-Reise_, and the fierce spirit of
+vindictive malice which prompted Heine, six years later, to conclude
+his third and last volume with his unseemly diatribe against Count
+Platen. Notwithstanding their inequalities, the _Reisebilder_ remain
+one of the surest props of Heine's fame. So clear and perfect an
+utterance is sufficiently rare in all languages; but it becomes little
+short of a miracle when, as in this case, the medium of its
+transmission is German prose, a vehicle so bulky and unwieldy that no
+one before Heine had dared to enlist it in the service of airy
+phantasy, delicate humor and sparkling wit.
+
+During the summer of 1830, while he was loitering at Helgoland, he was
+roused to feverish excitement by the news of the July Revolution. He
+inveighed against the nobility in a preface to a pamphlet, called
+_Kahldorf on the Nobility_, which largely increased the number of his
+powerful enemies. The literary censorship had long mutilated his prose
+writings, besides materially diminishing his legitimate income by
+prohibiting the sale of many of his works. He now began to fear that
+his personal liberty would be restricted as summarily as his literary
+activity; and in May, 1831, he took up his residence in Paris. He
+perfected himself in the French language, and by his brilliant essays
+on French art, German philosophy, and the Romantic School, soon
+acquired the reputation of one of the best prose writers of France,
+and the "wittiest Frenchman since Voltaire." He became deeply
+interested in the doctrine of St. Simonism, then at its culminating
+point in Paris. Its central idea of the rehabilitation of the flesh,
+and the sacredness of labor, found an enthusiastic champion in him who
+had so long denounced the impracticable spiritualism of Christianity.
+He, the logical clear-headed sceptic in all matters pertaining to
+existing systems and creeds, seems possessed with the credulity of a
+child in regard to every scheme of human regeneration, or shall we
+call it the exaltation of the Jew, for whom the Messiah has not yet
+arrived, but is none the less confidently and hourly expected?
+Embittered by repeated disappointments, by his enforced exile, by a
+nervous disease which had afflicted him from his youth, and was now
+fast gaining upon him, and by the impending shadow of actual want,
+Heine's tone now assumes a concentrated acridity, and his poetry
+acquires a reckless audacity of theme and treatment. His _Neue
+Lieder_, addressed to notorious Parisian women, were regarded as an
+insult to decency. In literary merit many of them vie with the best of
+his earlier songs; but the daring defiance of public opinion displayed
+in the choice of subject excluded all other criticism than that of
+indignation and rebuke. There is but a single ray to lighten the
+gathering gloom of Heine's life at this period. In a letter dated,
+April 11th, 1835, occurs his first mention of his _liaison_ with the
+grisette Mathilde Crescence Mirat, who afterwards became his wife.
+This uneducated, simple-hearted, affectionate child-wife inspired in
+the poet, weary of intellectual strife, a love as tender and constant
+as it had been sudden and passionate. A variety of circumstances
+having combined to reduce Heine to extreme want, he had recourse to a
+step which has been very severely censured. He applied for and
+received from the French government a pension from the fund set aside
+for "all those who by their zeal for the cause of the Revolution had
+more or less compromised themselves at home or abroad." Now that the
+particulars of the case are so well known, it would be superfluous to
+add any words of justification; it can only excite our sympathy for
+the haughty poet doomed to drain so bitter a cup. He was pressed to
+take the oath of naturalization, but he had too painful experience of
+the renunciation of his birthright ever to consent to a repetition of
+his error. He would not forfeit the right to have inscribed upon his
+tomb-stone: "Here lies a German poet."
+
+In 1844 his uncle Solomon died; and, as there was no stipulation in
+the banker's will that the yearly allowance hitherto granted to
+Heinrich should continue, the oldest heir Karl announced that this
+would altogether cease. This very cousin Karl had been nursed by Heine
+at the risk of his own life during the cholera-plague of 1832 in
+Paris. The grief and excitement caused by his kinsman's ingratitude
+fearfully accelerated the progress of the malady which had long been
+gaining upon the poet, and which proved to be a softening of the
+spinal cord. One eye was paralyzed, he lost the sense of taste, and
+complained that everything he ate was like clay. His physicians
+agreed that he had few weeks to live, and he felt that he was dying,
+little divining that the agony was to be prolonged for ten horrible
+years. It is unnecessary to dwell upon these years of darkness, in
+which Heine, shriveled to the proportions of a child, languished upon
+his "mattress-grave" in Paris. His patient resignation, his
+indomitable will, his sweetness and gayety of temper, and his
+unimpaired vigor and fertility of intellect, are too fresh in the
+memory of many living witnesses, and have been too frequently and
+recently described to make it needful here to enlarge upon them. In
+the crucial hour he proved no recreant to the convictions for which he
+had battled and bled during a lifetime. Of the report that his illness
+had materially modified his religious opinions, he has left a complete
+and emphatic denial. "I must expressly contradict the rumor that I
+have retreated to the threshold of any sort of church, or that I have
+reposed upon its bosom. No! My religious views and convictions have
+remained free from all churchdom; no belfry chime has allured me, no
+altar taper has dazzled me. I have trifled with no symbol, and have
+not utterly renounced my reason. I have forsworn nothing--not even my
+old pagan-gods, from whom it is true I have parted, but parted in love
+and friendship."
+
+"I am no longer a divine biped," he wrote. "I am no longer the freest
+German after Goethe, as Ruge named me in healthier days. I am no
+longer the great hero No. 2, who was compared with the grape-crowned
+Dionysius, whilst my colleague No. 1 enjoyed the title of a Grand
+Ducal Wlimarian Jupiter. I am no longer a joyous, somewhat corpulent
+Hellenist, laughing cheerfully down upon the melancholy Nazarenes. I
+am now a poor fatally-ill Jew, an emaciated picture of woe, an unhappy
+man."
+
+Thus side by side flowed on the continuous streams of that wit and
+pathos which he poured forth inexhaustibly to the very end. No word of
+complaint or impatience ever passed his lips; on the contrary, with
+his old, irresistible humor, his fancy played about his own privations
+and sufferings, and tried to alleviate for his devoted wife and
+friends the pain of the heart-rending spectacle. His delicate
+consideration prompted him to spare his venerable mother all knowledge
+of his illness. He wrote to her every month in his customary cheerful
+way; and, in sending her the latest volumes of his poetry, he caused a
+separate copy always to be printed, from which all allusions to his
+malady were expunged. "For that matter," he said, "that any son could
+be as wretched and miserable as I, no mother would believe."
+
+Alas! if he had known how much more eloquent and noble a refutation
+his life would afford than his mistaken passionate response to the
+imputations of his enemies! Is this patient martyr the man of whom
+Börne wrote: "with his sybarite nature, the fall of a rose-leaf can
+disturb Heine's slumber. He whom all asperities fatigue, whom all
+discords trouble, let such a one neither move nor think--let him go to
+bed and shut his eyes."
+
+Only in his last poems, which were not to be published till after his
+death, has Heine given free vent to the bitterness of his anguish.
+During the long sleepless night when he lay writhing with pain or
+exhausted by previous paroxysms, his mind, preternaturally clear and
+vigorous, conceived the glowing fantasies of the _Romancero_, or the
+Job-like lamentations of the _Lazarus_ poems. This mental exercise was
+his protection against insanity: and the thought of his cherished
+wife, he affirmed, was his only safeguard against the delirious desire
+to seize the morphine bottle by his side, and with one draught put an
+end to his agony. On the night of the 16th of February, 1856, came the
+long-craved release--and on the 20th of February without mass or
+"Kaddish," according to his express wish, he was buried in the
+cemetery of Montmartre.
+
+
+
+
+EARLY POEMS.
+
+
+
+
+SONNETS TO MY MOTHER, B. HEINE, _née_ VON GELDERN.
+
+
+I.
+
+ I have been wont to bear my forehead high--
+ My stubborn temper yields with no good grace.
+ The king himself might look me in the face,
+ And yet I would not downward cast mine eye.
+ But I confess, dear mother, openly,
+ However proud my haughty spirit swell,
+ When I within thy blessed presence dwell,
+ Oft am I smit with shy humility.
+ Is it thy soul, with secret influence,
+ Thy lofty soul piercing all shows of sense,
+ Which soareth, heaven-born, to heaven again?
+ Or springs it from sad memories that tell
+ How many a time I caused thy dear heart pain,
+ Thy gentle heart, that loveth me so well!
+
+
+II.
+
+ In fond delusion once I left thy side;
+ Unto the wide world's end I fain would fare,
+ To see if I might find Love anywhere,
+ And lovingly embrace Love as a bride.
+ Love sought I in all paths, at every gate;
+ Oft and again outstretching suppliant palms,
+ I begged in vain of Love the slightest alms,
+ But the world laughed and offered me cold hate.
+ Forever I aspired towards Love, forever
+ Towards Love, and ne'ertheless I found Love never,--
+ And sick at heart, homeward my steps did move.
+ And lo! thou comest forth to welcome me;
+ And that which in thy swimming eyes I see,
+ That is the precious, the long-looked-for Love.
+
+
+
+
+THE SPHINX.
+
+
+ This is the old enchanted wood,
+ Sweet lime trees scent the wind;
+ The glamor of the moon has cast
+ A spell upon my mind.
+
+ Onward I walk, and as I walk--
+ Hark to that high, soft strain!
+ That is the nightingale, she sings,
+ Of love and of love's pain.
+
+ She sings of love and of love's pain,
+ Of laughter and of tears.
+ So plaintive her carol, so joyous her sobs,
+ I dream of forgotten years.
+
+ Onward I walk, and as I walk,
+ There stands before mine eyes
+ A castle proud on an open lawn,
+ Whose gables high uprise.
+
+ With casements closed, and everywhere
+ Sad silence in court and halls,
+ It seemed as though mute death abode
+ Within those barren walls.
+
+ Before the doorway crouched a sphinx,
+ Half horror and half grace;
+ With a lion's body, a lion's claws,
+ And a woman's breast and face.
+
+ A woman fair! The marble glance
+ Spake wild desire and guile.
+ The silent lips were proudly curled
+ In a confident, glad smile.
+
+ The nightingale, she sang so sweet,
+ I yielded to her tone.
+ I touched, I kissed the lovely face,
+ And lo, I was undone!
+
+ The marble image stirred with life,
+ The stone began to move;
+ She drank my fiery kisses' glow
+ With panting thirsty love.
+
+ She well nigh drank my breath away;
+ And, lustful still for more,
+ Embraced me, and my shrinking flesh
+ With lion claws she tore.
+
+ Oh, rapturous martyrdom! ravishing pain!
+ Oh, infinite anguish and bliss!
+ With her horrible talons she wounded me,
+ While she thrilled my soul with a kiss.
+
+ The nightingale sang: "Oh beautiful sphinx.
+ Oh love! what meaneth this?
+ That thou minglest still the pangs of death
+ With thy most peculiar bliss?
+
+ Thou beautiful Sphinx, oh solve for me
+ This riddle of joy and tears!
+ I have pondered it over again and again,
+ How many thousand years!"
+
+
+
+
+DONNA CLARA.
+
+
+ In the evening through her garden
+ Wanders the Alcalde's daughter;
+ Festal sounds of drum and trumpet
+ Ring out hither from the castle.
+
+ "I am weary of the dances,
+ Honeyed words of adulation
+ From the knights who still compare me
+ To the sun,--with dainty phrases.
+
+ "Yes, of all things I am weary,
+ Since I first beheld by moonlight,
+ Him my cavalier, whose zither
+ Nightly draws me to my casement.
+
+ "As he stands, so slim and daring,
+ With his flaming eyes that sparkle
+ From his nobly-pallid features,
+ Truly he St. George resembles."
+
+ Thus went Donna Clara dreaming,
+ On the ground her eyes were fastened,
+ When she raised them, lo! before her
+ Stood the handsome, knightly stranger.
+
+ Pressing hands and whispering passion,
+ These twain wander in the moonlight.
+ Gently doth the breeze caress them,
+ The enchanted roses greet them.
+
+ The enchanted roses greet them,
+ And they glow like love's own heralds;
+ "Tell me, tell me, my belovèd,
+ Wherefore, all at once thou blushest."
+
+ "Gnats were stinging me, my darling,
+ And I hate these gnats in summer,
+ E'en as though they were a rabble
+ Of vile Jews with long, hooked noses."
+
+ "Heed not gnats nor Jews, belovèd,"
+ Spake the knight with fond endearments.
+ From the almond-tree dropped downward
+ Myriad snowy flakes of blossoms.
+
+ Myriad snowy flakes of blossoms
+ Shed around them fragrant odors.
+ "Tell me, tell me, my belovèd,
+ Looks thy heart on me with favor?"
+
+ "Yes, I love thee, oh my darling,
+ And I swear it by our Savior,
+ Whom the accursèd Jews did murder
+ Long ago with wicked malice."
+
+ "Heed thou neither Jews nor Savior,"
+ Spake the knight with fond endearments;
+ Far-off waved as in a vision
+ Gleaming lilies bathed in moonlight.
+
+ Gleaming lilies bathed in moonlight
+ Seemed to watch the stars above them.
+ "Tell me, tell me, my belovèd,
+ Didst thou not erewhile swear falsely?"
+
+ "Naught is false in me, my darling,
+ E'en as in my bosom floweth
+ Not a drop of blood that's Moorish,
+ Neither of foul Jewish current."
+
+ "Heed not Moors nor Jews, belovèd,"
+ Spake the knight with fond endearments.
+ Then towards a grove of myrtles
+ Leads he the Alcalde's daughter.
+
+ And with love's slight, subtle meshes,
+ He hath trapped her and entangled;
+ Brief their words, but long their kisses,
+ For their hearts are overflowing.
+
+ What a melting bridal carol,
+ Sings the nightingale, the pure one!
+ How the fire-flies in the grasses
+ Trip their sparkling, torch-light dances!
+
+ In the grove the silence deepens;
+ Naught is heard save furtive rustling
+ Of the swaying myrtle branches,
+ And the breathing of the flowers.
+
+ But the sound of drum and trumpet
+ Burst forth sudden from the castle.
+ Rudely they awaken Clara,
+ Pillowed on her lover's bosom.
+
+ "Hark, they summon me, my darling.
+ But before I go, oh tell me,
+ Tell me what thy precious name is,
+ Which so closely thou hast hidden."
+
+ And the knight, with gentle laughter,
+ Kissed the fingers of his donna,
+ Kissed her lips and kissed her forehead,
+ And at last these words he uttered:
+
+ "I, Señora, your belovèd,
+ Am the son of the respected
+ Worthy, erudite Grand Rabbi,
+ Israel of Saragossa!"
+
+
+
+
+DON RAMIRO.
+
+
+ "Donna Clara! Donna Clara!
+ Hotly-loved through years of passion!
+ Thou hast wrought me mine undoing,
+ And hast wrought it without mercy!
+
+ "Donna Clara! Donna Clara!
+ Still the gift of life is pleasant.
+ But beneath the earth 'tis frightful,
+ In the grave so cold and darksome.
+
+ "Donna Clara! Laugh, be merry,
+ For to-morrow shall Fernando
+ Greet thee at the nuptial altar.
+ Wilt thou bid me to the wedding?"
+
+ "Don Ramiro! Don Ramiro!
+ Very bitter sounds thy language,
+ Bitterer than the stars' decrees are,
+ Which bemock my heart's desire.
+
+ "Don Ramiro! Don Ramiro!
+ Cast aside thy gloomy temper.
+ In the world are many maidens,
+ But us twain the Lord hath parted.
+
+ "Don Ramiro, thou who bravely
+ Many and many a man hast conquered,
+ Conquer now thyself,--to-morrow
+ Come and greet me at my wedding."
+
+ "Donna Clara! Donna Clara!
+ Yes, I swear it. I am coming.
+ I will dance with thee the measure.
+ Now good-night! I come to-morrow."
+
+ "So good-night!" The casement rattled,
+ Sighing neath it, stood Ramiro.
+ Long he stood a stony statue,
+ Then amidst the darkness vanished.
+
+ After long and weary struggling,
+ Night must yield unto the daylight.
+ Like a many-colored garden,
+ Lies the city of Toledo.
+
+ Palaces and stately fabrics
+ Shimmer in the morning sunshine.
+ And the lofty domes of churches
+ Glitter as with gold incrusted.
+
+ Humming like a swarm of insects,
+ Ring the bells their festal carol.
+ With sweet tones the sacred anthem
+ From each house of God ascendeth.
+
+ But behold, behold! beyond there,
+ Yonder from the market-chapel,
+ With a billowing and a swaying,
+ Streams the motley throng of people.
+
+ Gallant knights and noble ladies,
+ In their holiday apparel;
+ While the pealing bells ring clearly,
+ And the deep-voiced organ murmurs.
+
+ But a reverential passage
+ In the people's midst is opened,
+ For the richly-clad young couple,
+ Donna Clara, Don Fernando.
+
+ To the bridegroom's palace-threshold,
+ Wind the waving throngs of people;
+ There the wedding feast beginneth,
+ Pompous in the olden fashion.
+
+ Knightly games and open table,
+ Interspersed with joyous laughter,
+ Quickly flying, speed the hours,
+ Till the night again hath fallen.
+
+ And the wedding-guests assemble
+ For the dance within the palace,
+ And their many-colored raiment
+ Glitters in the light of tapers.
+
+ Seated on a lofty dais,
+ Side by side, are bride and bridegroom,
+ Donna Clara, Don Fernando,--
+ And they murmur sweet love-whispers.
+
+ And within the hall wave brightly
+ All the gay-decked streams of dancers;
+ And the rolling drums are beaten.
+ Shrill the clamorous trumpet soundeth.
+
+ "Wherefore, wherefore, beauteous lady,
+ Are thy lovely glances fastened
+ Yonder in the hall's far corner?"
+ In amazement asked Fernando.
+
+ "See'st thou not, oh Don Fernando,
+ Yonder man in sable mantle?"
+ And the knight spake, kindly smiling,
+ "Why, 'tis nothing but a shadow."
+
+ But the shadow drew anear them,
+ 'Twas a man in sable mantle.
+ Clara knows at once Ramiro,
+ And she greets him, blushing crimson.
+
+ And the dance begins already,
+ Gaily whirl around the dancers
+ In the waltz's reckless circles,
+ Till the firm floor creaks and trembles.
+
+ "Yes, with pleasure, Don Ramiro,
+ I will dance with thee the measure;
+ But in such a night-black mantle
+ Thou shouldst never have come hither."
+
+ With fixed, piercing eyes, Ramiro
+ Gazes on the lovely lady.
+ Then embracing her, speaks strangely,--
+ "At thy bidding I came hither."
+
+ In the wild whirl of the measure,
+ Press and turn the dancing couple,
+ And the rolling drums are beaten,
+ Shrill the clamorous trumpet soundeth.
+
+ "White as driven snow thy cheeks are!"
+ Whispers Clara, inly trembling.
+ "At thy bidding I came hither,"
+ Hollow ring Ramiro's accents.
+
+ In the hall the tapers flicker,
+ With the eddying stream of dancers,
+ And the rolling drums are beaten,
+ Shrill the clamorous trumpet soundeth.
+
+ "Cold as ice I feel thy fingers,"
+ Whispers Clara, thrilled with terror.
+ "At thy bidding I came hither."
+ And they rush on in the vortex.
+
+ "Leave me, leave me, Don Ramiro!
+ Like a corpse's scent thy breath is."
+ Once again the gloomy sentence,
+ "At thy bidding I came hither."
+
+ And the firm floor glows and rustles,
+ Merry sound the horns and fiddles;
+ Like a woof of strange enchantment,
+ All within the hall is whirling.
+
+ "Leave me, leave me, Don Ramiro!"
+ All is waving and revolving.
+ Don Ramiro still repeateth,
+ "At thy bidding I came hither."
+
+ "In the name of God, begone then!"
+ Clara shrieked, with steadfast accent.
+ And the word was scarcely spoken,
+ When Ramiro had evanished.
+
+ Clara stiffens! deathly pallid,
+ Numb with cold, with night encompassed.
+ In a swoon the lovely creature
+ To the shadowy realm is wafted.
+
+ But the misty slumber passes,
+ And at last she lifts her eyelids.
+ Then again from sheer amazement
+ Her fair eyes at once she closes.
+
+ For she sees she hath not risen,
+ Since the dance's first beginning.
+ Still she sits beside the bridegroom,
+ And he speaks with anxious question.
+
+ "Say, why waxed thy cheek so pallid?
+ Wherefore filled thine eyes with shadows?"
+ "And Ramiro?" stammers Clara,
+ And her tongue is glued with horror.
+
+ But with deep and serious furrows
+ Is the bridegroom's forehead wrinkled.
+ "Lady, ask not bloody tidings--
+ Don Ramiro died this morning."
+
+
+
+
+TANNHÄUSER.
+
+A LEGEND.
+
+
+I.
+
+ Good Christians all, be not entrapped
+ In Satan's cunning snare.
+ I sing the lay of Tannhäuser,
+ To bid your souls beware.
+
+ Brave Tannhäuser, a noble knight,
+ Would love and pleasure win.
+ These lured him to the Venusberg.
+ Seven years he bode therein.
+
+ "Dame Venus, loveliest of dames,
+ Farewell, my life, my bride.
+ Oh give me leave to part from thee,
+ No longer may I bide."
+
+ "My noble knight, my Tannhäuser,
+ Thou'st kissed me not to-day.
+ Come, kiss me quick, and tell me now,
+ What lack'st thou here, I pray?
+
+ "Have I not poured the sweetest wine
+ Daily for thee, my spouse?
+ And have I not with roses, dear,
+ Each day enwreathed thy brows?"
+
+ "Dame Venus, loveliest of dames,
+ My soul is sick, I swear,
+ Of kisses, roses and sweet wine,
+ And craveth bitter fare.
+
+ "We have laughed and jested far too much,
+ And I yearn for tears this morn.
+ Would that my head no rose-wreath wore,
+ But a crown of sharpest thorn."
+
+ "My noble knight, my Tannhäuser,
+ To vex me thou art fain.
+ Hast thou not sworn a thousand times
+ To leave me never again?
+
+ "Come! to my chamber let us go;
+ Our love shall be secret there.
+ And thy gloomy thoughts shall vanish at sight
+ Of my lily-white body fair."
+
+ "Dame Venus, loveliest of dames,
+ Immortal thy charms remain.
+ As many have loved thee ere to-day,
+ So many shall love again.
+
+ "But when I think of the heroes and gods,
+ Who feasted long ago,
+ Upon thy lily-white body fair,
+ Then sad at heart I grow.
+
+ Thy lily-white body filleth me
+ With loathing, for I see
+ How many more in years to come
+ Shall enjoy thee, after me."
+
+ "My noble knight, my Tannhäuser,
+ Such words thou should'st not say.
+ Far liefer had I thou dealt'st me a blow,
+ As often ere this day.
+
+ "Far liefer had I thou should'st strike me low,
+ Than such an insult speak;
+ Cold, thankless Christian that thou art,
+ Thus the pride of my heart to break.
+
+ "Because I have loved thee far too well,
+ To hear such words is my fate,
+ Farewell! I give thee free leave to go.
+ Myself, I open the gate!"
+
+
+II.
+
+ In Rome, in Rome, in the holy town,
+ To the music of chimes and of song,
+ A stately procession moves,--the Pope
+ Strides in the midst of the throng.
+
+ This is the pious Pope Urbain;
+ The triple crown he wears,
+ The crimson robe,--and many a lord
+ The train of his garment bears.
+
+ "Oh, holy Father, Pope Urbain,
+ I have a tale to tell;
+ I stir not hence, till thou shrivest me,
+ And savest me from hell."
+
+ The people stand in a circle near,
+ And the priestly anthems cease;
+ Who is the pilgrim wan and wild,
+ Who falleth upon his knees?
+
+ "Oh, holy Father, Pope Urbain,
+ Who canst bind and loose as well,
+ Now save me from the evil one,
+ And from the pains of hell.
+
+ "I am the noble Tannhäuser,
+ Who love and lust would win,
+ These lured me to the Venusberg,
+ Seven years I bode therein.
+
+ "Dame Venus is a beauteous dame,
+ Her charms have a subtle glow.
+ Like sunshine with fragrance of flowers blent
+ Is her voice so soft and low.
+
+ "As the butterfly flutters anigh a flower,
+ From its delicate chalice sips,
+ In such wise ever fluttered my soul
+ Anigh to her rosy lips.
+
+ "Her rich black ringlets floating loose,
+ Her noble face enwreath.
+ When once her large eyes rest on thee,
+ Thou canst not stir nor breathe.
+
+ "When once her large eyes rest on thee,
+ With chains thou art bounden fast;
+ 'Twas only in sorest need I chanced
+ To flee from her hill at last.
+
+ "From her hill at last I have escaped,
+ But through all the livelong day,
+ Those beautiful eyes still follow me.
+ 'Come back!' they seem to say.
+
+ "A lifeless ghost all day I pine,
+ But at night I dream of my bride,
+ And then my spirit awakes in me.
+ She laughs and sits by my side.
+
+ "How hearty, how happy, how reckless her laugh!
+ How the pearly white teeth outpeep!
+ Ah! when I remember that laugh of hers,
+ Then sudden tears must I weep.
+
+ "I love her, I love her with all my might,
+ And nothing my love can stay,
+ 'Tis like to a rushing cataract,
+ Whose force no man can sway.
+
+ "For it dashes on from cliff to cliff,
+ And roareth and foameth still.
+ Though it break its neck a thousand times,
+ Its course it would yet fulfill.
+
+ "Were all of the boundless heavens mine,
+ I would give them all to her,
+ I would give her the sun, I would give her the moon
+ And each star in its shining sphere.
+
+ "I love her, I love her with all my might,
+ With a flame that devoureth me.
+ Can these be already the fires of hell,
+ That shall glow eternally?
+
+ "Oh, holy Father, Pope Urbain,
+ Who canst bind and loose as well,
+ Now save me from the evil one,
+ And from the pains of hell!"
+
+ Sadly the Pope upraised his hand,
+ And sadly began to speak:
+ "Tannhäuser, most wretched of all men,
+ This spell thou canst not break.
+
+ "The devil called Venus is the worst
+ Amongst all we name as such.
+ And nevermore canst thou be redeemed
+ From the beautiful witch's clutch.
+
+ "Thou with thy spirit must atone
+ For the joys thou hast loved so well;
+ Accursed art thou! thou are condemned
+ Unto everlasting hell!"
+
+
+III.
+
+ So quickly fared Sir Tannhäuser,--
+ His feet were bleeding and torn--
+ Back to the Venusberg he came,
+ Ere the earliest streak of morn.
+
+ Dame Venus, awakened from her sleep,
+ From her bed upsprang in haste.
+ Already she hath with her arms so white
+ Her darling spouse embraced.
+
+ Forth from her nose outstreams the blood,
+ The tears from her eyelids start;
+ She moistens the face of her darling spouse
+ With the tears and blood of her heart.
+
+ The knight lay down upon her bed,
+ And not a word he spake;
+ Dame Venus to the kitchen went
+ A bowl of broth to make.
+
+ She gave him broth, she gave him bread,
+ She bathed his wounded feet;
+ She combed for him his matted hair,
+ And laughed so low and sweet:
+
+ "My noble knight, my Tannhäuser,
+ Long hast thou left my side.
+ Now tell me in what foreign lands
+ So long thou couldst abide."
+
+ "Dame Venus, loveliest of dames,
+ I tarried far from home.
+ In Rome I had some business, dear,
+ But quickly back have come.
+
+ "On seven hills great Rome is built,
+ The Tiber flows to the sea.
+ And while in Rome I saw the Pope;
+ He sent his love to thee.
+
+ "Through Florence led my journey home,
+ Through Milan, too, I passed;
+ And glad at heart, through Switzerland
+ I clambered back at last.
+
+ "But as I went across the Alps,
+ The snow began to fall;
+ Below, the blue lakes smiled on me;
+ I heard the eagles call.
+
+ "When I upon St. Gothard stood,
+ I heard the Germans snore;
+ For softly slumbered there below
+ Some thirty kings and more.
+
+ "To Frankfort I on _Schobbas_ came,
+ Where dumplings were my food.
+ They have the best religion there:
+ Goose-giblets, too, are good.
+
+ "In Weimar, the widowed muse's seat,
+ Midst general grief I arrive.
+ The people are crying 'Goethe's dead,
+ And Eckermann's still alive!'"[A]
+
+ [A] There are eight more verses to this poem, which I take
+ the liberty of omitting.
+ E. L.
+
+
+
+
+IN THE UNDERWORLD.
+
+
+I.
+
+ "O to be a bachelor!"
+ Pluto now forever sighs.
+ "In my marriage miseries,
+ I perceive, without a wife
+ Hell was not a hell before.
+
+ "O to be a bachelor!
+ Since my Proserpine is mine,
+ Daily for my grave I pine,
+ When she raileth I can hear
+ Barking Cerberus no more.
+
+ "My poor heart needs rest and ease,
+ In the realm of shades I cry,--
+ No lost soul is sad as I.
+ Sisyphus I envy now,
+ And the fair Danaïdes."
+
+
+II.
+
+ In the realm of shades, on a throne of gold,
+ By the side of her royal spouse, behold
+ Fair Proserpine,
+ With gloomy mien,
+ While deep sighs upheave her bosom.
+
+ "The roses, the passionate song I miss
+ Of the nightingale; yea, and the sun's warm kiss.
+ Midst the Lemur's dread,
+ And the ghostly dead,
+ Now withers my life's young blossom.
+
+ "I am fast in the yoke of marriage bound
+ To this cursèd rat-hole underground.
+ Through my window at night,
+ Peers each ghostly sprite,
+ And the Styx murmurs lower and lower.
+
+ "To-day I have Charon invited to dinner,
+ He is bald, and his limbs they grow thinner and thinner,
+ And the judges, beside,
+ Of the dead, dismal-eyed,
+ In such company I shall grow sour."
+
+
+III.
+
+ Whilst their grievance each is venting
+ In the underworld below,
+ Ceres, on the earth lamenting,
+ Wrathful wanders to and fro.
+
+ With no hood in sloven fashion,
+ Neither mantle o'er her gown,
+ She declaims that lamentation
+ Unto all of us well-known;
+
+ "Is the blessed spring-tide here?
+ Has the earth again grown young?
+ Green the sunny hills appear,
+ And the icy band is sprung.
+
+ "Mirrored from the clear blue river.
+ Zeus, unclouded, laugheth out,
+ Softer zephyr's wings now quiver,
+ Buds upon the fresh twig sprout."
+
+ In the hedge a new refrain;
+ Call the Oreads from the shore,
+ "All thy flowers come again,
+ But thy daughter comes no more."
+
+ Ah, how many weary days
+ I have sought o'er wide earth's space.
+ Titan, all thy sunny rays
+ I have sent on her dear trace.
+
+ Yet not one renews assurance
+ Of the darling face I wot,
+ Day, that finds all things, the durance
+ Of my lost one, findeth not.
+
+ "Hast thou ravished, Zeus, my daughter?
+ Or, love-smitten by her charms,
+ Hath, o'er Orcus's night-black water,
+ Pluto snatched her in his arms?
+
+ "Who towards that gloomy strand
+ Herald of my grief will be?
+ Ever floats the bark from land,
+ Bearing phantoms ceaselessly.
+
+ "Closed those shadowy fields are ever
+ Unto any blessèd sight.
+ Since the Styx hath been a river,
+ It hath borne no living wight.
+
+ "There are thousand stairs descending,
+ But not one leads upward there.
+ To her tears no token lending,
+ At the anxious mother's prayer."
+
+
+IV.
+
+ Oh, my mother-in-law, Ceres,
+ Cease thy cries, no longer mourn.
+ I will grant thee, what so dear is,
+ I myself so much have borne.
+
+ Take thou comfort. We will fairly
+ Thy child's ownership divide;
+ And for six moons shall she yearly
+ In the upper world abide.
+
+ Help thee through long summer hours
+ In thy husbandry affairs;
+ Binding up for thee the flowers,
+ While a new straw-hat she wears.
+
+ She will dream when twilight pleasant
+ Colors all the sky with rose;
+ When by brooks some clownish peasant
+ Sweetly on his sheep's pipe blows.
+
+ Not a harvest dance without her,
+ She will frisk with Jack and Bess;
+ Midst the geese and calves about her
+ She will prove a lioness.
+
+ Hail, sweet rest! I breathe free, single,
+ Here in Orcus far from strife,
+ Punch with Lethe I will mingle,
+ And forget I have a wife.
+
+
+V.
+
+ At times thy glance appeareth to importune,
+ As though thou didst some secret longing prove.
+ Alas, too well I know it,--thy misfortune
+ A life frustrated, a frustrated love.
+
+ How sad thine eyes are! Yet have I no power
+ To give thee back thy youth with pleasure rife;
+ Incurably thy heart must ache each hour
+ For love frustrated and frustrated life.
+
+
+
+
+THE VALE OF TEARS.
+
+
+ The night wind through the crannies pipes,
+ And in the garret lie
+ Two wretched creatures on the straw,
+ As gaunt as poverty.
+
+ And one poor creature speaks and says,
+ "Embrace me with thine arm,
+ And press thy mouth against my mouth,
+ Thy breath will keep me warm."
+
+ The other starveling speaks and says,
+ "When I look into thine eyes
+ Pain, cold and hunger disappear,
+ And all my miseries."
+
+ They kissed full oft, still more they wept,
+ Clasped hands, sighed deep and fast;
+ They often laughed, they even sang,
+ And both were still at last.
+
+ With morning came the coroner,
+ And brought a worthy leech,
+ On either corpse to certify
+ The cause of death of each.
+
+ The nipping weather, he affirmed,
+ Had finished the deceased.
+ Their empty stomachs also caused,
+ Or hastened death at last.
+
+ He added that when frost sets in
+ 'Tis needful that the blood
+ Be warmed with flannels; one should have,
+ Moreover, wholesome food.
+
+
+
+
+SOLOMON.
+
+
+ Dumb are the trumpets, cymbals, drums and shawms to-night,
+ The angel shapes engirdled with the sword,
+ About the royal tent keep watch and ward,
+ Six thousand to the left, six thousand to the right.
+
+ They guard the king from evil dreams, from death.
+ Behold! a frown across his brow they view.
+ Then all at once, like glimmering flames steel-blue,
+ Twelve thousand brandished swords leap from the sheath.
+
+ But back into their scabbards drop the swords
+ Of the angelic host; the midnight pain
+ Hath vanished, the king's brow is smooth again;
+ And hark! the royal sleeper's murmured words:
+
+ "O Shulamite, the lord of all these lands am I,
+ This empire is the heritage I bring,
+ For I am Judah's king and Israel's king;
+ But if thou love me not, I languish and I die."
+
+
+
+
+MORPHINE.
+
+
+ Marked is the likeness 'twixt the beautiful
+ And youthful brothers, albeit one appear
+ Far paler than the other, more serene;
+ Yea, I might almost say, far comelier
+ Than his dear brother, who so lovingly
+ Embraced me in his arms. How tender, soft
+ Seemed then his smile, and how divine his glance!
+ No wonder that the wreath of poppy-flowers
+ About his head brought comfort to my brow,
+ And with its mystic fragrance soothed all pain
+ From out my soul. But such delicious balm
+ A little while could last. I can be cured
+ Completely only when that other youth,
+ The grave, pale brother, drops at last his torch.
+ Lo, sleep is good, better is death--in sooth
+ The best of all were never to be born.
+
+
+
+
+SONG.
+
+
+ Oft in galleries of art
+ Thou hast seen a knight perchance,
+ Eager for the wars to start,
+ Well-equipped with shield and lance.
+
+ Him the frolic loves have found,
+ Robbed him of his sword and spear,
+ And with chains of flowers have bound
+ Their unwilling chevalier.
+
+ Held by such sweet hindrances,
+ Wreathed with bliss and pain, I stay,
+ While my comrades in the press
+ Wage the battle of the day.
+
+
+
+
+SONG.
+
+
+ Night lay upon my eyelids,
+ About my lips earth clave;
+ With stony heart and forehead
+ I lay within my grave.
+
+ How long I cannot reckon,
+ I slept in that strait bed;
+ I woke and heard distinctly
+ A knocking overhead.
+
+ "Wilt thou not rise, my Henry?
+ The eternal dawn is here;
+ The dead have re-arisen,
+ Immortal bliss is near."
+
+ "I cannot rise, my darling,
+ I am blinded to the day.
+ Mine eyes with tears, thou knowest,
+ Have wept themselves away."
+
+ "Oh, I will kiss them, Henry,
+ Kiss from thine eyes the night.
+ Thou shalt behold the angels
+ And the celestial light."
+
+ "I cannot rise, my darling,
+ My blood is still outpoured
+ Where thou didst wound my heart once
+ With sharp and cruel word."
+
+ "I'll lay my hand, dear Henry,
+ Upon thy heart again.
+ Then shall it cease from bleeding.
+ And stilled shall be its pain."
+
+ "I cannot rise, my darling,
+ My head is bleeding--see!
+ I shot myself, thou knowest,
+ When thou wast reft from me."
+
+ "Oh, with my hair, dear Henry,
+ I'll staunch the cruel wound,
+ And press the blood-stream backward;
+ Thou shalt be whole and sound."
+
+ So kind, so sweet she wooed me,
+ I could not say her nay;
+ I tried to rise and follow,
+ And clasp my loving may.
+
+ Then all my wounds burst open,
+ From head and breast outbreak
+ The gushing blood in torrents--
+ And lo, I am awake!
+
+
+
+
+SONG.
+
+
+ Death comes, and now must I make known
+ That which my pride eternally
+ Prayed to withhold; for thee, for thee,
+ My heart has throbbed for thee alone.
+
+ The coffin waits! within my grave
+ They drop me soon, where I shall rest.
+ But thou, Marie, shalt beat thy breast,
+ And think of me, and weep and rave.
+
+ And thou shalt wring thy hands, my friend.
+ Be comforted! it is our fate,
+ Our human fate, the good and great
+ And fair must have an evil end.
+
+
+
+
+HOMEWARD BOUND.
+
+1823-1824.
+
+
+
+
+ TO
+ FREDERIKA VARNHAGEN VON ENSE,
+
+ THE SONGS OF
+ HOMEWARD BOUND
+ ARE DEDICATED IN JOYFUL HOMAGE BY THE AUTHOR
+ HEINRICH HEINE.
+
+
+
+
+HOMEWARD BOUND.
+
+
+I.
+
+ In my life, too full of shadows,
+ Beamed a lovely vision bright.
+ Now the lovely vision's vanished,
+ I am girt about by night.
+
+ Little children in the darkness
+ Feel uneasy fears erelong,
+ And, to chase away their terrors,
+ They will sing aloud a song.
+
+ I, a foolish child, am singing
+ Likewise in the dark apart.
+ If my homely lay lack sweetness,
+ Yet it cheers my anxious heart.
+
+
+II.
+
+ I know not what spell is o'er me,
+ That I am so sad to day;
+ An old myth floats before me--
+ I cannot chase it away.
+
+ The cool air darkens, and listen,
+ How softly flows the Rhine!
+ The mountain peaks still glisten
+ Where the evening sunbeams shine.
+
+ The fairest maid sits dreaming
+ In radiant beauty there.
+ Her gold and her jewels are gleaming.
+ She combeth her golden hair.
+
+ With a golden comb she is combing;
+ A wondrous song sings she.
+ The music quaint in the gleaming,
+ Hath a powerful melody.
+
+ It thrills with a passionate yearning
+ The boatman below in the night.
+ He heeds not the rocky reef's warning,
+ He gazes alone on the height.
+
+ I think that the waters swallowed
+ The boat and the boatman anon.
+ And this, with her singing unhallowed,
+ The Lorelei hath done.
+
+
+III.
+
+ My heart, my heart is heavy,
+ Though merrily glows the May.
+ Out on the ancient bastion,
+ Under the lindens, I stay.
+
+ Below me the calm blue waters
+ Of the quiet town-moat shine;
+ A boy in his boat rows past me,
+ He whistles and drops his line.
+
+ And yonder the cheerful colors,
+ And tiny figures, one sees,
+ Of people, and villas, and gardens,
+ And cattle, and meadows, and trees.
+
+ Young women are bleaching linen;
+ They leap in the grass anear.
+ The mill-wheel rains showers of diamonds,
+ Its far away buzz I hear.
+
+ Above on the gray old tower
+ Stands the sentry house of the town,
+ And a scarlet-coated fellow
+ Goes pacing up and down.
+
+ He toys with his shining musket
+ That gleams in the sunset red,
+ Presenting and shouldering arms now--
+ I wish he would shoot me dead.
+
+
+IV.
+
+ In tears through the woods I wander.
+ The thrush is perched on the bough:
+ She springs and sings up yonder--
+ "Oh, why so sad art thou?"
+
+ The swallows, thy sisters, are able
+ My dear, to answer thee.
+ They built clever nests in the gable,
+ Where sweetheart's windows be.
+
+
+V.
+
+ The night is wet and stormy,
+ And void of stars the sky;
+ 'Neath the rustling trees of the forest
+ I wander silently.
+
+ There flickers a lonely candle
+ In the huntsman's lodge to-night.
+ It shall not tempt me thither;
+ It burns with a sullen light.
+
+ There sits the blind old granny,
+ In the leathern arm-chair tall,
+ Like a statue, stiff, uncanny
+ And speaketh not at all.
+
+ And to and fro strides, cursing,
+ The ranger's red haired son,
+ With angry, scornful laughter
+ Flings to the wall his gun.
+
+ The beautiful spinner weepeth,
+ And moistens with tears her thread.
+ At her feet her father's pointer,
+ Whimpering, crouches his head.
+
+
+VI.
+
+ When I met by chance in my travels
+ All my sweetheart's family,
+ Papa, mamma, little sister
+ Most cordially greeted me.
+
+ About my health they inquired;
+ Nor even did they fail
+ To say I was nowise altered,
+ Only a trifle pale.
+
+ I asked after aunts and cousins,
+ And many a dull old bore.
+ And after the dear little poodle,
+ That barked so softly of yore.
+
+ And how was my married sweetheart?
+ I asked them soon. They smiled,
+ And in friendliest tone made answer
+ She was soon to have a child.
+
+ And I lisped congratulations,
+ And begged, when they should see,
+ To give her the kindest greetings,
+ A thousand times for me.
+
+ Burst forth the baby-sister,
+ "That dear little dog of mine
+ Went mad when he grew bigger,
+ And we drowned him in the Rhine."
+
+ The child resembles my sweetheart,
+ The same old laugh has she;
+ Her eyes are the same ones over,
+ That wrought such grief for me.
+
+
+VII.
+
+ We sat in the fisher's cabin,
+ Looking out upon the sea.
+ Then came the mists of evening,
+ Ascending silently.
+
+ The lights began in the lighthouse
+ One after one to burn,
+ And on the far horizon
+ A ship we could still discern.
+
+ We spake of storm and shipwreck,
+ The sailor and how he thrives,
+ And how betwixt heaven and ocean,
+ And joy and sorrow he strives.
+
+ We spake of distant countries,
+ South, North, and everywhere,
+ And of the curious people,
+ And curious customs there;
+
+ The fragrance and light of the Ganges,
+ That giant-trees embower,
+ Where a beautiful tranquil people
+ Kneel to the lotus flower;
+
+ Of the unclean folk in Lapland,
+ Broad-mouthed and flat-headed and small,
+ Who cower upon the hearthstone,
+ Bake fish, and cackle and squall.
+
+ The maidens listened gravely,
+ Then never a word was said,
+ The ship we could see no longer;
+ It was far too dark o'erhead.
+
+
+VIII.
+
+ Thou fairest fisher maiden,
+ Row thy boat to the land.
+ Come here and sit beside me,
+ Whispering, hand in hand.
+
+ Lay thy head on my bosom,
+ And have no fear of me;
+ For carelessly thou trustest
+ Daily the savage sea.
+
+ My heart is like the ocean,
+ With storm and ebb and flow,
+ And many a pearl lies hidden
+ Within its depths below.
+
+
+IX.
+
+ The moon is up, and brightly
+ Beams o'er the waters vast.
+ I clasp my darling tightly;
+ Our hearts are beating fast.
+
+ In the dear child's bosom, nestling,
+ Alone I lie on the sand.
+ "Hear'st thou the wild winds rustling?
+ Why trembles thy foam-white hand?"
+
+ "That is no wild wind sighing,
+ That is the mermaid's lay;
+ And they are my sisters crying,
+ Whom the sea swallowed one day."
+
+
+X.
+
+ Up amidst the clouds, the moon,
+ Like a giant orange, beams,
+ O'er the gray sea shining down,
+ With broad stripes and golden gleams.
+
+ And I pace the shore alone,
+ Where the billows white are broken.
+ Many a tender word I hear,
+ Words within the water spoken.
+
+ Ah, the night is far too long,
+ And my heart throbs fast for pleasure.
+ Beautiful undines, come forth!
+ Sing and dance your magic measure.
+
+ Take my body and my soul:
+ On your lap my head shall rest.
+ Sing to death, caress to death;
+ Kiss the life from out my breast.
+
+
+XI.
+
+ All in gray clouds closely muffled,
+ Now the high gods sleep together,
+ And I listen to their snoring.
+ Here below 'tis stormy weather.
+
+ Stormy weather, raging tempest
+ Soon the helpless vessel shatters.
+ Who these furious winds can bridle?
+ Who can curb the lordless waters?
+
+ I can ne'er control the tempest,
+ Over deck and masthead sweeping;
+ I will wrap me in my mantle,
+ And will sleep as gods are sleeping.
+
+
+XII.
+
+ The night wind draws his trousers on,--
+ His foam-white hose once more;
+ He wildly whips the waves anon,
+ They howl, and rage, and roar.
+
+ From yon dark height, with frantic might,
+ The rain pours ceaselessly.
+ It seems as if the ancient night
+ Would drown the ancient sea.
+
+ Anigh the mast the sea-mew screams,
+ With hoarse shrieks, flying low.
+ Its every cry an omen seems,
+ A prophecy of woe.
+
+
+XIII.
+
+ The storm for a dance is piping,
+ With bellow and roar and hiss.
+ Hurrah! how the ship is tossing,
+ What a merry wild night is this!
+
+ A living mountain of water
+ The sea upheaves with might.
+ Here an abyss is yawning;
+ There towers a foaming height.
+
+ And sounds of retching and curses
+ Forth from the cabin come;
+ And I, to the mast close clinging,
+ Long to be safe at home.
+
+
+XIV.
+
+ The evening shades are falling,
+ The sea-fog spreads with night.
+ Mysterious waters are calling,
+ There rises something white.
+
+ The mermaid comes from the ocean,
+ Beside me sitting down;
+ Her white breast's breathing motion,
+ I see through the gossamer gown.
+
+ And she doth clasp and hold me,
+ In passionate, painful way.
+ Too close thou dost enfold me,
+ Thou lovely water fay!
+
+ "Within mine arms I hide thee,
+ With all my strength enfold,
+ I warm myself beside thee,
+ The night is far too cold."
+
+ Paler the moon is growing
+ Through shadowy vapors gray.
+ Thine eyes with tears are flowing,
+ Thou lovely water fay!
+
+ "With tears they are not flowing.
+ As I from waves did rise,
+ Forth from the ocean going,
+ A drop fell in mine eyes."
+
+ The sea-mews moan, entreating,
+ What does the mad surf say?
+ Thy heart is wildly beating,
+ Thou lovely water fay.
+
+ "My heart is beating sadly
+ And wild as ever it can,
+ Because I love thee madly,
+ Thou lovely son of man."
+
+
+XV.
+
+ When I before thy dwelling,
+ In early morning pace,
+ How gladly in the window
+ I see thy gentle face.
+
+ Thy brown-black eyes in pity,
+ Mine own eyes, wistful scan,
+ "Who art thou, and what lack'st thou,
+ Thou strange, unhappy man?"
+
+ I am a German poet,
+ Of goodly German fame,
+ When their best names are spoken,
+ Mine own they are sure to name.
+
+ And what I lack, sweet maiden,
+ Most Germans lack the same.
+ When men name sharpest sorrows,
+ Mine own they are sure to name.
+
+
+XVI.
+
+ The sea outspreading glorious,
+ In the dying sunbeams shone.
+ We sat by the lonely fisher's house,
+ We sat there mute and alone.
+
+ The waters swell, the mists arise,
+ The sea-mew flutters past,
+ And then from out thy loving eyes
+ The tears come flowing fast.
+
+ I see them falling on thy hand.
+ Upon my knees I sink,
+ And from the hollow of thy hand
+ The burning tears I drink.
+
+ Since then strange flames my flesh devour,
+ My spent soul disappears,
+ The wretched woman in that hour
+ Poisoned me with her tears.
+
+
+XVII.
+
+ Up yonder on the mountain,
+ There stands a castle tall;
+ There dwelt three beauteous maidens,
+ And I was loved by all.
+
+ On Saturday Hetty kissed me,
+ And Sunday was Julia's day;
+ On Monday Kunigunda
+ Nigh hugged my breath away.
+
+ On Tuesday, in the castle,
+ My maidens gave a ball.
+ The neighboring lords and ladies
+ Came riding one and all.
+
+ But I was not invited.
+ Amazed they all appeared;
+ The gossiping aunts and cousins
+ Remarked the fact, and sneered.
+
+
+XVIII.
+
+ Upon the far horizon
+ Like a picture of the mist,
+ Appears the towered city
+ By the twilight shadows kissed.
+
+ The moist, soft breezes ripple
+ Our boat's wake gray and dark,
+ With mournful measured cadence
+ The boatman rows my bark.
+
+ The sun from clouds outshining,
+ Lights up once more the coast.
+ The very spot it shows me
+ Where she I loved was lost.
+
+
+XIX.
+
+ All hail to thee, thou fairest
+ And most mysterious town!
+ That once inclosed my dearest
+ Within thy gateways brown.
+
+ Speak out, ye towers and portals!
+ My sweetheart, where is she?
+ I left her in your keeping;
+ Ye should my warders be.
+
+ The towers are not guilty,
+ For rooted fast were they.
+ When sweetheart, with trunks and luggage,
+ So quickly stole away.
+
+ The gates gave willing passage,
+ With noiseless bars and locks.
+ A door will always open,
+ When the adorer knocks.
+
+
+XX.
+
+ I tread the dear familiar path,
+ The old road I have taken;
+ I stand before my darling's house,
+ Now empty and forsaken.
+
+ Oh far too narrow is the street,
+ The roofs seem tottering downward.
+ The very pavement burns my feet;
+ I hurry faster onward.
+
+
+XXI.
+
+ Here to her vows I listened,
+ I tread the empty halls,
+ And where her tear-drops glistened,
+ The poisoned serpent crawls.
+
+
+XXII.
+
+ The quiet night broods over roof-tree and steeple;
+ Within this house dwelt my treasure rare.
+ 'Tis long since I left the town and its people,
+ But the house stands still on the self-same square.
+
+ Here stands, too, a man; toward heaven he gazes,
+ And he wrings his hands with a wild despair.
+ I shudder with awe when his face he raises,
+ For the moonlight shows me mine own self there.
+
+ Oh, pale sad creature! my ghost, my double,
+ Why dost thou ape my passion and tears,
+ That haunted me here with such cruel trouble,
+ So many a night in the olden years?
+
+
+XXIII.
+
+ How can'st thou slumber calmly,
+ Whilst I alive remain?
+ My olden wrath returneth,
+ And then I snap my chain.
+
+ Know'st thou the ancient ballad
+ Of that dead lover brave,
+ Who rose and dragged his lady
+ At midnight to his grave?
+
+ Believe me, I am living;
+ And I am stronger far,
+ Most pure, most radiant maiden,
+ Than all the dead men are.
+
+
+XXIV.
+
+ The maiden sleeps in her chamber,
+ Where the trembling moonbeams glance,
+ Without there singeth and ringeth
+ The melody of a dance.
+
+ "I will look just once from the window,
+ To see who breaks my rest."
+ A skeleton fiddles before her,
+ And sings like one possessed.
+
+ "To dance with me you promised,
+ And you have broken your vow.
+ To-night is a ball in the churchyard,
+ Come out and dance with me now."
+
+ The music bewitches the maiden;
+ Forth from her home doth she go;
+ She follows the bony fiddler,
+ Who sings as he scrapes his bow.
+
+ He fiddles, and hops and dances,
+ And rattles his bones as he plays;
+ His skull nods grimly and strangely,
+ In the clear moonlight's rays.
+
+
+XXV.
+
+ I gazed upon her portrait,
+ While dark dreams filled my brain,
+ And those beloved features
+ Began to breathe again.
+
+ I saw upon her lips then
+ A wondrous smile arise,
+ And as with tears of pity
+ Glistened once more her eyes.
+
+ Adown my cheeks in silence,
+ The tears came flowing free.
+ And oh! I cannot believe it,
+ That thou art lost to me!
+
+
+XXVI.
+
+ I, a most wretched Atlas, the huge world,
+ The whole huge world of sorrow I must carry.
+ Yea, the unbearable must bear, though meanwhile
+ My heart break in my bosom.
+
+ Thou haughty heart, thyself hast willed it thus,
+ Thou would'st be happy, infinitely happy,
+ Or infinitely wretched, haughty heart!
+ And lo! now art thou wretched.
+
+
+XXVII.
+
+ The years are coming and going,
+ Whole races are home to their rest;
+ But never ceases the passion
+ That burns within my breast.
+
+ Only once more I would see thee,
+ And make thee a low salaam,
+ And with my dying breath, murmur:
+ "I love you still, Madame!"
+
+
+XXVIII.
+
+ I dreamed that the moon looked sadly down,
+ And the stars with a troubled ray;
+ I went to my sweetheart's home--the town
+ Lies many a league away.
+
+ My longing led me before her door;
+ I kissed the stone steps brown,
+ That her feet had touched in the days of yore,
+ And the trailing hem of her gown.
+
+ The night was long, the night was cold,
+ Ice-cold did the stone steps seem.
+ In the window her own wan face, behold!
+ Illumed by the moon's pale beam.
+
+
+XXIX.
+
+ What means this lonely tear-drop
+ That blurs my troubled sight,
+ From olden times returning
+ Back to mine eyes to-night?
+
+ Its many glimmering sisters
+ Are vanished long ago,
+ In the night and the wind they vanished
+ With all my joy and my woe.
+
+ And like the mists of evening
+ Did those blue stars depart,
+ That smiled all joys and sorrows
+ Into my trusting heart.
+
+ Alas! my love, too, melted
+ Like idle breath one day;
+ Oh lingering, lonely tear-drop,
+ Thou also fade away!
+
+
+XXX.
+
+ The pale half-moon of autumn
+ Through clouds peers doubtfully.
+ Within the lonely churchyard
+ The parsonage I see.
+
+ The mother reads in her Bible,
+ The son at the light doth gaze;
+ One drowsy daughter is nodding,
+ While another speaks and says:
+
+ "Ah me! how dreary the days are!
+ How dull, and dark, and mean!
+ Only when there's a funeral
+ Is anything to be seen."
+
+ The mother looks from her Bible:
+ "Nay, only four in all
+ Have died since thy father was buried
+ Without by the churchyard wall."
+
+ Then yawns the eldest daughter,
+ "I will starve no longer here;
+ I will go to the Count to-morrow,
+ He is rich, and he loves me dear."
+
+ The son bursts out a-laughing:
+ "At the 'Star' three huntsmen drink deep;
+ They are making gold, and they promise
+ To give me their secret to keep."
+
+ Toward his lean face, flings the mother
+ Her Bible, in wrath and grief.
+ "Out! God-forsaken beggar,
+ Thou wilt be a common thief!"
+
+ They hear a tap on the window,
+ And behold a beckoning hand.
+ There in his sable vestments
+ They see the dead father stand.
+
+
+XXXI.
+
+ To-night is wretched weather,
+ It snows, and storms, and rains;
+ Out in the pitch-black darkness
+ I gaze through the window-panes.
+
+ There flickers a lonely candle,
+ Slow winding down the street;
+ And a beldame, with her lantern,
+ Goes hobbling on in the sleet.
+
+ I think 'tis for eggs and butter
+ That she braves this weather wild,
+ To bake a cake for her daughter,
+ Her grown-up ailing child.
+
+ Who lies at home in her arm-chair,
+ And sleepily blinks at the light.
+ Over her beautiful forehead
+ Her golden curls wave bright.
+
+
+XXXII.
+
+ They think my heart is breaking,
+ In sorrow's bitter yoke,
+ I too begin to think it,
+ As well as other folk.
+
+ Thou large-eyed little darling,
+ Do I not always say
+ I love thee past all telling--
+ Love gnaws my heart away?
+
+ But only in my chamber
+ I dare express my pain;
+ For always in thy presence
+ Quite silent I remain.
+
+ For there were evil angels
+ Who sealed my lips so close.
+ And oh! from evil angels
+ Sprang all my wretched woes.
+
+
+XXXIII.
+
+ Ah, those pure white lily fingers,
+ Once again could I but kiss them,
+ Press them close against my heart,
+ Melt away in silent weeping!
+
+ Oh, those clearest eyes of violet
+ Hover day and night before me,
+ And I ponder o'er the meaning
+ Of those lovely blue enigmas.
+
+
+XXXIV.
+
+ "Did she ne'er express compassion
+ For thy tender situation?
+ Could'st thou never in her glances
+ Read thy love's reciprocation?
+
+ "Could'st thou ne'er surprise the spirit
+ In her bright eyes unawares?
+ Yet thou surely art no donkey,
+ Dearest friend, in these affairs!"
+
+
+XXXV.
+
+ They loved one another, but neither
+ Confessed a word thereof.
+ They met with coldest glances,
+ Though pining away with love.
+
+ At last they parted; their spirits
+ Met but in visions rare.
+ They are long since dead and buried,
+ Though scarcely themselves aware.
+
+
+XXXVI.
+
+ And when I lamented my cruel lot,
+ You yawned in my face and you answered not.
+ But now that I set it in daintiest rhyme,
+ You flourish my trumpet all the time.
+
+
+XXXVII.
+
+ I called the devil and he came,
+ His face with wonder I must scan;
+ He is not ugly, he is not lame,
+ He is a delightful, charming man.
+ A man in the prime of life, in fact,
+ Courteous, engaging and full of tact.
+ A diplomat, too, of wide research
+ Who cleverly talks about state and church.
+ A little pale, but that is _en règle_,
+ For now he is studying Sanscrit and Hegel.
+ His favorite poet is still Fouqué;
+ With the brawls of the critics he meddles no more,
+ For all such things he has given o'er,
+ Unto his grandmother Hecaté.
+ He praised my forensic works that he saw,
+ He had dabbled a little himself in law.
+ He said he was proud my acquaintance to make,
+ And should prize my friendship, and bowed as he spake.
+ And asked if we had not met before
+ At the house of the Spanish Ambassador?
+ Then I noted his features line by line,
+ And found him an old acquaintance of mine.
+
+
+XXXVIII.
+
+ Mortal, sneer not at the devil;
+ Life's a short and narrow way,
+ And perdition everlasting
+ Is no error of the day.
+
+ Mortal, pay thy debts precisely,
+ Life's a long and weary way;
+ And to-morrow thou must borrow,
+ As thou borrow'dst yesterday.
+
+
+XXXIX.
+
+ Three holy kings from the land of the West
+ Go asking whoso passes,
+ "Where is the road to Bethlehem,
+ Ye gentle lads and lasses?"
+
+ But neither young nor old can tell.
+ The kings fare patient onward,
+ They follow a golden star o'erhead,
+ That bright and kind shines downward.
+
+ The star stands still o'er Joseph's house,
+ Thither the pilgrims bringing;
+ The oxen low, the Infant cries,
+ The three wise kings are singing.
+
+
+XL.
+
+ My child, we two were children,
+ As lively as ever you saw,
+ We crept into the hencoop,
+ And we hid there beneath the straw.
+
+ And there, like cocks, crowed loudly,
+ While folk went passing by.
+ "Kickery-koo!" they fancied,
+ 'Twas really the cock's own cry.
+
+ The chests that lay in the courtyard,
+ With paper we overlaid.
+ Therein we lived together;
+ An excellent house we made.
+
+ The old cat of our neighbor
+ Would visit us at whiles;
+ We gave her bows and curtsies,
+ And compliments and smiles.
+
+ After her health we inquired
+ Gravely whenever she came.
+ To many an ancient Tabby
+ Since then we have done the same.
+
+ We talked like grown folks sagely,
+ And sat there oft and long,
+ Complaining how all had altered,
+ Since the days when we were young.
+
+ How love and faith and friendship
+ Had vanished, the world was bare;
+ How dear were tea and coffee,
+ And money had grown so rare!
+
+ Those childish games are over,
+ All things roll on with youth,--
+ Money, the world, and the seasons,
+ And faith and love and truth.
+
+
+XLI.
+
+ My heart is heavy; from the present
+ It yearns towards those old days again,
+ When still the world seemed fair and pleasant,
+ And men lived happy, free from pain.
+
+ Now all things seem at six and sevens,
+ A scramble and a constant dread;
+ Dead is the Lord God in the heavens,
+ Below us is the devil dead.
+
+ And all folks sad and mournful moving,
+ Wear such a cross, cold, anxious face;
+ Were there not still a little loving,
+ There would not be a resting place.
+
+
+XLII.
+
+ As the moon with splendor pierces
+ Through the dark cloud-veil of night,
+ From my darksome Past emerges
+ Once again a dream of light.
+
+ All upon the deck were seated,
+ Proudly sailing down the Rhine.
+ Green with June the shores were glowing
+ In the evening's sunset-shine.
+
+ At the feet of a fair lady
+ Sat I, full of thoughts untold,
+ O'er her pale and lovely features
+ Played the sunlight's ruddy gold.
+
+ Lutes were ringing, boys were singing,
+ Wondrous joy on stream and shore.
+ Blue and bluer grew the heavens,
+ And the spirit seemed to soar.
+
+ Hill and city, wood and meadow,
+ Glided past in fairy-wise.
+ And I saw the whole scene mirrored
+ In the lovely lady's eyes.
+
+
+XLIII.
+
+ In a dream I saw my sweetheart,
+ A woman harassed with care;
+ Faded, and haggard, and withered,
+ The form that had bloomed so fair.
+
+ One child in her arms she carried,
+ And one by the hand she led.
+ And trouble and poverty plainly
+ In her eyes and her raiment I read.
+
+ Across the square she tottered,
+ And face to face we stood.
+ She looked at me, and I spoke then
+ In quiet but mournful mood.
+
+ "Come home with me to my dwelling,
+ Thou art pale and ill, I think,
+ And there, with unceasing labor,
+ I will furnish thee meat and drink.
+
+ "And I will serve thee, and cherish
+ Thy children so wan and mild.
+ And thyself more dearly than any,
+ Thou poor, unhappy child.
+
+ "Nor will I vex thee by telling
+ The love that burns in my breast;
+ And I will weep when thou diest
+ Over thy place of rest."
+
+
+XLIV.
+
+ "Dearest friend, what may it profit
+ To repeat the old refrain?
+ Wilt thou, brooding still above it,
+ Sitting on love's egg remain!
+
+ Ah, it needs incessant watching;
+ From the shell the chicks have risen.
+ Clucking, they reward thy hatching,
+ And this book shall be their prison."
+
+
+XLV.
+
+ Only bear with me in patience,
+ If the notes of former wrongs
+ Many a time distinctly echo
+ In the latest of my songs.
+
+ Wait! the slow reverberation
+ Of my grief will soon depart,
+ And a spring of new song blossom
+ In my healed, reviving heart.
+
+
+XLVI.
+
+ 'Tis time that, more sober and serious grown,
+ From folly at last I break free.
+ I, who so long in comedian's gown,
+ Have played in the play with thee.
+
+ The scenes gaily painted were bright to behold,
+ And in ultra-romantic tints shone.
+ My knightly, rich mantle was spangled with gold;
+ Noblest feelings were ever mine own.
+
+ But now with grave trouble my thoughts are beset,
+ Although from the stage I depart;
+ And my heart is as wretchedly miserable yet,
+ As though I still acted my part.
+
+ Ah God! all unwitting and wholly in jest,
+ What I felt and I suffered I told.
+ I have fought against Death who abode in my breast
+ Like the dying wrestler of old.
+
+
+XLVII.
+
+ The great king Wiswamitra
+ In dire distress is now.
+ He seeks with strife and penance
+ To win Waschischta's cow.
+
+ Oh, great King Wiswamitra,
+ Oh what an ox art thou!
+ So much to struggle and suffer,
+ And only for a cow.
+
+
+XLVIII.
+
+ Heart, my heart, oh, be not shaken!
+ Bravely bear thy fate. Once more
+ Shall the coming Spring restore
+ What the Winter rude hath taken.
+
+ How abundant is thy measure!
+ Still, O world, how fair thou art!
+ And thou yet may'st love, my heart,
+ Everything that gives thee pleasure.
+
+
+XLIX.
+
+ Thou seemest like a flower,
+ So pure and fair and bright;
+ A melancholy yearning
+ Steals o'er me at thy sight.
+
+ I fain would lay in blessing
+ My hands upon thy hair,
+ Imploring God to keep thee,
+ So bright, and pure, and fair.
+
+
+L.
+
+ Child, I must be very careful,
+ For thy soul would surely perish,
+ If the loved heart in thy bosom
+ Love for me should ever cherish.
+
+ But the task proves all too easy,
+ Strange regrets begin to move me.
+ Meanwhile many a time I whisper:
+ "If I could but make her love me!"
+
+
+LI.
+
+ When on my couch reclining,
+ Buried in pillows and night,
+ There hovers then before me
+ A form of grace and light.
+
+ As soon as quiet slumber
+ Has closed my weary eyes,
+ Then softly does the image
+ Within my dream arise.
+
+ But with my dream at morning,
+ It never melts away;
+ For in my heart I bear it
+ Through all the livelong day.
+
+
+LII.
+
+ Maiden with the lips of scarlet,
+ Clearest, sweetest eyes that be,
+ O my darling little maiden,
+ Ever do I think of thee!
+
+ Dreary is the winter evening:
+ Would that I were in thy home,
+ Sitting by thee, calmly chatting,
+ In the cosy little room.
+
+ And upon my lips, my darling,
+ I would press thy small white hand.
+ I would press and I would moisten
+ With my tears thy small, white hand.
+
+
+LIII.
+
+ Let the snow without be piled,
+ Let the howling storm rage wild,
+ Beating o'er the window-pane,--
+ I will never more complain,
+ For within my heart bide warm
+ Spring-tide joy and sweetheart's form.
+
+
+LIV.
+
+ Some to Mary bend the knee,
+ Others unto Paul and Peter,
+ I, however, I will worship,
+ Sun of beauty, only thee.
+
+ Kiss me, love me, dearest one,
+ Be thou gracious, show me favor,
+ Fairest sun among all maidens,
+ Fairest maiden under the sun.
+
+
+LV.
+
+ Did not my pallid cheek betray
+ My love's unhappy fate?
+ And wilt thou force my haughty lips
+ To beg and supplicate?
+
+ Oh far too haughty are these lips,
+ They can but kiss and jest.
+ They speak perchance a scornful word,
+ While my heart breaks in my breast.
+
+
+LVI.
+
+ Dearest friend, thou art in love,
+ Tortured with new woes thou art;
+ Darker grows it in thy brain,
+ Lighter grows it in thy heart.
+
+ Dearest friend, thou art in love,
+ Though thou hast not yet confessed.
+ I can see thy flaming heart
+ Burn already through thy vest.
+
+
+LVII.
+
+ I fain by thee would tarry,
+ To rest there and to woo;
+ But thou away must hurry,
+ Thou hadst too much to do.
+
+ I told thee that my spirit
+ Was wholly bound to thee,
+ And thou didst laugh to hear it,
+ And curtsy low to me.
+
+ Yea, thou did'st much misuse me,
+ In all my love's distress,
+ And even didst refuse me
+ At last the parting kiss.
+
+ I will not for thy glory
+ Go drown, when all is o'er;
+ My dear, this same old story
+ Befell me once before.
+
+
+LVIII.
+
+ Sapphires are those eyes of thine,
+ So lovely and so sweet,
+ Thrice blessed is the happy man
+ Whom they with love will greet.
+
+ Thy heart, it is a diamond,
+ That sheds a splendid light.
+ Thrice blessed is the happy man
+ For whom it glows so bright.
+
+ As red as rubies are thy lips,
+ Naught fairer can I prove.
+ Thrice blessed is the happy man
+ To whom they whisper love.
+
+ Oh, knew I but that happy man,
+ Could I at last discover,
+ Deep in the greenwood, all alone--
+ His bliss were quickly over.
+
+
+LIX.
+
+ Lovers' vows, wherefrom thou turnest,
+ Bound me closely to thy heart,
+ Now my jest grows sober earnest,
+ I am pierced by mine own dart.
+
+ Laughingly thou stand'st before me--
+ If thou leave me in my need,
+ All the powers of hell come o'er me,
+ I shall shoot myself indeed.
+
+
+LX.
+
+ Our life and the world have too fragment-like grown;
+ To the German Professor I'll hie me anon
+ Who sets in straight order all things overhurled.
+ He will draw up a sensible system, I think,
+ With his nightcap and nightgown he'll stop every chink
+ In this tumble-down edifice known as the world.
+
+
+LXI.
+
+ Long through my racked and weary brain
+ Did endless thoughts and dreams revolve;
+ But now thy lovely eyes, my dear,
+ Have brought me to a firm resolve.
+
+ Within their radiance wise and kind,
+ Where'er thine eyes shine, I remain.
+ I could not have believed it true
+ That I should ever love again.
+
+
+LXII.
+
+ To-night they give a party,
+ The house is all a-glow.
+ Above, in the lighted window,
+ Moves a shadow to and fro.
+
+ Thou see'st me not in the darkness,
+ I stand below, apart.
+ Still less, my dear, thou seeest
+ Within my gloomy heart.
+
+ My gloomy heart it loves thee;
+ It breaks for love of thee,
+ It breaks, and yearns, and bleedeth,
+ Only thou wilt not see.
+
+
+LXIII.
+
+ I fain would outpour all my sorrows
+ In a single word to-day.
+ To the merry winds I would trust it,
+ They would merrily bear it away.
+
+ They would bear it to thee, my darling,
+ The word of sorrowful grace.
+ Thou should'st hear it at every hour,
+ Thou shouldst hear it in every place.
+
+ And scarce in the midnight darkness
+ Shouldst thou close thine eyes in sleep,
+ Ere my whispered word, it would follow,
+ Though thy dream were ever so deep.
+
+
+LXIV.
+
+ Thou hast diamonds, and pearls and jewels,
+ All thy heart covets in store,
+ And the loveliest eyes under heaven--
+ My darling, what wouldst thou more?
+
+ Upon thine eyes, so lovely,
+ Have I written o'er and o'er
+ Immortal songs and sonnets--
+ My darling, what wouldst thou more?
+
+ And with thine eyes so lovely
+ Thou hast stung me to the core,
+ And hast compassed my undoing--
+ My darling, what wouldst thou more?
+
+
+LXV.
+
+ He who for the first time loves,
+ E'en rejected, is a god.
+ He who loves a second time,
+ Unrequited, is a fool.
+
+ Such a fool am I, in loving
+ Once again with no return.
+ Sun and moon and stars are laughing;
+ I am laughing too--and dying.
+
+
+LXVI.
+
+ They gave me advice, they counseled sense,
+ They overpowered with compliments.
+ Patience! they said, and in my need
+ They'd prove themselves my friends indeed.
+
+ Despite their promise to help and protect,
+ I surely had perished of sheer neglect,
+ Had there not come a worthy man,
+ Who bravely to help me now began.
+
+ Oh, the worthy man! he gave me to eat;
+ Such kindness as his I shall never forget.
+ I long to embrace him, but never can,
+ For I am myself this excellent man.
+
+
+LXVII.
+
+ This most amiable of fellows
+ Ne'er enough can honored be.
+ Ah! to oysters, Rhine-wine, cordial,
+ Many a time he treated me.
+
+ Natty are his hose and trousers,
+ Nattier his cravat is seen;
+ And he enters every morning,
+ Asks me how my health has been.
+
+ Of my rich renown he speaketh,
+ Of my charms and wit displayed.
+ Zealous, eager seems he ever
+ To befriend me and to aid.
+
+ And at parties in the evening,
+ With inspired brow and eye,
+ He declaims before the ladies
+ My immortal poesy.
+
+ How delightfully refreshing
+ Now-a-days to find still here
+ Such a youth, when good things surely
+ More and more do disappear.
+
+
+LXVIII.
+
+ I dreamt I was Almighty God,
+ And sat within the sky,
+ And angels sat on either side,
+ And praised my poetry.
+
+ And sweets and pasties there I ate,
+ And drank the best Tokay,
+ Worth many a precious florin bright,
+ Yet had no bill to pay.
+
+ No less was I nigh bored to death,
+ And longed for earth and evil,
+ And were I not Almighty God,
+ I fain had been the devil.
+
+ "Thou long-legged angel Gabriel,
+ Make haste; begone from here!
+ And hither bring my friend Eugene,
+ The friend I love so dear.
+
+ "Within the college seek him not,
+ But where good wine inspires.
+ And seek him not in Hedwig Church,
+ But seek him at Miss Myers'."
+
+ Then spreading broad his mighty wings,
+ The angel doth descend,
+ And hastens off, and brings me back
+ Dear Bendel, my good friend.
+
+ Lo, youth, I am Almighty God!
+ The earth is my estate.
+ Did I not always promise thee
+ I should be something great?
+
+ And I accomplish miracles
+ That shall thy homage win.
+ To-day to please thee I shall bless
+ The city of Berlin.
+
+ Behold, the pavements of each street
+ Now wider, broader, grown!
+ And to an oyster, fresh and clear,
+ Transformed is every stone.
+
+ A shower of sweet lemonade
+ Pours down like dew divine.
+ And through the very gutters flows
+ The mellowest Rhine wine.
+
+ Oh, how the Berlinese rejoice!
+ They lush o'er such good fare.
+ The councillors and aldermen
+ Will drain the gutters bare.
+
+ The poets are in ecstasies
+ At such a feast divine.
+ The captains and the corporals
+ Lick up the streaming wine.
+
+ The captains and the corporals,
+ What clever men are they!
+ They think--such miracles as these
+ Occur not every day.
+
+
+LXIX.
+
+ I left you in the midmost of July,
+ To-day, my friends in winter I behold.
+ Then in the heat ye basked so warm and bright,
+ But now ye have grown cool, yea, even cold.
+
+ Soon I depart again, and come once more,
+ Then shall I find you neither warm nor cold.
+ And I shall moan lamenting o'er your graves,
+ And mine own heart shall then be poor and old.
+
+
+LXX.
+
+ Oh, to be chased from lovely lips! and torn
+ From lovely arms that clasped as in a dream.
+ I fain had stayed with thee another morn.
+ Then came the postboy with his tinkling team.
+
+ E'en such is life, my child, a constant moan--
+ A constant parting, evermore good-byes,
+ Could not thy heart cling fast unto mine own?
+ Couldst thou not hold me steadfast with thine eyes?
+
+
+LXXI.
+
+ All night, in the shadowy post-chaise,
+ We drove through the winter weather.
+ We slept on each other's bosoms,
+ We jested and laughed together.
+
+ But how were we both astonished,
+ When morning bade us stir,
+ Betwixt us two sat Cupid,
+ The blindfold passenger.
+
+
+LXXII.
+
+ Lord knows where the reckless creature
+ Chose her transient stopping-place!
+ Swearing through the rainy weather,
+ Everywhere I seek her trace.
+
+ I have been to every tavern
+ Running up and running down,
+ And of every surly waiter
+ Made inquiries in the town.
+
+ Lo, I see her in yon window!
+ And she beckons--all is well!
+ Could I guess that you had chosen,
+ Lady, such a grand hotel?
+
+
+LXXIII.
+
+ Like shadows black the houses
+ Uprise in long array.
+ Enveloped in my mantle
+ I hurry on my way.
+
+ The old cathedral-belfry
+ Chimes midnight grave and slow.
+ With all her charms and kisses
+ My love awaits me now.
+
+ The moon is my companion,
+ Kind-beaming from the sky
+ I reach the house beloved,
+ And joyously I cry--
+
+ "I thank thee, trusty servant,
+ That thou hast cheered my way.
+ And now, dear moon, I leave thee.
+ On others shed thy ray.
+
+ "And if a lonely lover
+ Who sings of grief, thou see,
+ Oh give him such sweet solace
+ As thou hast given me."
+
+
+LXXIV.
+
+ Wert thou, in sooth, mine honored wife,
+ Then shouldst thou envied be;
+ A merry pastime were thy life--
+ All pleasure, mirth, and glee.
+
+ And should'st thou scold, and rail and curse,
+ I'd meekly bear my fate;
+ But if thou do not praise my verse,
+ Then shall we separate.
+
+
+LXXV.
+
+ Upon thy snow-white shoulders
+ I lean my head at rest;
+ And secretly I hearken
+ To the yearning of thy breast.
+
+ In thy heart hussars blue-coated
+ Are riding and blowing their horn;
+ And my darling will surely desert me
+ With the earliest streak of morn.
+
+ And if thou desert me to-morrow,
+ None the less art thou mine to-day.
+ And within thine arms so lovely,
+ Still doubly blest I stay.
+
+
+LXXVI.
+
+ Hussars are blowing their trumpets,
+ And to thy doors they ride.
+ A garland of wreathed roses
+ I bring to thee, my bride.
+
+ That were a boisterous household,
+ Landpests and soldiery!
+ And in thy little heart, dear,
+ The goodliest quarters be.
+
+
+LXXVII.
+
+ I, too, in my youth did languish,
+ Suffered many a bitter anguish,
+ Burning in love's spell.
+ Now the price of fuel's higher,
+ And extinguished is the fire,
+ _Ma foi!_ and that is well.
+
+ Think of this, my youthful beauty,
+ Dry the stupid tears of duty,
+ Quell love's stupid, vague alarms.
+ Since thy life is not yet over,
+ Oh forget thy former lover,
+ _Ma foi!_ within mine arms.
+
+
+LXXVIII.
+
+ Dost thou hate me then so fiercely,
+ Hast thou really changed so blindly?
+ To the world I shall proclaim it,
+ Thou could'st treat me so unkindly.
+
+ Say, ungrateful lips, how can you
+ Breathe an evil word of scorning,
+ Of the very man who kissed you
+ So sincerely, yestermorning?
+
+
+LXXIX.
+
+ Yes, they are the self-same eyes
+ That still brighten as I greet her,
+ Yes, they are the self-same lips
+ That made all my life seem sweeter.
+
+ Yes, it is the very voice,
+ At whose slightest tones I faltered
+ But no more the same am I;
+ I wend homeward strangely altered.
+
+ By the fair white arms embraced
+ With a close and tender passion,
+ Now I lie upon her heart,
+ Dull of brain, in cold vexation.
+
+
+LXXX.
+
+ Ye could not understand mine ire
+ Nor I the tales that ye did tell,
+ But when we met within the mire,
+ We knew each other very well.
+
+
+LXXXI.
+
+ But the eunuchs still complained,
+ When I raised my voice to sing--
+ They complained and they maintained
+ That it had too harsh a ring.
+
+ And they raised with one accord
+ All their dainty voices clear,
+ Little crystal trills outpoured--
+ Oh, how pure and fine to hear!
+
+ And they sang of love so sweet,
+ Love's desire and love's full measure,
+ That the rare artistic treat
+ Made the ladies weep for pleasure.
+
+
+LXXXII.
+
+ On the walls of Salamanca
+ Gently sigh the breezes yonder.
+ Often with my gracious Donna,
+ There on summer eves I wander.
+
+ Round my beauty's slender girdle,
+ Tenderly mine arm enwreathing,
+ I can feel with blessed finger
+ Her proud bosom's haughty breathing.
+
+ But I hear an anxious whisper
+ Through the linden-branches coming,
+ And below, the somber mill-stream
+ Murmurs dreams of evil omen.
+
+ Ah, Señora, I foresee it!
+ I shall be expelled forever,
+ On the walls of Salamanca,
+ We again shall wander never!
+
+
+LXXXIII.
+
+ Next to me lives Don Henriquez,
+ He whom folk "the beauty" call;
+ Neighborly our rooms are parted
+ Only by a single wall.
+
+ Salamanca's ladies flutter
+ When he strides along the street,
+ Clinking spurs, mustachoes twirling,
+ And with hounds about his feet.
+
+ But in quiet hours of evening
+ He will sit at home apart,
+ His guitar between his fingers,
+ And sweet dreams within his heart.
+
+ Then he smites the chords with passion,
+ All at once begins to strum.
+ Ah, like squalling cats his scrapings,
+ Toll-de-roll and toodle-dum!
+
+
+LXXXIV.
+
+ We scarcely had met ere thy voice and thine eye
+ Assured me, my darling, that thou wast mine own;
+ And had not thy mother stood cruelly nigh,
+ I think I should really have kissed thee anon.
+
+ To-morrow again I depart from the town,
+ And hasten forth on my weary track,
+ From the window my yellow-haired lass peeps down,
+ And the friendliest greetings I waft her back.
+
+
+LXXXV.
+
+ Lo, on the mountains the sunbeams' first kiss!
+ The bells of the herd ring afar on the plain,
+ My darling, my lambkin, my sun and my bliss,
+ Oh, fain would I see thee and greet thee again!
+
+ I gaze on thy windows with curious eyes.
+ Farewell, dearest child, I must vanish for thee,
+ In vain! for the curtain moves not--there she lies,
+ There slumbers she still--and dreams about me?
+
+
+LXXXVI.
+
+ In Halle, near the market,
+ There stand two mighty lions.
+ Ah, lion-strength of Halle town,
+ How art thou tamed and broken!
+
+ In Halle, near the market,
+ There stands a mighty giant,
+ He holds a sword and he never moves,
+ He is petrified with terror.
+
+ In Halle, near the market,
+ A stately church is standing,
+ Where the _Burschenschaft_ and the _Landsmannschaft_
+ Have plenty of room to worship.
+
+
+LXXXVII.
+
+ Dusky summer-eve declineth
+ Over wood and verdant meadow,
+ Golden moon in azure heavens,
+ Wafting fragrance, softly shineth.
+
+ By the brook-side chirps the cricket,
+ Something stirs within the water,
+ And the wanderer hears a rustling,
+ Hears a breathing past the thicket.
+
+ In the streamlet, white and slender,
+ All alone the nymph is bathing,
+ Beautiful her arms and shoulders
+ Shimmer in the moonbeams' splendor.
+
+
+LXXXVIII.
+
+ Night enfolds these foreign meadows,
+ Sick heart, weary limbs caressing.
+ Ah, thy light athwart the shadows,
+ Moon, is like a quiet blessing!
+
+ Gentle moon, thy mild beams banish
+ Gloomy terrors where they hover.
+ All my woes dissolve and vanish,
+ And mine eyes with dew brim over.
+
+
+LXXXIX.
+
+ Death is like the balmy night,
+ Life is like the sultry day;
+ It is dark, and I am sleepy.
+ I am weary of the light.
+
+ O'er my couch a tree doth spring
+ In its boughs a nightingale
+ Sings of love, of naught but love,
+ In my dream I hear him sing.
+
+
+XC.
+
+ "Tell me where's your lovely maiden,
+ Whom you sang of erst so well,
+ As a flame that through your bosom
+ Pierced with rare, enchanted spell."
+
+ Ah, that flame is long extinguished!
+ And my heart is cold above.
+ And this little book the urn is
+ For the ashes of my love.
+
+
+
+
+SONGS TO SERAPHINE.
+
+
+
+
+SONGS TO SERAPHINE.
+
+
+I.
+
+ In the dreamy wood I wander,
+ In the wood at even-tide;
+ And thy slender, graceful figure
+ Wanders ever by my side.
+
+ Is not this thy white veil floating?
+ Is not that thy gentle face?
+ Is it but the moonlight breaking
+ Through the dark fir-branches' space?
+
+ Can these tears so softly flowing
+ Be my very own I hear?
+ Or indeed, art thou beside me,
+ Weeping, darling, close anear?
+
+
+II.
+
+ Over all the quiet sea-shore
+ Shadowing falls the hour of Hesper;
+ Through the clouds the moon is breaking,
+ And I hear the billows whisper.
+
+ "Can that man who wanders yonder
+ Be a lover or a dunce?
+ For he seems so sad and merry,
+ Sad and merry both at once."
+
+ But the laughing moon looks downward,
+ And she speaks, for she doth know it:
+ "Yes, he is both fool and lover,
+ And, to cap it all, a poet!"
+
+
+III.
+
+ Behold! 'tis a foam-white sea-mew
+ That flutters there on high.
+ Far over the black night-waters
+ The moon hangs up in the sky.
+
+ The shark and the roach dart forward
+ For breath as the breeze floats by.
+ The sea-mew poises and plunges,
+ The moon hangs up in the sky.
+
+ Oh, lovely transient spirit,
+ How heavy of heart am I!
+ Too near to thee is the water,
+ The moon hangs up in the sky.
+
+
+IV.
+
+ In moonlit splendor rests the sea,
+ The soft waves ripple along.
+ My heart beats low and heavily,
+ I think of the ancient song.
+
+ The ancient song that quaintly sings
+ Towns lost in olden times;
+ And how from the sea's abyss there rings
+ The sound of prayers and chimes.
+
+ But pious prayers and chimes, I ween,
+ Are offered all in vain.
+ For that which once hath buried been
+ May never come back again.
+
+
+V.
+
+ I knew that thou must love me--
+ 'Twas long ago made clear.
+ But thy confession filled me
+ With deep and secret fear.
+
+ I clambered up the mountain,
+ And sang aloud for glee.
+ Then while the sun was setting,
+ I wept beside the sea.
+
+ My heart is like the sun, dear,
+ Yon kindled flame above;
+ And sinks in large-orbed beauty
+ Within a sea of love.
+
+
+VI.
+
+ How enviously the sea-mew
+ Looks after us, my dear;
+ Because upon thy lips then
+ So close I pressed mine ear.
+
+ He fain would know what issued,
+ Most curious of birds!
+ If thou mine ear fulfillest
+ With kisses or with words.
+
+ What through my spirit hisses?
+ I, too, am sore perplexed!
+ Thy words, dear, and thy kisses
+ Are strangely intermixed.
+
+
+VII.
+
+ Shy as a fawn she passed me by;
+ And, fleet as any heifer,
+ She clambered on from cliff to cliff,
+ Her hair flew with the zephyr.
+
+ Where to the sea's edge slope the rocks,
+ I reached her, trembling near it.
+ Then, softly with the softest words,
+ I melted her proud spirit.
+
+ There we two sat as high as heaven,
+ And heaven's own rapture drinking.
+ While in the dark waves far below;
+ The gradual sun was sinking.
+
+ Below us in the deep, dark sea,
+ The fair sun dropped; then dashing,
+ The waves broke wildly over him,
+ With turbulence of passion.
+
+ Oh do not weep! he is not dead,
+ 'Neath billows swelling higher;
+ He has but hidden in my heart,
+ With all his burning fire.
+
+
+VIII.
+
+ Come, let us build upon this rock,
+ The Church of God's last lover,
+ The third New Testament's revealed,
+ The agony is over.
+
+ Refuted is the second book
+ That fooled us through long ages.
+ The stupid torture of the flesh
+ Is not for modern sages.
+
+ Hear'st thou the Lord in the dark sea,
+ With thousand voices speaking?
+ See'st thou o'erhead the thousand lights
+ Of God's own glory breaking?
+
+ The holy God dwells in the light,
+ As in the dark abysses.
+ For God is everything that is:
+ His breath is in our kisses.
+
+
+IX.
+
+ Gray night broods above the ocean,
+ Little stars gleam sparkling o'er us.
+ And the waters' many voices
+ Chant in deep, protracted chorus.
+
+ Hark! the old northwind is playing
+ On the polished waves of ocean,
+ That, like tubes of some great organ,
+ Thrill and stir with sounding motion.
+
+ Partly pagan, partly sacred,
+ Rise these melodies upswelling
+ Passionately to the heavens,
+ Where the joyous stars are dwelling.
+
+ And the stars wax large and larger,
+ In bright mazes they are driven,
+ Large as suns at last revolving,
+ Through the spaces of vast heaven.
+
+ And weird harmonies they warble
+ With the billows' music blending.
+ Solar nightingales, they circle
+ Through the spheres strange concord sending.
+
+ And with mighty roar and trembling,
+ Sky and ocean both are ringing;
+ And a giant's stormy rapture
+ Feel I in my bosom springing.
+
+
+X.
+
+ Shadow-love and shadow-kisses,
+ Life of shadows, wondrous strange!
+ Shall all hours be sweet as this is,
+ Silly darling, safe from change?
+
+ All things that we clasp and cherish,
+ Pass like dreams we may not keep.
+ Human hearts forget and perish,
+ Human eyes must fall asleep.
+
+
+XI.
+
+ She stood beside the ocean,
+ And sighed as one oppressed,
+ With such a deep emotion
+ The sunset thrilled her breast.
+
+ Dear maiden, look more gayly,
+ This trick is old, thou'lt find.
+ Before us sinks he daily,
+ To rise again behind.
+
+
+XII.
+
+ My ship sails forth with sable sails,
+ Far over the savage sea;
+ Thou know'st how heavy is my woe,
+ Yet still thou woundest me.
+
+ Thy heart is fickle as the wind,
+ And flits incessantly.
+ My ship sails forth with sable sails,
+ Far over the savage sea.
+
+
+XIII.
+
+ I told nor man, nor woman
+ How ill you dealt with me;
+ I came abroad and published it
+ To the fishes in the sea.
+
+ Only upon terra firma
+ I have left you your good name;
+ But over all the ocean
+ Every creature knows your shame.
+
+
+XIV.
+
+ The roaring waves press onward
+ To reach the strand.
+ Then swell, and, crashing downward,
+ Break on the sand.
+
+ They roll with surging power,
+ Nor rest, nor fail--
+ And then ebb slow and slower--
+ Of what avail?
+
+
+XV.
+
+ The Runenstein juts in the sea,
+ I sit here with my dreams,
+ The billows wander foamingly;
+ Winds pipe, the sea-mew screams.
+
+ Oh I have loved full many a lass,
+ And many a worthy fellow,
+ Where have they gone? The shrill winds pass,
+ And wandering foams the billow.
+
+
+XVI.
+
+ The waves gleam in the sunshine,
+ They seem of gold to be.
+ When I am dead, my brothers,
+ Oh drop me in the sea.
+
+ For dearly have I loved it.
+ Like cooling balm descends
+ Upon my heart its current:
+ We were the best of friends.
+
+
+
+
+TO ANGELIQUE.
+
+
+I.
+
+ Now that heaven smiles in favor,
+ Like a mute shall I still languish,--
+ I, who when unhappy, ever
+ Sang so much about mine anguish?
+
+ Till a thousand striplings haunted
+ By despair, my notes re-fluted,
+ And unto the woe I chanted,
+ Greater evils still imputed.
+
+ Oh ye nightingales' sweet choir,
+ That my bosom holds in capture,
+ Lift your joyous voices higher,
+ Let the whole world hear your rapture!
+
+
+II.
+
+ Though thou wert fain to pass me quickly,
+ Yet backward didst thou look by chance;
+ Thy wistful lips were frankly parted,
+ Impetuous scorn was in thy glance.
+
+ Would that I ne'er had sought to hold thee,
+ To touch thy fleeing gown's white train!
+ The dear mark of thy tiny footprints
+ Would that I ne'er had found again!
+
+ For now thy rare wild charm has vanished,
+ Like others thou art tame to see,
+ Intolerably kind and gentle--
+ Alas! thou art in love with me.
+
+
+III.
+
+ Ne'er can I believe, young beauty,
+ Thy disdainful lips alone:
+ For such big black eyes as thine are
+ Virtue never yet did own.
+
+ And those brown-streaked lies down-glancing
+ Say "I love thee!" clearly scanned,
+ Let thy little white heart kiss me--
+ White heart, dost thou understand?
+
+
+IV.
+
+ From the slightest of emotions,
+ What a sudden transformation,
+ To the most unbounded passion,
+ And the tenderest relation!
+
+ Every day it waxes deeper,
+ My affection for my lady.
+ I am almost half-persuaded
+ That I am in love already.
+
+ Beautiful her soul: though truly
+ That's a question of opinion.
+ I am surer of the beauty
+ Of the bodily dominion.
+
+ Oh that waist! And oh that forehead!
+ Oh that nose! The sweet enclosure
+ Of the lovely lips in smiling!
+ And the bearing's proud composure!
+
+
+V.
+
+ Ah, how fair thou art when frankly
+ Thou reveal'st thy soul's dimensions,
+ And thy speech is overflowing
+ With the noblest of intentions.
+
+ When thou tell'st me how thy feelings
+ Always have been truest, highest,
+ To the pride within thy bosom
+ Thou no sacrifice denyest.
+
+ Not for millions, thou averrest,
+ Man could thy pure honor buy,
+ Ere thou sell thyself for money
+ Ah, thou wouldst far liefer die.
+
+ I before thee stand and listen;
+ To the end I listen stoutly,
+ Like a type of faith in silence,
+ And I fold my hands devoutly.
+
+
+VI.
+
+ I closed my sweetheart's either eye,
+ And on her mouth I kissed,
+ Now asking me the reason why
+ She never gives me rest.
+
+ From set of sun till morning rise,
+ Each hour does she persist,
+ 'Oh wherefore did you close mine eyes,
+ When on my mouth you kissed?"
+
+ I never yet have told her why,
+ Myself I scarcely wist.
+ I closed my sweetheart's either eye,
+ And on her mouth I kissed.
+
+
+VII.
+
+ When I, enraptured by precious kisses,
+ Rest in thine arms for briefest season,
+ Of Germany thou must not ask me,
+ I cannot bear it--there is a reason!
+
+ Leave Germany in peace, I do beseech thee,
+ Vex not with endless questions my poor spirit
+ Concerning home, friends, social, kind relations,
+ There is a reason why I cannot bear it.
+
+ The oak-tree there is green, the German women
+ Have soft blue eyes--tender they are and fair.
+ They whisper sighs of hope and truth and passion.
+ I have good cause--'tis more than I can bear.
+
+
+VIII.
+
+ Whilst I, after other people's,
+ Others people's darlings gaze,
+ And before strange sweethearts' dwellings
+ Sighing pace through weary days.--
+
+ Then perhaps those other people
+ In another quarter pine,
+ Pacing by my very windows,
+ Coveting that girl of mine.
+
+ That were human! God in heaven,
+ Watch us still whate'er befall!
+ God in heaven, joy and blessing,
+ Joy and blessing send us all!
+
+
+IX.
+
+ Dismiss me not, e'en if my thirst
+ Quenched with that sweet draught be!
+ Bear with me for a season yet,
+ That shall suffice for me.
+
+ Canst thou no longer be my love,
+ Then be to me a friend;
+ For friendship only just begins
+ When love is at an end.
+
+
+X.
+
+ This mad carnival of loving,
+ This our heart's intoxication
+ Ends at last, and we twain, sobered,
+ Yawningly look each on each.
+
+ All the luscious cup is drained
+ That was filled with sensuous juices,
+ Foaming to the brim, enticing,
+ All the luscious cup is drained.
+
+ And the violins are silent,
+ That so sweetly played for dancing,
+ For the giddy dance of passion--
+ Yes, the violins are silent.
+
+ And the lanterns are extinguished,
+ That with gorgeous light illumined
+ All the motley troop of maskers--
+ Yes, the lanterns are extinguished.
+
+ And to-morrow comes Ash-Wednesday,
+ I will draw upon thy forehead
+ Then an ashen cross, and murmur,
+ Woman, thou art dust--remember!
+
+
+
+
+SPRING FESTIVAL.
+
+
+ This is the spring-tide's mournful feast,
+ The frantic troops of blooming girls
+ Are rushing hither with flying curls,
+ Moaning they smite their bare white breast,
+ Adonis! Adonis!
+
+ The night has come. By the torches' gleams
+ They search the forest on every side,
+ That echoes with anguish far and wide,
+ With tears, mad laughter, and sobs and screams,
+ Adonis! Adonis!
+
+ The mortal youth so strangely fair,
+ Lies on the cold turf pale and dead;
+ His heart's blood staineth the flowers red,
+ And a wild lament fulfills the air,
+ Adonis! Adonis!
+
+
+
+
+CHILDE HAROLD.
+
+
+ Lo, a large black-shrouded barge
+ Sadly moves with sails outspread,
+ And mute creatures' muffled features
+ Hold grim watch above the dead.
+
+ Calm below it lies the poet
+ With his fair face bare and white,
+ Still with yearning ever turning
+ Azure eyes towards heaven's light.
+
+ As he saileth sadly waileth
+ Some bereaven undine-bride.
+ O'er the springing waves outringing,
+ Hark! a dirge floats far and wide.
+
+
+
+
+THE ASRA.
+
+
+ Daily the fair Sultan's daughter
+ Wanders to and fro at twilight
+ By the margin of the fountain,
+ Where the waters white are rippling.
+
+ Daily the young slave at twilight
+ Stands beside the fountain's margin,
+ Where the waters white are rippling,
+ Daily grows he pale and paler.
+
+ There one evening moved the princess
+ Toward the slave with words swift-spoken
+ "Tell me, tell me what thy name is,
+ Where thy home is, what thy lineage?"
+
+ Spake the youthful slave: "My name is
+ Mahomet, I come from Yemen;
+ And by birth I am an Asra,
+ One who dieth when he loves."
+
+
+
+
+HELENA.
+
+
+ Thou hast invoked me from my grave,
+ And through thy magic spell
+ Hast quickened me with fierce desire,
+ This flame thou canst not quell.
+
+ Oh press thy lips against my lips,
+ Divine is mortal breath;
+ I drink thy very soul from thee.
+ Insatiable is death.
+
+
+
+
+SONG.
+
+
+ There stands a lonely pine-tree
+ In the north, on a barren height;
+ He sleeps while the ice and snow flakes
+ Swathe him in folds of white.
+
+ He dreameth of a palm-tree
+ Far in the sunrise-land,
+ Lonely and silent longing
+ On her burning bank of sand.
+
+
+
+
+THE NORTH SEA.
+
+1825-26.
+
+
+
+
+ TO
+ FREDERICK MERCKEL,
+
+ THE PICTURES OF
+ THE NORTH SEA
+ ARE AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR.
+
+
+
+
+THE NORTH SEA.
+
+FIRST CYCLUS.
+
+ "To be disinterested in everything, but above all in love and
+ friendship, was my supreme wish, my maxim, my practice; hence
+ my daring expression at a later period: 'If I love thee, what
+ is that to thee?' sprang directly from my heart."
+ Goethe's "Truth and Poetry," Book XIV.
+
+
+I. CORONATION.
+
+ Oh songs of mine! belovèd songs of mine,
+ Up, up! and don your armor,
+ And let the trumpets blare,
+ And lift upon your shield
+ This youthful maiden
+ Who now shall reign supreme
+ Over my heart, as queen!
+ Hail! hail! thou youthful queen!
+
+ From the sun above
+ I snatch the beaming red gold,
+ And weave therewith a diadem
+ For thy consecrated head.
+ From the fluttering azure-silken canopy of heaven,
+ Where blaze the diamonds of night,
+ A precious fragment I cut:
+ And as a coronation mantle,
+ I hang it upon thy royal shoulders.
+ I bestow on thee a court
+ Of richly-attired sonnets,
+ Haughty _Terzine_ and stately stanzas.
+ My wit shall serve thee as courier,
+ My fancy shall be thy fool,
+ Thy herald, whose crest is a smiling tear,
+ Shall be my humor.
+
+ But I myself, oh Queen,
+ Low do I kneel before thee,
+ On the cushion of crimson samite,
+ And as homage I dedicate to thee.
+ The tiny morsel of reason,
+ That has been compassionately spared me
+ By thy predecessor in the realm.
+
+
+II. TWILIGHT.
+
+ On the wan shore of the sea
+ Lonely I sat with troubled thoughts.
+ The sun dropped lower, and cast
+ Glowing red streaks on the water.
+ And the white wide waves,
+ Crowding in with the tide,
+ Foamed and rustled, nearer and nearer,
+ With a strange rustling, a whispering, a hissing,
+ A laughter, a murmur, a sighing, a seething,
+ And amidst all these a mysterious lullaby.
+ I seemed to hear long-past traditions,
+ Lovely old-time fairy-tales,
+ Which as a boy I had heard,
+ From the neighbor's children,
+ When on summer evenings we had nestled
+ On the stone steps of the porch.
+ With little eager hearts,
+ And wistful cunning eyes,
+ Whilst the grown maidens
+ Sat opposite at their windows
+ Near their sweet-smelling flower pots,
+ With their rosy faces,
+ Smiling and beaming in the moonlight.
+
+
+III. SUNSET.
+
+ The glowing red sun descends
+ Into the wide, tremulous
+ Silver-gray ocean.
+ Ethereal, rosy tinted forms
+ Are wreathed behind him, and opposite,
+ Through the veil of autumnal, twilight clouds,
+ Like a sad, deathly-pale countenance,
+ Breaks the moon,
+ And after her, like sparks of light,
+ In the misty distance, shimmer the stars.
+
+ Once there shone forth in heaven,
+ Nuptially united.
+ Luna the goddess, and Sol the god.
+ And around them gathered the stars,
+ Those innocent little children.
+
+ But evil tongues whispered dissension,
+ And in bitterness parted
+ The lofty, illustrious pair.
+
+ Now all day in lonely splendor
+ The sun-god fares overhead,
+ Worshiped and magnified in song,
+ For the excellence of his glory,
+ By haughty prosperity--hardened men.
+ But at night
+ In heaven wandereth Luna,
+ The poor mother,
+ With her orphaned, starry children;
+ And she shines with a quiet sadness,
+ And loving maidens and gentle poets
+ Dedicate to her their tears and their songs.
+
+ Poor weak Luna! Womanly-natured,
+ Still doth she love her beautiful consort.
+ Towards evening pale and trembling,
+ She peers forth from light clouds,
+ And sadly gazes after the departing one,
+ And in her anguish fain would call to him, "Come!
+ Come! our children are pining for thee!"
+ But the scornful sun-god,
+ At the mere sight of his spouse,
+ Glows in doubly-dyed purple,
+ With wrath and grief,
+ And implacably he hastens downward
+ To the cold waves of his widowed couch.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Thus did evil-whispering tongues
+ Bring grief and ruin
+ Even upon the immortal gods.
+ And the poor gods in heaven above
+ Painfully wander
+ Disconsolate on their eternal path,
+ And cannot die;
+ And drag with them
+ The chain of their glittering misery.
+
+ But I, the son of man,
+ The lowly-born, the death-crowned one,
+ I murmur no more.
+
+
+IV. NIGHT ON THE SHORE.
+
+ Starless and cold is the night,
+ The sea yawns;
+ And outstretched flat on his paunch, over the sea,
+ Lies the uncouth North-wind.
+ Secretly with a groaning, stifled voice,
+ Like a peevish, crabbed man in a freak of good humor,
+ He babbles to the ocean,
+ And recounts many a mad tale,
+ Stories of murderous giants,
+ Quaint old Norwegian Sagas,
+ And from time to time, with re-echoing laughter,
+ He howls forth
+ The conjuration-songs of the Edda,
+ With Runic proverbs
+ So mysteriously arrogant, so magically powerful,
+ That the white children of the sea
+ High in the air upspring and rejoice,
+ Intoxicated with insolence.
+
+ Meanwhile on the level beach,
+ Over the wave-wetted sand,
+ Strides a stranger whose heart
+ Is still wilder than wind or wave.
+ Where his feet fall
+ Sparks are scattered and shells are cracked.
+ And he wraps himself closer in his gray mantle,
+ And walks rapidly through the windy night,
+ Surely guided by a little light,
+ That kindly and invitingly beams
+ From the lonely fisherman's hut.
+
+ Father and brother are on the sea,
+ And quite alone in the hut
+ Bides the fisher's daughter,
+ The fisher's rarely-beautiful daughter.
+ She sits on the hearth,
+ And listens to the cosy auspicious hum
+ Of the boiling kettle,
+ And lays crackling fagots upon the fire.
+ And blows thereon,
+ Till the flickering red flames
+ With a magic charm are reflected
+ On her blooming face.
+ On her delicate white shoulders
+ Which so pathetically outpeep
+ From the coarse gray smock,
+ And on her little tidy hand
+ Which gathers more closely the petticoat
+ About her dainty loins.
+
+ But suddenly the door springs wide,
+ And in steps the nocturnal stranger
+ His eyes rest with confident love
+ On the slim, white maiden,
+ Who stands trembling before him,
+ Like a frightened lily.
+ And he flings his mantle to the ground
+ And laughs and speaks.
+ "Thou see'st my child! I keep my word.
+ And I come, and with me, comes
+ The olden time when the gods of heaven
+ Descended to the daughters of men,
+ And embraced the daughters of men,
+ And begot with them
+ A race of sceptre-bearing kings,
+ And heroes, the wonder of the world.
+ But thou my child, no longer stand amazed
+ At my divinity.
+ And I beseech thee, boil me some tea with rum,
+ For it is cold out doors,
+ And in such a night-air as this,
+ Even we, the eternal gods, must freeze.
+ And we easily catch a divine catarrh,
+ And an immortal cough."
+
+
+V. POSEIDON.
+
+ The sunbeams played
+ Upon the wide rolling sea.
+ Far out on the roadstead glimmered the vessel
+ That was to bear me home.
+ But the favoring wind was lacking,
+ And still quietly I sat on the white down,
+ By the lonely shore.
+
+ And I read the lay of Odysseus,
+ The old, the eternally-young lay,
+ From whose billowy-rushing pages
+ Joyously into me ascended
+ The breath of the gods,
+ And the lustrous spring-tide of humanity,
+ And the blooming skies of Hellas.
+
+ My loyal heart faithfully followed
+ The son of Laertes in his wanderings and vexations,
+ By his side I sat with troubled soul,
+ On the hospitable hearth
+ Where queens were spinning purple.
+
+ And I helped him to lie and happily to escape
+ From the dens of giants and the arms of nymphs.
+ And I followed him into Cimmerian night,
+ Into storm and shipwreck,
+ And with him I suffered unutterable misery.
+
+ With a sigh I spake: "Oh, thou cruel Poseidon,
+ Fearful is thy wrath,
+ And I myself tremble
+ For mine own journey home."
+ Scarce had I uttered the words,
+ When the sea foamed,
+ And from the white billows arose
+ The reed-crowned head of the sea-god.
+ And disdainfully he cried:
+ "Have no fear, Poetling!
+ Not in the least will I imperil
+ Thy poor little ship.
+ Neither will I harass thy precious life
+ With too considerable oscillations.
+ For thou, Poetling, hast never offended me,
+ Thou hast not injured a single turret
+ On the sacred stronghold of Priam.
+ Not a single little lash hast thou singed
+ In the eyelid of my son Polyphemus;
+ And never hast thou been sagely counselled and protected
+ By the goddess of wisdom, Pallas Athene."
+
+ Thus exclaimed Poseidon,
+ And plunged again into the sea.
+ And, at his coarse sailor-wit,
+ Laughed under the water
+ Amphitrite, the stout fishwoman,
+ And the stupid daughters of Nereus.
+
+
+VI. DECLARATION.
+
+ Shadowing downward came dusky evening,
+ Wildly the breakers rolled,
+ I sat alone upon the shore and gazed
+ At the white dance of the waves.
+
+ And my bosom heaved with the sea,
+ A deep homesickness yearningly seized my heart
+ For thee, oh lovely image,
+ Who surround'st me everywhere,
+ Who call'st to me everywhere,
+ Everywhere, everywhere,
+ In the rushing of the wind, in the dashing of the sea,
+ And in the sighing of mine own breast.
+
+ With a slender reed I wrote upon the sand,
+ "Agnes, I love thee!"
+ But the wicked waves came overflowing
+ That sweet confession,
+ And blotted it out.
+
+ Oh brittle reed! oh swiftly-scattered sand!
+ Oh flowing waves, I trust you no more!
+ The heavens grow darker, my heart beats more wildly,
+ And with a mighty hand, from the Norwegian woods,
+ I snatch the loftiest fir,
+ And I plunge it
+ Into Etna's glowing gulf;
+ And, with such a fire-steeped giant's pen,
+ I write on the dusky canopy of heaven,
+ "Agnes, I love thee!"
+
+ Each night hereafter overhead shall blaze
+ Those eternal letters of flame.
+ And all future generations of our descendants
+ Shall joyously read the celestial sign,
+ "Agnes, I love thee!"
+
+
+VII. NIGHT IN THE CABIN.
+
+ The ocean hath its pearls,
+ The heaven hath its stars,
+ But oh, my heart, my heart,
+ My heart hath its love.
+
+ Great are the sea and the heavens,
+ But greater is my heart.
+ And fairer than pearls or stars
+ Glistens and glows my love,
+
+ Thou little, youthful maiden,
+ Come unto my mighty heart.
+ My heart, and the sea, and the heavens
+ Are melting away with love.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ On the azure vault of heaven,
+ Where the beauteous stars are shining,
+ I am fain to press my lips now,
+ Wildly press midst stormy weeping.
+
+ Yonder myriad stars the eyes are
+ Of my darling, and they twinkle,
+ And they beckon to me kindly
+ From the azure vault of heaven.
+
+ Towards the azure vault of heaven,
+ Towards the eyes of my belovèd,
+ Piously mine arms uplifting,
+ Thus I supplicate and worship;
+
+ Lovely eyes, ye lights of heaven,
+ Graciously my soul inspire--
+ Let me die and let me win you,
+ You and all your spacious heavens.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ From the eyes of heaven yonder,
+ Golden sparks fall trembling downward,
+ Through the night. My soul dilateth,
+ Filled and overfilled with passion.
+
+ Oh ye eyes of heaven yonder,
+ Weep yourselves to death within me!
+ Till my spirit overfloweth
+ With the radiant starry tear drops.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Cradled by the waves of ocean,
+ And by drowsy thoughts and visions,
+ Still I lie within the cabin,
+ In my berth so dark and narrow.
+
+ Through the open hatchway yonder,
+ I can see the stars clear shining.
+ The belovèd eyes so gentle,
+ Of my gentle well-belovèd.
+
+ The belovèd eyes so gentle
+ Hold above my head their vigil;
+ And they glimmer and they beckon
+ From the azure vault of heaven.
+
+ On the azure vault of heaven,
+ Still I gaze through blessed hours,
+ Till a white and filmy vapor
+ Veils from me those eyes belovèd.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Against the wooden wall of the ship
+ Where my dreaming head reclines,
+ Break the waves, the wild sea-waves.
+ They whisper and murmur
+ Close into mine ear:
+ "Oh foolish young fellow,
+ Thine arm is short and the sky is far off,
+ And the stars are all firmly nailed above
+ With golden nails.
+ Vain is thy yearning and vain is thy sighing!
+ The best thou canst do is to go to sleep."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ I dreamed a dream about a strange vast heath,
+ All overlaid with white and quiet snow.
+ And I beneath that white snow buried lay,
+ And slept the cold and lonely sleep of death.
+
+ But from the dark and shadowy heavens yonder,
+ Upon my grave the starry eyes looked down.
+ Those gentle eyes! Triumphantly they sparkled,
+ With still serenity, yet full of love.
+
+
+VIII. STORM.
+
+ The tempest is raging.
+ It lashes the waves,
+ And the waves foaming and rearing in wrath
+ Tower on high, and the white mountains of water
+ Surge as though they were alive,
+ While the little ship over-climbs them
+ With laborious haste,
+ And suddenly plunges down
+ Into the black, wide-yawning abyss of the tide.
+
+ O sea.
+ Thou mother of beauty, of the foam-engendered one,
+ Grandmother of love, spare me!
+ Already scenting death, flutters around me
+ The white, ghostly sea-mew,
+ And whets his beak on the mast.
+ And hungers with glutton-greed for the heart
+ Which resounds with the glory of thy daughter,
+ And which the little rogue, thy grandson,
+ Hath chosen for his play-ground.
+
+ In vain are my prayers and entreaties,
+ My cry dies away in the rushing storm,
+ In the battle-tumult of the winds.
+ They roar and whistle and crackle and howl
+ Like a bedlam of tones.
+ And amidst them, distinctly I hear
+ Alluring notes of harps,
+ Heart-melting, heart-rending,
+ And I recognize the voice.
+
+ Far away on the rocky Scotch coast,
+ Where the little gray castle juts out
+ Over the breaking waves,--
+ There at the lofty-arched window
+ Stands a beautiful suffering woman,
+ Transparently delicate, and pale as marble.
+ And she plays on the harp, and she sings,
+ And the wind stirs her flowing locks,
+ And wafts her melancholy song
+ Over the wide, stormy sea.
+
+
+IX. CALM.
+
+ Calm at sea! The sunbeams flicker
+ Falling on the level water,
+ And athwart the liquid jewels
+ Ploughs the ship her emerald furrows.
+
+ By the rudder lies the pilot
+ On his stomach, gently snoring,
+ Near the mast, the tarry ship-boy
+ Stoops at work, the sail repairing.
+
+ 'Neath their smut his cheeks are ruddy,
+ Hotly flushed,--his broad mouth twitches.
+ Full of sadness are the glances
+ Of his eyes so large and lovely.
+
+ For the captain stands before him,
+ Raves and scolds and curses: "Rascal!
+ Little rascal, thou hast robbed me
+ Of a herring from the barrel."
+
+ Calm at sea! above the water
+ comes a cunning fish out-peeping.
+ Warms his little head in sunshine,
+ Merrily his small fins plashing.
+
+ But from airy heights, the sea-mew
+ On the little fish darts downward.
+ Carrying in his beak his booty
+ Back he soars into the azure.
+
+
+X. AN APPARITION IN THE SEA.
+
+ I however lay on the edge of the vessel,
+ And gazed with dreamy eyes
+ Down into the glass-clear water.
+ And gazed deeper and deeper,
+ Deep down into the bottom of the sea.
+ At first like a twilight mist,
+ Then gradually more distinctly colored,
+ Domes of churches and towers arose,
+ And at last, as clear as sunshine, a whole city,
+ An antique Netherland city,
+ Enlivened with people.
+ Grave men with black mantles,
+ And white ruffs, and chains of honor,
+ And long swords and long faces,
+ Strode over the swarming market-place,
+ Towards the court-house with its high steps,
+ Where the stone effigies of emperors
+ Kept guard with scepter and sword.
+ Near by, past long rows of houses,
+ Past casements like polished mirrors,
+ And pyramidal, clipped lindens,
+ Wandered, in rustling silks, the young maidens,
+ With slender forms, and flower-faces
+ Decently encircled by their black hoods,
+ And their waving golden hair.
+ Motley-clad folk in Spanish garb
+ Strut past and salute each other.
+ Elderly dames
+ In brown, old-fashioned attire,
+ Missal and rosary in hand,
+ Hasten with tripping steps
+ Towards the great cathedral,
+ Drawn thither by the chiming bells,
+ And by the deep-voiced tones of the organ.
+
+ And the far-off chimes smite me also
+ With mysterious awe.
+ Insatiable yearning, profound sadness
+ Steal into my heart,
+ Into my scarcely-healed heart.
+ I feel as if its wounds
+ Were kissed open by belovèd lips,
+ And began to bleed afresh,
+ With hot, red drops,
+ That fall long and slowly,
+ On an old house below there,
+ In the deep city of the sea;--
+ On an old high-gabled house,
+ Sadly deserted by all living creatures,
+ Save that in the lower window,
+ Sits a maiden,
+ Her head resting on her arms,
+ Like a poor, forsaken child,
+ And I know thee, thou poor forsaken child.
+ Deep down, deep as the sea,
+ Thou hiddest thyself from me,
+ In a childish freak,
+ And never couldst rise again.
+
+ And thou sat'st a stranger among strangers,
+ Through long ages,
+ Whilst I, my soul full of grief,--
+ I sought thee over the whole earth.
+ Forever I sought thee,
+ Thou ever-belovèd,
+ Thou long-lost,
+ Thou found at last!
+ I have found thee, and I see once more
+ Thy sweet face,
+ The wise, loyal eyes,
+ The darling smile,
+ And never again will I leave thee,
+ And I come down to thee now,
+ And with wide-stretched arms,
+ I leap down upon thy breast.
+
+ But just at the right moment
+ The captain seized me by the foot,
+ And drew me from the edge of the vessel,
+ And cried with a peevish laugh,
+ "Doctor, are you possessed by the devil?"
+
+
+XI. PURIFICATION.
+
+ Remain in thy deep sea-home,
+ Thou insane dream,
+ Which so many a night
+ Hast tortured my heart with a counterfeit happiness,
+ And which now as a vision of the sea
+ Dost threaten me even in the broad daylight.
+ Remain there below to all eternity!
+ And I cast moreover down unto thee
+ All my sorrows and sins,
+ And the cap and bells of folly
+ That have jingled so long upon my head.
+ And the cold, sleek serpent's skin
+ Of dissimulation,
+ Which so long has enwound my soul--
+ My sick soul,
+ My God-denying, angel-denying
+ Wretched soul.
+ Hilli-ho! Hilli-ho! Here comes the breeze.
+ Up with the sails! They flutter and belly to the wind.
+ Over the treacherous smooth plain
+ Hastens the ship
+ And the emancipated soul rejoices.
+
+
+XII. PEACE.
+
+ High in heaven stood the sun,
+ Surrounded by white clouds.
+ The sea was calm;
+ And I lay musing on the helm of the ship,
+ Dreamily musing, and, half-awake,
+ Half asleep, I saw Christ,
+ The Savior of the world.
+ In waving white raiment
+ He strode gigantically tall
+ Over land and sea.
+ His head touched heaven,
+ He spread his hands in benediction
+ Over land and sea;
+ And for a heart in his bosom
+ He bore the sun,
+ The red fiery sun,
+ And the red, fiery sun-heart
+ Showered its beams of grace,
+ And its pure love-bestowing light,
+ That illumines and warms
+ Over land and sea.
+
+ Peals of festal bells drew hither and thither,
+ As swans might draw by chains of roses
+ The smooth-gliding vessel,
+ And sportively drew it to the verdant banks,
+ Where folk dwelt in a lofty-towered
+ Overhanging town.
+ Oh miracle of peace! How quiet was the town!
+ Hushed was the dull murmur of chattering, sweltering Trade.
+ And through the clean, resounding streets,
+ Walked people clad in white,
+ Bearing branches of palm.
+ And when two such would meet,
+ They looked at each other with ardent sympathy
+ And, trembling with love and self denial,
+ Kissed each other's brow,
+ And glanced upward
+ Towards the sun-heart of the Savior,
+ Which in glad propitiation irradiated downward
+ Its crimson blood:
+ And thrice they exclaimed,
+ "Praised be Jesus Christ!"
+
+ Couldst thou have conceived this vision,
+ What wouldst thou have given,
+ Most dearly belovèd,--
+ Thou who art so weak in body and mind,
+ And so strong in faith!
+ Thou who so singly honorest the Trinity,
+ Who kissest daily the pug and the reins and the paws
+ Of thy lofty protectress,
+ And hastenest with canting devotion
+ To the Aulic councilor and to the councilor of justice,
+ And at last to the council of the Realm
+ In the pious city,
+ Where sand and faith flourish,
+ And the long-suffering waters of the sacred Spree
+ Purify souls and dilute tea.
+ Couldst thou have conceived this vision
+ Most dearly belovèd,
+ Thou hadst borne it to the lofty minnows of the market place,
+ With thy pale blinking countenance,
+ Rapt with piety and humility;
+ And their high mightinesses
+ Ravished and trembling with ecstacy,
+ Would have fallen praying with thee on their knees,
+ And their eyes glowing with beatitude,
+ Would have promised thee an increase of salary,
+ Of a hundred thalers Prussian currency.
+ And thou wouldst have stammered with folded hands,
+ "Praised be Jesus Christ!"
+
+
+
+
+SECOND CYCLUS.
+
+Motto, Xenophon's Anabasis--IV. V.
+
+
+I. SALUTATION TO THE SEA.
+
+ Thalatta! Thalatta!
+ All hail to thee, thou Eternal sea!
+ All hail to thee ten thousand times
+ From my jubilant heart,
+ As once thou wast hailed
+ By ten thousand Grecian hearts,
+ Misfortune-combating, homeward-yearning,
+ World-renowned Grecian hearts.
+
+ The waters heaved,
+ They heaved and roared.
+ The sun poured streaming downward
+ Its flickering rosy lights.
+ The startled flocks of sea-mews
+ Fluttered away with shrill screams;
+ The coursers stamped, the shields rattled,
+ And far out, resounded like a triumphal pæan,
+ Thalatta! Thalatta!
+
+ All hail to thee, thou Eternal Sea!
+ Like the language of home, thy water whispers to me.
+ Like the dreams of my childhood I see it glimmer.
+ Over thy billowy realm of waves.
+ And it repeats to me anew olden memories,
+ Of all the belovèd glorious sports,
+ Of all the twinkling Christmas gifts,
+ Of all the ruddy coral-trees,
+ Tiny golden fishes, pearls and bright-hued mussels,
+ Which thou dost secretly preserve
+ Below there in thy limpid house of crystal.
+
+ Oh, how I have pined in barren exile!
+ Like a withered flower
+ In the tin box of a botanist,
+ My heart lay in my breast.
+ I feel as if all winter I had sat,
+ A sick man, in a dark, sick room,
+ Which now I suddenly leave.
+ And dazzlingly shines down upon me
+ The emerald spring, the sunshine-awakened spring,
+ And the white-blossomed trees are rustling;
+ And the young flowers look at me,
+ With their many-colored, fragrant eyes.
+ And there is an aroma, and a murmuring, and a breathing and a
+ laughter,
+ And in the blue sky the little birds are singing,
+ Thalatta! Thalatta!
+
+ Thou valiant, retreating heart,
+ How oft, how bitter oft
+ Did the fair barbarians of the North press thee hard!
+ From their large victorious eyes
+ They darted burning shafts.
+ With crooked, polished words,
+ They threatened to cleave my breast.
+ With sharp-pointed missives they shattered
+ My poor, stunned brain.
+ In vain I held up against them my shield,
+ The arrows whizzed, the strokes cracked,
+ And from the fair barbarians of the North
+ I was pressed even unto the sea.
+ And now with deep, free breath, I hail the sea,
+ The dear, redeeming sea--
+ Thalatta! Thalatta!
+
+
+II. TEMPEST.
+
+ Gloomy lowers the tempest over the sea,
+ And through the black wall of cloud
+ Is unsheathed the jagged lightning,
+ Swift outflashing, and swift-vanishing,
+ Like a jest from the brain of Chronos.
+ Over the barren, billowy water,
+ Far away rolls the thunder,
+ And up leap the white water-steeds,
+ Which Boreas himself begot
+ Out of the graceful mare of Erichthon,
+ And the sea-birds flutter around,
+ Like the shadowy dead on the Styx,
+ Whom Charon repels from his nocturnal boat.
+
+ Poor, merry, little vessel,
+ Dancing yonder the most wretched of dances!
+ Eolus sends it his liveliest comrades,
+ Who wildly play to the jolliest measures;
+ One pipes his horn, another blows,
+ A third scrapes his growling bass-viol.
+ And the uncertain sailor stands at the rudder,
+ And constantly gazes at the compass,
+ The trembling soul of the ship;
+ And he raises his hands in supplication to Heaven--
+ "Oh, save me, Castor, gigantic hero!
+ And thou conquering wrestler, Pollux."
+
+
+III. WRECKED.
+
+ Hope and love! everything shattered
+ And I myself, like a corpse
+ That the growling sea has cast up,
+ I lie on the strand,
+ On the barren cold strand.
+ Before me surges the waste of waters,
+ Behind me lies naught but grief and misery;
+ And above me, march the clouds,--
+ The formless, gray daughters of the air,
+ Who from the sea, in buckets of mist,
+ Draw the water,
+ And laboriously drag and drag it,
+ And spill it again in the sea--
+ A melancholy, tedious task,
+ And useless as my own life.
+
+ The waves murmur, the sea mews scream,
+ Old recollections possess me;
+ Forgotten dreams, banished visions,
+ Tormentingly sweet, uprise.
+
+ There lives a woman in the North,
+ A beautiful woman, royally beautiful.
+ Her slender, cypress-like form
+ Is swathed in a light, white raiment.
+ Her locks, in their dusky fullness,
+ Like a blessed night,
+ Streaming from her braid-crowned head,
+ Curl softly as a dream
+ Around the sweet, pale face;
+ And from the sweet pale face
+ Large and powerful beams an eye,
+ Like a black sun.
+ Oh thou black sun, how oft,
+ How rapturously oft, I drank from thee
+ The wild flames of inspiration!
+ And stood and reeled, intoxicated with fire.
+ Then there hovered a smile as mild as a dove,
+ About the arched, haughty lips.
+ And the arched, haughty lips
+ Breathed forth words as sweet as moonlight,
+ And delicate as the fragrance of the rose.
+ And my soul soared aloft,
+ And flew like an eagle up into the heavens.
+
+ Silence ye waves and sea mews!
+ All is over! joy and hope--
+ Hope and love! I lie on the ground
+ An empty, shipwrecked man,
+ And press my glowing face
+ Into the moist sand.
+
+
+IV. SUNSET.
+
+ The beautiful sun
+ Has quietly descended into the sea.
+ The surging water is already tinted
+ By dusky night--
+ But still the red of evening
+ Sprinkles it with golden lights.
+ And the rushing might of the tide
+ Presses toward the shore the white waves,
+ That merrily and nimbly leap
+ Like woolly flocks of sheep,
+ Which at evening the singing shepherd boy
+ Drives homeward.
+
+ "How beautiful is the sun!"
+ Thus spake after a long silence, the friend
+ Who wandered with me on the beach.
+ And, half in jest, half in sober sadness,
+ He assured me that the sun
+ Was a beautiful woman, who had for policy
+ Espoused the old god of the sea.
+ All day she wanders joyously
+ In the lofty heavens, decked with purple,
+ And sparkling with diamonds;
+ Universally beloved, universally admired
+ By all creatures of the globe,
+ And cheering all creatures of the globe
+ With the radiance and warmth of her glance.
+ But at evening, wretchedly constrained,
+ She returns once more
+ To the wet home, to the empty arms
+ Of her hoary spouse.
+
+ "Believe me," added my friend,
+ And laughed and sighed, and laughed again,
+ "They live down there in the daintiest wedlock;
+ Either they sleep or else they quarrel,
+ Until high upheaves the sea above them,
+ And the sailor amidst the roaring of the waves can hear
+ How the old fellow berates his wife:
+ 'Round strumpet of the universe!
+ Sunbeam coquette!
+ The whole day you shine for others,
+ And at night for me you are frosty and tired.'
+ After such curtain lectures,--
+ Quite naturally--bursts into tears
+ The proud sun, and bemoans her misery,
+ And bemoans so lamentably long, that the sea god
+ Suddenly springs desperately out of his bed,
+ And quickly swims up to the surface of the ocean,
+ To collect his wits and to breathe."
+
+ Thus did I myself see him yester-night,
+ Uprise from the bosom of the sea.
+ He had a jacket of yellow flannel,
+ And a lily-white night cap,
+ And a withered countenance.
+
+
+V. THE SONG OF THE OCEANIDES.
+
+ 'Tis nightfall and paler grows the sea.
+ And alone with his lonely soul,
+ There sits a man on the cold strand
+ And turns his death-cold glances
+ Towards the vast, death-cold vault of heaven,
+ And toward the vast, billowy sea.
+ On airy sails float forth his sighs;
+ And melancholy they return,
+ And find the heart close-locked,
+ Wherein they fain would anchor.
+ And he groans so loud that the white sea-mews,
+ Startled out of their sandy nests,
+ Flutter circling around him.
+ And he laughingly speaks to them thus:
+
+ "Ye black-legged birds,
+ With white wings, oversea flutterers!
+ With crooked beaks, salt-water bibbers,
+ Ye oily seal-flesh devourers!
+ Your life is as bitter as your food.
+ I, however, the fortunate, taste naught but sweets!
+ I taste the fragrance of the rose,
+ The moonshine-nourished bride of the nightingale.
+ I taste still sweeter sugar-plums,
+ Stuffed with whipped cream.
+ And the sweetest of all things I taste,
+ The sweets of loving and of being loved!
+
+ "She loves me, she loves me, the dear girl!
+ Now stands she at home on the balcony of her house,
+ And gazes forth in the twilight upon the street,
+ And listens and yearns for me,--really!
+ Vainly does she glance around, and sigh,
+ And sighing she descends to the garden,
+ And wanders midst the fragrance and the moonlight,
+ And talks to the flowers, and tells them
+ How I, her belovèd, am so lovely and so lovable--really!
+ Later in her bed, in her sleep, in her dreams,
+ Blissfully she hovers about my precious image,
+ So that in the morning at breakfast
+ Upon the glistening buttered bread,
+ She sees my smiling face,
+ And she devours it for sheer love--really!"
+
+ Thus boasted and boasted he,
+ And meanwhile screamed the sea-mews,
+ As with cold, ironical tittering.
+ The twilight mists ascended,
+ Uncannily forth from lilac clouds
+ Peered the greenish-yellow moon.
+ Loud roared the billows,
+ And deep from the loud roaring sea,
+ As plaintive as a whispering monsoon,
+ Sounded the song of the Oceanides--
+ Of the beautiful, compassionate mermaids,
+ Distinct midst them all the lovely voice
+ Of the silver-footed spouse of Peleus--
+ And they sigh and sing:
+
+ "Oh fool, thou fool, thou boasting fool,
+ Tormented with misery!
+ Destroyed are all thy hopes,
+ The playful children of the heart--
+ And ah! thy heart, Niobe-like,
+ Is petrified with grief!
+ In thy brain falls the night,
+ And therein are unsheathed the lightnings of frenzy,
+ And thou makest a boast of thy trouble!
+ Oh fool, thou fool, thou boasting fool!
+ Stiff-necked art thou as thy forefather,
+ The lofty Titan, who stole celestial fire
+ From the gods, and bestowed it upon man.
+ And tortured by eagles chained to the rock,
+ Olympus-high he flung defiance, flung defiance and groaned,
+ Till we heard it in the depths of the sea,
+ And came to him with the song of consolation.
+ Oh fool, thou fool, thou boasting fool!
+ Thou, however, art more impotent still.
+ 'Twere more seemly that thou shouldst honor the gods,
+ And patiently bear the burden of misery,
+ And patiently bear it, long, so long,
+ Till Atlas himself would lose patience,
+ And cast from his shoulders the ponderous world
+ Into eternal night."
+
+ So rang the song of the Oceanides,
+ Of the beautiful compassionate mermaids,
+ Until louder waves overpowered it.
+ Behind the clouds retired the moon,
+ The night yawned,
+ And I sat long thereafter in the darkness and wept.
+
+
+VI. THE GODS OF GREECE.
+
+ Full-blooming moon, in thy radiance,
+ Like flowing gold shines the sea.
+ With daylight clearness, yet twilight enchantment,
+ Thy beams lie over the wide, level beach.
+ And in the pure, blue starless heavens,
+ Float the white clouds,
+ Like colossal images of gods
+ Of gleaming marble.
+
+ No more again! those are no clouds!
+ They are themselves--the gods of Hellas,
+ Who erst so joyously governed the world,
+ But now, supplanted and dead,
+ Yonder, like monstrous ghosts, must fare,
+ Through the midnight skies.
+
+ Amazed and strangely dazzled, I contemplate
+ The ethereal Pantheon.
+ The solemnly mute, awfully agitated,
+ Gigantic forms.
+ There is Chronos yonder, the king of heaven;
+ Snow-white are the curls of his head,
+ The world-renowned Olympus-shaking curls.
+ He holds in his hand the quenched lightning,
+ In his face dwell misfortune and grief;
+ But even yet the olden pride.
+ Those were better days, oh Zeus,
+ When thou didst celestially divert thyself
+ With youths and nymphs and hecatombs.
+ But the gods themselves, reign not forever;
+ The young supplant the old,
+ As thou thyself, thy hoary father,
+ And thy Titan-uncle didst supplant
+ Jupiter-Parricida!
+ Thee also, I recognize, haughty Juno;
+ Despite all thy jealous care,
+ Another has wrested thy sceptre from thee,
+ And thou art no longer Queen of Heaven.
+
+ And thy great eyes are blank,
+ And thy lily arms are powerless,
+ And nevermore may thy vengeance smite
+ The divinely-quickened Virgin,
+ And the miracle-performing son of God.
+ Thee also I recognize, Pallas Athena!
+ With thy shield and thy wisdom, could'st thou not avert
+ The ruin of the gods?
+ Also thee I recognize, thee also, Aphrodite!
+ Once the golden, now the silvern!
+ 'Tis true that the love-charmed zone still adorns thee
+ But I shudder with horror at thy beauty.
+ And if thy gracious body were to favor me
+ Like other heroes, I should die of terror.
+ Thou seemest to me a goddess-corpse,
+ Venus Libitina!
+ No longer glances toward thee with love,
+ Yonder the dread Ares!
+ How melancholy looks Phoebus Apollo
+ The youth. His lyre is silent,
+ Which once so joyously resounded at the feast of the gods.
+
+ Still sadder looks Hephaistos.
+ And indeed nevermore shall the limper
+ Stumble into the service of Hebe,
+ And nimbly pour forth to the assemblage
+ The luscious nectar. And long ago was extinguished
+ The unextinguishable laughter of the gods.
+
+ I have never loved you, ye gods!
+ For to me are the Greeks antipathetic,
+ And even the Romans are hateful.
+ But holy compassion and sacred pity
+ Penetrate my heart,
+ When I now gaze upon you yonder,
+ Deserted gods!
+ Dead night-wandering shadows,
+ Weak as mists which the wind scares away.
+ And when I recall how dastardly and visionary
+ Are the gods who have supplanted you,
+ The new, reigning, dolorous gods,
+ Mischief-plotters in the sheep's clothing of humility,
+ Oh then a more sullen rancor possesses me,
+ And I fain would shatter the new Temples,
+ And battle for you, ye ancient gods,--
+ For you and your good ambrosial cause.
+ And before your high altars,
+ Rebuilt with their extinguished fires,
+ Fain would I kneel and pray,
+ And supplicating uplift mine arms.
+
+ Always ye ancient gods,
+ Even in the battles of mortals,
+ Always did ye espouse the cause of the victor.
+ But man is more magnanimous than ye,
+ And in the battles of the gods, he now takes the part
+ Of the gods who have been vanquished.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Thus spake I, and lo, visibly blushed
+ Yonder the wan cloud figures,
+ And they gazed upon me like the dying,
+ Transfigured by sorrow, and suddenly disappeared.
+ The moon was concealed
+ Behind dark advancing clouds.
+ Loud roared the sea.
+ And triumphantly came forth in the heavens
+ The eternal stars.
+
+
+VII. THE PHOENIX.
+
+ A bird comes flying out of the West;
+ He flies to the Eastward,
+ Towards the Eastern garden-home,
+ Where spices shed fragrance, and flourish,
+ And palms rustle and fountains scatter coolness.
+ And in his flight the magic bird sings:
+
+ "She loves him! she loves him!
+ She carries his portrait in her little heart,
+ And she carries it sweetly and secretly hidden,
+ And knoweth it not herself!
+ But in dreams he stands before her.
+ She implores and weeps and kisses his hands,
+ And calls his name,
+ And calling she awakes, and she lies in affright,
+ And amazed she rubs her beautiful eyes,--
+ She loves him! she loves him!"
+
+ Leaning on the mast on the upper deck,
+ I stood and heard the bird's song.
+ Like blackish-green steeds with silver manes,
+ Leapt the white crisp-curling waves.
+ Like flocks of swans glided past,
+ With gleaming sails, the Helgolands,
+ The bold nomads of the North Sea.
+ Above me in the eternal blue
+ Fluttered white clouds,
+ And sparkled the eternal sun,
+ The Rose of heaven, the fire-blossoming,
+ Which joyously was mirrored in the sea.
+ And the heavens and seas and mine own heart
+ Resounded in echo--
+ She loves him! she loves him!
+
+
+VIII. QUESTION.
+
+ By the sea, by the desolate nocturnal sea,
+ Stands a youthful man,
+ His breast full of sadness, his head full of doubt.
+ And with bitter lips he questions the waves:
+ "Oh solve me the riddle of life!
+ The cruel, world-old riddle,
+ Concerning which, already many a head hath been racked.
+ Heads in hieroglyphic-hats,
+ Heads in turbans and in black caps,
+ Periwigged heads, and a thousand other
+ Poor, sweating human heads.
+ Tell me, what signifies man?
+ Whence does he come? whither does he go?
+ Who dwells yonder above the golden stars?"
+
+ The waves murmur their eternal murmur,
+ The winds blow, the clouds flow past.
+ Cold and indifferent twinkle the stars,
+ And a fool awaits an answer.
+
+
+IX. SEA-SICKNESS.
+
+ The gray afternoon clouds
+ Drop lower over the sea,
+ Which darkly riseth to meet them,
+ And between them both fares the ship.
+
+ Sea-sick I still sit by the mast
+ And all by myself indulge in meditation,
+ Those world-old ashen-gray meditations,
+ Which erst our father Lot entertained,
+ When he had enjoyed too much of a good thing,
+ And afterward suffered such inconvenience.
+ Meanwhile I think also of old stories;
+ How pilgrims with the cross on their breast in days of yore,
+ On their stormy voyages, devoutly kissed
+ The consoling image of the blessed Virgin.
+ How sick knights in such ocean-trials,
+ Pressed to their lips with equal comfort
+ The dear glove of their lady.
+ But I sit and chew in vexation
+ An old herring, my salty comforter,
+ Midst caterwauling and dogged tribulation.
+
+ Meanwhile the ship wrestles
+ With the wild billowy tide.
+ Like a rearing war-horse she stands erect,
+ Upon her stern, till the helm cracks.
+
+ Now crashes she headforemost downward once more
+ Into the howling abyss of waters,
+ Then again, as if recklessly love-languid,
+ She tries to recline
+ On the black bosom of the gigantic waves,
+ Which powerfully seethe upward,
+ And immediately a chaotic ocean-cataract
+ Plunges down in crisp-curling whiteness,
+ And covers me with foam.
+
+ This shaking and swinging and tossing
+ Is unendurable!
+ Vainly mine eye peers forth and seeks
+ The German coast. But alas! only water,
+ And everywhere water--turbulent water!
+
+ Even as the traveller in winter, thirsts
+ For a warm cordial cup of tea,
+ So does my heart now thirst for thee
+ My German fatherland.
+ May thy sweet soil ever be covered
+ With lunacy, hussars and bad verses,
+ And thin, lukewarm treatises.
+ May thy zebras ever be fattened
+ On roses instead of thistles.
+ Ever may thy noble apes
+ Haughtily strut in negligent attire,
+ And esteem themselves better than all other
+ Priggish heavy-footed, horned cattle.
+ May thine assemblies of snails
+ Ever deem themselves immortal
+ Because they crawl forward so slowly;
+ And may they daily convoke in full force,
+ To discuss whether the cheesemould belongs to the cheese;
+ And still longer may they convene
+ To decide how best to honor the Egyptian sheep,
+ So that its wool may improve
+ And it may be shorn like others,
+ With no difference.
+ Forever may folly and wrong
+ Cover thee all over, oh Germany,
+ Nevertheless I yearn towards thee--
+ For at least thou art dry land.
+
+
+X. IN PORT.
+
+ Happy the man who has reached port,
+ And left behind the sea and the tempest,
+ And who now sits, quietly and warm,
+ In the goodly town-cellar of Bremen.
+
+ How pleasantly and cordially
+ The world is mirrored in the wine-glass.
+ And how the waving microcosm
+ Pours sunnily down into the thirsty heart!
+ I see everything in the glass,--
+ Ancient and modern tribes,
+ Turks and Greeks, Hegel and Gans,
+ Citron groves and guard-parades,
+ Berlin and Schilda, and Tunis and Hamburg.
+ Above all the image of my belovèd,
+ The little angel-head against the golden background of Rhine-wine.
+
+ Oh how beautiful! how beautiful thou art, belovèd!
+ Thou art like a rose.
+ Not like the Rose of Shiraz,
+ The Hafiz-besung bride of the nightingale.
+ Not like the Rose of Sharon,
+ The sacred purple extolled by the prophet.
+ Thou art like the rose in the wine-cellar of Bremen.
+ That is the rose of roses,
+ The older it grows the fairer it blooms,
+ And its celestial perfume has inspired me.
+ And did not mine host of the town-cellar of Bremen
+ Hold me fast, fast by my hair,
+ I should tumble head over heels.
+
+ The worthy man! we sat together,
+ And drank like brothers.
+ We spake of lofty, mysterious things,
+ We sighed and sank in each other's arms.
+ And he led me back to the religion of love:
+ I drank to the health of my bitterest enemy,
+ And I forgave all bad poets,
+ As I shall some day hope to be forgiven myself.
+ I wept with fervor of piety, and at last
+ The portals of salvation were opened to me,
+ Where the twelve Apostles, the holy wine-butts,
+ Preach in silence and yet so intelligibly
+ Unto all people.
+
+ Those are men!
+ Without, unseemly in their wooden garb,
+ Within, they are more beautiful and brilliant
+ Than all the haughty Levites of the Temple,
+ And the guards and courtiers of Herod,
+ Decked with gold and arrayed in purple.
+ But I have always averred
+ That not amidst quite common folk--
+ No, in the very best society,
+ Perpetually abides the King of Heaven.
+
+ Hallelujah! How lovely around me
+ Wave the palms of Beth-El!
+ How fragrant are the myrrh-trees of Hebron!
+ How the Jordan rustles and reels with joy!
+ And my immortal soul also reels,
+ And I reel with her, and, reeling,
+ The worthy host of the town-cellar of Bremen
+ Leads me up-stairs into the light of day.
+
+ Thou worthy host of the town-cellar of Bremen,
+ Seest thou on the roofs of the houses,
+ Sit the angels, and they are drunk and they sing.
+ The glowing sun up yonder
+ Is naught but a red drunken nose.
+ The nose of the spirit of the universe,
+ And around the red nose of the spirit of the universe
+ Reels the whole tipsy world.
+
+
+XI. EPILOGUE.
+
+ Like the stalks of wheat in the fields,
+ So flourish and wave in the mind of man
+ His thoughts.
+ But the delicate fancies of love
+ Are like gay little intermingled blossoms
+ Of red and blue flowers.
+
+ Red and blue flowers!
+ The surly reaper rejects you as useless.
+ The wooden flail scornfully thrashes you,
+ Even the luckless traveler,
+ Whom your aspect delights and refreshes,
+ Shakes his head,
+ And calls you beautiful weeds.
+
+ But the rustic maiden,
+ The wearer of garlands,
+ Honors you, and plucks you,
+ And adorns with you her fair locks.
+ And thus decorated she hastens to the dancing-green
+ Where the flutes and fiddles sweetly resound;
+ Or to the quiet bushes
+ Where the voice of her beloved soundeth sweeter still
+ Than fiddles or flutes.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems and Ballads of Heinrich Heine, by
+Heinrich Heine
+
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+ .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+ .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+ .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+ .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+ .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+ .poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+ .poem span.i11 {display: block; margin-left: 11em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+ .poem span.i3 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+ .poem span.i5 {display: block; margin-left: 5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+ .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+ .poem span.i7 {display: block; margin-left: 7em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+ .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+ .poem span.i9 {display: block; margin-left: 9em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+
+ </style>
+ </head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's Poems and Ballads of Heinrich Heine, by Heinrich Heine
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Poems and Ballads of Heinrich Heine
+
+Author: Heinrich Heine
+
+Translator: Emma Lazarus
+
+Release Date: March 21, 2010 [EBook #31726]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS/BALLADS OF HEINRICH HEINE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Meredith Bach and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<h1>POEMS AND BALLADS</h1>
+
+<h6>OF</h6>
+
+<h2>HEINRICH HEINE.</h2>
+
+<h4><i>TRANSLATED BY EMMA LAZARUS.</i></h4>
+
+<h5><small>TO WHICH IS PREFIXED</small><br />
+A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF HEINE.<br />
+<br /><br />
+NEW YORK:<br />
+<big>R. WORTHINGTON, 770 BROADWAY.</big><br />
+1881.</h5>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h5><span class="smcap">Copyright</span>,<br />
+1881,<br />
+<span class="smcap">By</span> EMMA LAZARUS.</h5>
+
+<h6>PRESS OF J. J. LITTLE, &amp; CO.,<br />
+NOS. 10 TO 20 ASTOR PLACE, NEW YORK.</h6>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of Contents">
+<tr>
+ <td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right"><small>PAGE</small></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td colspan="2"><a href="#HEINRICH_HEINE">HEINRICH HEINE, (<small>BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH</small>)</a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_vii">vii</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td colspan="2"><a href="#EARLY_POEMS">EARLY POEMS</a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td><a href="#SONNETS_TO_MY_MOTHER_B_HEINE"><span class="smcap">Sonnets to my Mother, B. Heine</span>, <i>n&eacute;e</i> <span class="smcap">Von Geldern</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td><a href="#SPHINX"><span class="smcap">The Sphinx</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td><a href="#DONNA_CLARA"><span class="smcap">Donna Clara</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td><a href="#DON_RAMIRO"><span class="smcap">Don Ramiro</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td><a href="#TANNHAUSER"><span class="smcap">Tannh&auml;user.</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td><a href="#IN_THE_UNDERWORLD"><span class="smcap">In the Underworld</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td><a href="#THE_VALE_OF_TEARS"><span class="smcap">The Vale of Tears</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td><a href="#SOLOMON"><span class="smcap">Solomon</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td><a href="#MORPHINE"><span class="smcap">Morphine</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td><a href="#SONG1"><span class="smcap">Song</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td><a href="#SONG2"><span class="smcap">Song</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td><a href="#SONG3"><span class="smcap">Song</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td colspan="2"><a href="#HOMEWARD_BOUND">HOMEWARD BOUND</a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[Pg iv]</a></span></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td colspan="2"><a href="#SONGS_TO_SERAPHINE">SONGS TO SERAPHINE</a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_135">135</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td><a href="#TO_ANGELIQUE"><span class="smcap">To Angelique</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td><a href="#SPRING_FESTIVAL"><span class="smcap">Spring Festival</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_156">156</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td><a href="#CHILDE_HAROLD"><span class="smcap">Childe Harold</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_157">157</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td><a href="#THE_ASRA"><span class="smcap">The Asra</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_158">158</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td><a href="#HELENA"><span class="smcap">Helena</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td><a href="#SONG"><span class="smcap">Song</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td colspan="2"><a href="#THE_NORTH_SEA">THE NORTH SEA&mdash;<span class="smcap">First Cyclus</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_165">165</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">I.</td>
+ <td><a href="#CORONATION"><span class="smcap">Coronation</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_165">165</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">II.</td>
+ <td><a href="#TWILIGHT"><span class="smcap">Twilight</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_167">167</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">III.</td>
+ <td><a href="#SUNSET1"><span class="smcap">Sunset</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_168">168</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">IV.</td>
+ <td><a href="#SHORE"><span class="smcap">Night on the Shore</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_171">171</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">V.</td>
+ <td><a href="#POSEIDON"><span class="smcap">Poseidon</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_174">174</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">VI.</td>
+ <td><a href="#DECLARATION"><span class="smcap">Declaration</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_177">177</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">VII.</td>
+ <td><a href="#NIGHT"><span class="smcap">Night in the Cabin</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_179">179</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">VIII.</td>
+ <td><a href="#STORM"><span class="smcap">Storm</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_183">183</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">IX.</td>
+ <td><a href="#CALM"><span class="smcap">Calm</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">X.</td>
+ <td><a href="#APPARITION"><span class="smcap">An Apparition in the Sea</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_187">187</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">XI.</td>
+ <td><a href="#PURIFICATION"><span class="smcap">Purification</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_190">190</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">XII.</td>
+ <td><a href="#PEACE"><span class="smcap">Peace</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_192">192</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td colspan="2"><a href="#SECOND"><span class="smcap">Second Cyclus</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_195">195</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">I.</td>
+ <td><a href="#SALUTATION"><span class="smcap">Salutation to the Sea</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_195">195</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">II.</td>
+ <td><a href="#TEMPEST"><span class="smcap">Tempest</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_198">198</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">III.</td>
+ <td><a href="#WRECKED"><span class="smcap">Wrecked</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_199">199</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">IV.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></td>
+ <td><a href="#SUNSET"><span class="smcap">Sunset</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_202">202</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">V.</td>
+ <td><a href="#OCEANIDES"><span class="smcap">The Song of the Oceanides</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">VI.</td>
+ <td><a href="#GREECE"><span class="smcap">The Gods of Greece</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_209">209</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">VII.</td>
+ <td><a href="#PHOENIX"><span class="smcap">The Ph&#339;nix</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_214">214</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">VIII.</td>
+ <td><a href="#QUESTION"><span class="smcap">Question</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_215">215</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">IX.</td>
+ <td><a href="#SICKNESS"><span class="smcap">Sea-sickness</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_216">216</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">X.</td>
+ <td><a href="#PORT"><span class="smcap">In Port</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_220">220</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+ <td align="right">XI.</td>
+ <td><a href="#EPILOGUE"><span class="smcap">Epilogue</span></a></td>
+ <td align="right"><a href="#Page_223">223</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span></p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="HEINRICH_HEINE" id="HEINRICH_HEINE"></a>HEINRICH HEINE.</h2>
+<h3>(BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.)</h3>
+
+
+<p>Harry Heine, as he was originally named, was born
+in D&uuml;sseldorf on the Rhine, December 13th, 1799. His
+father was a well-to-do Jewish merchant; and his mother,
+the daughter of the famous physician and Aulic Counlor
+Von Geldern, was, according to her son, a "<i>femme
+distingu&eacute;e</i>." His early childhood fell in the days of the
+occupation of D&uuml;sseldorf by the French revolutionary
+troops; and, in the opinion of his biographer Strodtmann,
+the influence of the French rule, thus brought directly to
+bear upon the formation of his character, can scarcely
+be exaggerated. His education was begun at the Franciscan
+monastery of the Jesuits at D&uuml;sseldorf, where the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span>
+teachers were mostly French priests; and his religious instruction
+was at the same time carried on in a private
+Jewish school. His principal companions were Jewish
+children, and he was brought up with a rigid adherence
+to the Hebrew faith. Thus in the very seed-time of his
+mental development were simultaneously sown the germs
+of that Gallic liveliness and mobility which pre-eminently
+distinguish him among German authors, and also of his
+ineradicable sympathy with things Jewish, and his inveterate
+antagonism to the principles and results of
+Christianity.</p>
+
+<p>As the medical profession was in those days the only
+one open to Jews in Germany, the boy Heine was destined
+for a commercial career; and in 1815 his father
+took him to Frankfort to establish him in a banking-house.
+But a brief trial proved that he was utterly unsuited
+to the situation, and after two months he was back
+again in D&uuml;sseldorf. Three years later he went to Hamburg,
+and made another attempt to adopt a mercantile
+pursuit under the auspices of his uncle, the wealthy
+banker Solomon Heine. The millionaire, however, was
+very soon convinced that the "fool of a boy" would
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span>
+never be fit for a counting-house, and declared himself
+willing to furnish his nephew with the means for a three
+years, course at the university, in order to obtain a doctor's
+degree and practice law in Hamburg. It was well-known
+that this would necessitate Harry's adoption of
+Christianity; but his proselytism did not strike those
+whom it most nearly concerned in the same way as it has
+impressed the world. So far from this being the case,
+he wrote in 1823 to his friend Moser: "Here the question
+of baptism enters; none of my family is opposed to
+it except myself; but this <i>myself</i> is of a peculiar nature.
+With my mode of thinking, you can imagine that the
+mere act of baptism is indifferent to me; that even symbolically
+I do not consider it of any importance, and that
+I shall only dedicate myself more entirely to upholding
+the rights of my unhappy brethren. But, nevertheless,
+I find it beneath my dignity and a taint upon my honor,
+to allow myself to be baptized in order to hold office in
+Prussia. I understand very well the Psalmist's words:
+'Good God, give me my daily bread, that I may not
+blaspheme thy name!'"</p>
+
+<p>The uncle's offer was accepted. In 1819 Harry Heine
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</a></span>
+entered the university of Bonn. During his stay in
+Hamburg began his unrequited passion for a cousin who
+lived in that city&mdash;a passion which inspired a large portion
+of his poetry, and indeed gave the keynote to his
+whole tone and spirit. He sings so many different versions
+of the same story of disappointment, that it is impossible
+to ascertain, with all his frank and passionate
+confidences, the true course of the affair. After a few
+months at Bonn, he removed to the university of G&ouml;ttingen,
+which he left in 1822 for Berlin. There is no
+other period in the poet's career on which it is so pleasant
+to linger as on the two years of his residence in the
+Prussian capital. In his first prose work, the <i>Letters
+from Berlin</i>, published in the <i>Rhenish-Westphalian Indicator</i>,
+he has painted a vivid picture of the life and
+gayety of the city during its most brilliant season. "At
+the last rout I was particularly gay, I was so beside myself,
+that I really do not know why I did not walk on
+my head. If my most mortal enemy had crossed my
+path, I should have said to him, To-morrow we will kill
+each other, but to-night I will cordially cover you with
+kisses. <i>Tu es beau, tu es charmant! Tu es l'objet de ma</i>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[Pg xi]</a></span>
+<i>flamme je t'adore, ma belle!</i> these were the words my lips
+repeated instinctively a hundred times; and I pressed
+everybody's hand, and I took off my hat gracefully to
+everybody, and all the men returned my civilities. Only
+one German youth played the boor, and railed against
+what he called my aping the manners of the foreign
+Babylon; and growled out in his old Teutonic, beer-drinking
+bass voice, 'At a <i>cherman</i> masquerade, a <i>Cherman</i>
+should speak <i>Cherman</i>.' Oh German youth! how
+thy words strike me as not only silly, but almost blasphemous
+at such moments, when my soul lovingly embraces
+the entire universe, when I would fain joyfully embrace
+Russians and Turks, and throw myself in tears on the
+breast of my brother the enslaved African!"</p>
+
+<p>The doors of the most delightful, intellectual society
+of Germany were opened to the handsome young poet,
+who is described in a contemporary sketch as "beardless,
+blonde and pale, without any prominent feature in his
+face, but of so peculiar a stamp that he attracted the attention
+at once, and was not readily forgotten."</p>
+
+<p>The daughter of Elise von Hohenhausen, the translator
+of Byron, has given us a charming sketch of her
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[Pg xii]</a></span>
+mother's Thursday evening receptions, which Heine
+regularly attended, and where he read aloud the unpublished
+manuscripts of his <i>Lyrical Intermezzo</i>, and his tragidies,
+<i>Almansor</i> and <i>Ratcliffe</i>. "He was obliged to submit,"
+writes Mlle. von Hohenhausen, "to many a harsh criticism,
+to much severe censure; above all, he was subjected
+to a great deal of chaffing about his poetic sentimentality,
+which a few years later awakened so warm a
+response in the hearts of German youth. The poem, ending,
+<i>Zu deinen s&uuml;ssen F&uuml;ssen</i> ('At thy sweet feet'), met
+with such laughing opposition, that he omitted it from
+the published edition. Opinions of his talents were various;
+a small minority had any suspicion of his future
+undisputed poetical fame. Elise von Hohenhausen, who
+gave him the name of the German Byron, met with many
+contradictions. This recognition, however, assured her an
+imperishable gratitude on Heine's part."</p>
+
+<p>Not only his social and intellectual faculties found
+abundant stimulus in this bracing atmosphere, but his
+moral convictions were directed and strengthened by the
+philosophy and personal influence of Hegel, and his
+sympathies with his own race were aroused to enthusiastic
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[Pg xiii]</a></span>
+activity by the intelligent Jews who were at that
+time laboring in Berlin for the advancement of their oppressed
+brethren. In 1819 had been formed the "Society
+for the Culture and Improvement of the Jews,"
+which, though centered in Berlin, counted members all
+over Prussia, as well as in Vienna, Copenhagen, and New
+York. Heine joined it in 1822, and became one of its
+most influential members. In the educational establishment
+of the <i>Verein</i>, he gave for several months three
+hours of historical instruction a week. He frankly confessed
+that he, the "born enemy of all positive religions,"
+was no enthusiast for the Hebrew faith, but he was none
+the less eager to proclaim himself an enthusiast for the
+rights of the Jews and their civil equality.</p>
+
+<p>During his brief visit to Frankfort, he had had personal
+experience of the degrading conditions to which
+his people were subjected.</p>
+
+<p>The contrast between his choice of residence for
+twenty-five years in Paris, and the tenacity with which
+Goethe clung to his home, is not as strongly marked as
+the contrast between the relative positions in Frankfort
+of these two men. Goethe, the grandson of the honored
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">[Pg xiv]</a></span>
+chief-magistrate, surrounded in his cheerful burgher-life,
+as Carlyle says, by "kind plenty, secure affection, manifold
+excitement and instruction," might well cherish
+golden memories of his native city. For him, the gloomy
+<i>Judengasse</i>, which he occasionally passed, where "squalid,
+painful Hebrews were banished to scour old clothes," was
+but a dark spot that only heightened the prevailing
+brightness of the picture. But to this wretched by-way
+was relegated that other beauty-enamored, artist-soul,
+Heine, when he dared set foot in the imperial Free
+Town. Here must he be locked in like a wild beast,
+with his miserable brethren every Sunday afternoon. And
+if the restrictions were a little less barbarous in other
+parts of Germany, yet how shall we characterize a
+national policy which closed to such a man as Heine
+every career that could give free play to his genius, and
+offered him the choice between money changing and
+medicine?</p>
+
+<p>It was not till he had exhausted every means of endeavoring
+to secure a remission of the humiliating decree
+that he consented to the public act of apostasy, and
+was baptized in the summer of 1825 in the Lutheran
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xv" id="Page_xv">[Pg xv]</a></span>
+parsonage of Heiligenstadt with the name of Johann
+Christian Heinrich. During the period of his earnest
+labors for Judaism, he had buried himself with fervid
+zeal in the lore of his race, and had conceived the idea
+of a prose-legend, the <i>Rabbi of Bacharach</i>, illustrating the
+persecutions of his people during the middle ages. Accounts
+vary as to the fate of this work; some affirm that
+the manuscript was destroyed in a fire at Hamburg, and
+others that the three chapters which the world possesses
+are all that were ever completed. Heine, one of the
+most subjective of poets, treats this theme in a purely
+objective manner. He does not allow himself a word of
+comment, much less of condemnation concerning the
+outrages he depicts. He paints the scene as an artist,
+not as the passionate fellow-sufferer and avenger that he
+is. But what subtle eloquence lurks in that restrained
+cry of horror and indignation which never breaks forth,
+and yet which we feel through every line, gathering itself
+up like thunder on the horizon for a terrific outbreak at
+the end!</p>
+
+<p>Would that we could hear the explosion burst at last!
+We long for it throughout as the climax and the necessary
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xvi" id="Page_xvi">[Pg xvi]</a></span>
+result of the lowering electric influences of the story, and
+we lay aside the never-to-be completed fragment with the
+oppression of a nightmare. But a note of such tremendous
+power as Heine had struck in this romance, required
+for its prolonged sustention a singleness of purpose
+and an exaltation of belief in its efficacy and truth,
+which he no longer possessed after his renunciation of
+Judaism. He was no longer at one with himself, for no
+sooner was the irrevocable step taken than it was bitterly
+repented, not as a recantation of his principles&mdash;for as
+such, no one who follows the development of his mind
+can regard it,&mdash;but as an unworthy concession to tyrannic
+injustice. How sensitive he remained in respect to
+the whole question is proved most conspicuously by his
+refraining on all occasions from signing his Christian
+name, Heinrich. Even his works he caused to appear
+under the name of H. Heine, and was once extremely
+angry with his publisher for allowing by mistake the full
+name to be printed.</p>
+
+<p>The collection of poems in prose and verse known as
+the <i>Reisebilder</i>, embraced several years of Heine's literary
+activity, and represent widely-varying phases of his
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xvii" id="Page_xvii">[Pg xvii]</a></span>
+intellectual development. We need only turn to the
+volumes themselves to guess how bitter an experience
+must have filled the gap between the buoyant stream of
+sunny inspiration that ripples through the <i>Harz-Reise</i>,
+and the fierce spirit of vindictive malice which prompted
+Heine, six years later, to conclude his third and last volume
+with his unseemly diatribe against Count Platen.
+Notwithstanding their inequalities, the <i>Reisebilder</i> remain
+one of the surest props of Heine's fame. So
+clear and perfect an utterance is sufficiently rare in all
+languages; but it becomes little short of a miracle when,
+as in this case, the medium of its transmission is German
+prose, a vehicle so bulky and unwieldy that no one before
+Heine had dared to enlist it in the service of airy
+phantasy, delicate humor and sparkling wit.</p>
+
+<p>During the summer of 1830, while he was loitering at
+Helgoland, he was roused to feverish excitement by the
+news of the July Revolution. He inveighed against the
+nobility in a preface to a pamphlet, called <i>Kahldorf on
+the Nobility</i>, which largely increased the number of his
+powerful enemies. The literary censorship had long
+mutilated his prose writings, besides materially diminishing
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xviii" id="Page_xviii">[Pg xviii]</a></span>
+his legitimate income by prohibiting the sale of many
+of his works. He now began to fear that his personal
+liberty would be restricted as summarily as his literary
+activity; and in May, 1831, he took up his residence
+in Paris. He perfected himself in the French language,
+and by his brilliant essays on French art, German philosophy,
+and the Romantic School, soon acquired the
+reputation of one of the best prose writers of France, and
+the "wittiest Frenchman since Voltaire." He became
+deeply interested in the doctrine of St. Simonism, then at
+its culminating point in Paris. Its central idea of the
+rehabilitation of the flesh, and the sacredness of labor,
+found an enthusiastic champion in him who had so long
+denounced the impracticable spiritualism of Christianity.
+He, the logical clear-headed sceptic in all matters pertaining
+to existing systems and creeds, seems possessed
+with the credulity of a child in regard to every scheme
+of human regeneration, or shall we call it the exaltation
+of the Jew, for whom the Messiah has not yet arrived,
+but is none the less confidently and hourly expected?
+Embittered by repeated disappointments, by his enforced
+exile, by a nervous disease which had afflicted him from
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xix" id="Page_xix">[Pg xix]</a></span>
+his youth, and was now fast gaining upon him, and by
+the impending shadow of actual want, Heine's tone now
+assumes a concentrated acridity, and his poetry acquires
+a reckless audacity of theme and treatment. His <i>Neue
+Lieder</i>, addressed to notorious Parisian women, were
+regarded as an insult to decency. In literary merit
+many of them vie with the best of his earlier songs;
+but the daring defiance of public opinion displayed in
+the choice of subject excluded all other criticism than
+that of indignation and rebuke. There is but a single
+ray to lighten the gathering gloom of Heine's life at this
+period. In a letter dated, April 11th, 1835, occurs his
+first mention of his <i>liaison</i> with the grisette Mathilde
+Crescence Mirat, who afterwards became his wife. This
+uneducated, simple-hearted, affectionate child-wife inspired
+in the poet, weary of intellectual strife, a love as
+tender and constant as it had been sudden and passionate.
+A variety of circumstances having combined to reduce
+Heine to extreme want, he had recourse to a step
+which has been very severely censured. He applied for
+and received from the French government a pension
+from the fund set aside for "all those who by their zeal
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xx" id="Page_xx">[Pg xx]</a></span>
+for the cause of the Revolution had more or less compromised
+themselves at home or abroad." Now that the
+particulars of the case are so well known, it would be superfluous
+to add any words of justification; it can only
+excite our sympathy for the haughty poet doomed to drain
+so bitter a cup. He was pressed to take the oath of naturalization,
+but he had too painful experience of the renunciation
+of his birthright ever to consent to a repetition
+of his error. He would not forfeit the right to have inscribed
+upon his tomb-stone: "Here lies a German poet."</p>
+
+<p>In 1844 his uncle Solomon died; and, as there was no
+stipulation in the banker's will that the yearly allowance
+hitherto granted to Heinrich should continue, the oldest
+heir Karl announced that this would altogether cease.
+This very cousin Karl had been nursed by Heine at the
+risk of his own life during the cholera-plague of 1832 in
+Paris. The grief and excitement caused by his kinsman's
+ingratitude fearfully accelerated the progress of the malady
+which had long been gaining upon the poet, and
+which proved to be a softening of the spinal cord.
+One eye was paralyzed, he lost the sense of taste, and
+complained that everything he ate was like clay. His
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxi" id="Page_xxi">[Pg xxi]</a></span>
+physicians agreed that he had few weeks to live, and he
+felt that he was dying, little divining that the agony was
+to be prolonged for ten horrible years. It is unnecessary
+to dwell upon these years of darkness, in which
+Heine, shriveled to the proportions of a child, languished
+upon his "mattress-grave" in Paris. His patient
+resignation, his indomitable will, his sweetness and
+gayety of temper, and his unimpaired vigor and fertility
+of intellect, are too fresh in the memory of many living
+witnesses, and have been too frequently and recently described
+to make it needful here to enlarge upon them.
+In the crucial hour he proved no recreant to the convictions
+for which he had battled and bled during a lifetime.
+Of the report that his illness had materially modified
+his religious opinions, he has left a complete and
+emphatic denial. "I must expressly contradict the rumor
+that I have retreated to the threshold of any sort of
+church, or that I have reposed upon its bosom. No!
+My religious views and convictions have remained free
+from all churchdom; no belfry chime has allured me, no
+altar taper has dazzled me. I have trifled with no symbol,
+and have not utterly renounced my reason. I have
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxii" id="Page_xxii">[Pg xxii]</a></span>
+forsworn nothing&mdash;not even my old pagan-gods, from
+whom it is true I have parted, but parted in love and
+friendship."</p>
+
+<p>"I am no longer a divine biped," he wrote. "I am
+no longer the freest German after Goethe, as Ruge
+named me in healthier days. I am no longer the great
+hero No. 2, who was compared with the grape-crowned
+Dionysius, whilst my colleague No. 1 enjoyed the title of
+a Grand Ducal Wlimarian Jupiter. I am no longer a
+joyous, somewhat corpulent Hellenist, laughing cheerfully
+down upon the melancholy Nazarenes. I am now
+a poor fatally-ill Jew, an emaciated picture of woe, an
+unhappy man."</p>
+
+<p>Thus side by side flowed on the continuous streams of
+that wit and pathos which he poured forth inexhaustibly
+to the very end. No word of complaint or impatience
+ever passed his lips; on the contrary, with his old, irresistible
+humor, his fancy played about his own privations
+and sufferings, and tried to alleviate for his devoted wife
+and friends the pain of the heart-rending spectacle.
+His delicate consideration prompted him to spare his
+venerable mother all knowledge of his illness. He wrote
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxiii" id="Page_xxiii">[Pg xxiii]</a></span>
+to her every month in his customary cheerful way; and, in
+sending her the latest volumes of his poetry, he caused a
+separate copy always to be printed, from which all allusions
+to his malady were expunged. "For that matter,"
+he said, "that any son could be as wretched and miserable
+as I, no mother would believe."</p>
+
+<p>Alas! if he had known how much more eloquent and
+noble a refutation his life would afford than his mistaken
+passionate response to the imputations of his enemies!
+Is this patient martyr the man of whom B&ouml;rne wrote:
+"with his sybarite nature, the fall of a rose-leaf can
+disturb Heine's slumber. He whom all asperities fatigue,
+whom all discords trouble, let such a one neither move
+nor think&mdash;let him go to bed and shut his eyes."</p>
+
+<p>Only in his last poems, which were not to be published
+till after his death, has Heine given free vent to the bitterness
+of his anguish. During the long sleepless night
+when he lay writhing with pain or exhausted by previous
+paroxysms, his mind, preternaturally clear and vigorous,
+conceived the glowing fantasies of the <i>Romancero</i>, or the
+Job-like lamentations of the <i>Lazarus</i> poems. This
+mental exercise was his protection against insanity: and
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxiv" id="Page_xxiv">[Pg xxiv]</a></span>
+the thought of his cherished wife, he affirmed, was his
+only safeguard against the delirious desire to seize the
+morphine bottle by his side, and with one draught put
+an end to his agony. On the night of the 16th of February,
+1856, came the long-craved release&mdash;and on the
+20th of February without mass or "Kaddish," according
+to his express wish, he was buried in the cemetery of
+Montmartre.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="EARLY_POEMS" id="EARLY_POEMS"></a>EARLY POEMS.</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="SONNETS_TO_MY_MOTHER_B_HEINE" id="SONNETS_TO_MY_MOTHER_B_HEINE"></a>SONNETS TO MY MOTHER, B. HEINE,<br />
+<small><i>n&eacute;e</i> VON GELDERN.</small></h2>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">I have been wont to bear my forehead high&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My stubborn temper yields with no good grace.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The king himself might look me in the face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And yet I would not downward cast mine eye.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But I confess, dear mother, openly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">However proud my haughty spirit swell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I within thy blessed presence dwell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Oft am I smit with shy humility.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is it thy soul, with secret influence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy lofty soul piercing all shows of sense,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which soareth, heaven-born, to heaven again?<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Or springs it from sad memories that tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How many a time I caused thy dear heart pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thy gentle heart, that loveth me so well!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p>
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">In fond delusion once I left thy side;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unto the wide world's end I fain would fare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see if I might find Love anywhere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And lovingly embrace Love as a bride.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Love sought I in all paths, at every gate;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oft and again outstretching suppliant palms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I begged in vain of Love the slightest alms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But the world laughed and offered me cold hate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forever I aspired towards Love, forever<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Towards Love, and ne'ertheless I found Love never,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sick at heart, homeward my steps did move.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lo! thou comest forth to welcome me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that which in thy swimming eyes I see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That is the precious, the long-looked-for Love.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="SPHINX" id="SPHINX"></a>THE SPHINX.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This is the old enchanted wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sweet lime trees scent the wind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The glamor of the moon has cast<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A spell upon my mind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Onward I walk, and as I walk&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hark to that high, soft strain!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That is the nightingale, she sings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of love and of love's pain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She sings of love and of love's pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of laughter and of tears.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So plaintive her carol, so joyous her sobs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I dream of forgotten years.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Onward I walk, and as I walk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There stands before mine eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A castle proud on an open lawn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Whose gables high uprise.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With casements closed, and everywhere<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sad silence in court and halls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It seemed as though mute death abode<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Within those barren walls.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Before the doorway crouched a sphinx,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Half horror and half grace;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a lion's body, a lion's claws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And a woman's breast and face.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A woman fair! The marble glance<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Spake wild desire and guile.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The silent lips were proudly curled<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In a confident, glad smile.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The nightingale, she sang so sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I yielded to her tone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I touched, I kissed the lovely face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And lo, I was undone!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The marble image stirred with life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The stone began to move;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She drank my fiery kisses' glow<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With panting thirsty love.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She well nigh drank my breath away;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And, lustful still for more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Embraced me, and my shrinking flesh<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With lion claws she tore.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, rapturous martyrdom! ravishing pain!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Oh, infinite anguish and bliss!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With her horrible talons she wounded me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">While she thrilled my soul with a kiss.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The nightingale sang: "Oh beautiful sphinx.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Oh love! what meaneth this?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That thou minglest still the pangs of death<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With thy most peculiar bliss?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou beautiful Sphinx, oh solve for me<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">This riddle of joy and tears!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I have pondered it over again and again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">How many thousand years!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="DONNA_CLARA" id="DONNA_CLARA"></a>DONNA CLARA.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the evening through her garden<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wanders the Alcalde's daughter;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Festal sounds of drum and trumpet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ring out hither from the castle.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I am weary of the dances,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Honeyed words of adulation<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the knights who still compare me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the sun,&mdash;with dainty phrases.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Yes, of all things I am weary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since I first beheld by moonlight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Him my cavalier, whose zither<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nightly draws me to my casement.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"As he stands, so slim and daring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With his flaming eyes that sparkle<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From his nobly-pallid features,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Truly he St. George resembles."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thus went Donna Clara dreaming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the ground her eyes were fastened,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When she raised them, lo! before her<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stood the handsome, knightly stranger.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Pressing hands and whispering passion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These twain wander in the moonlight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gently doth the breeze caress them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The enchanted roses greet them.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The enchanted roses greet them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they glow like love's own heralds;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Tell me, tell me, my belov&egrave;d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherefore, all at once thou blushest."<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Gnats were stinging me, my darling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I hate these gnats in summer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">E'en as though they were a rabble<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of vile Jews with long, hooked noses."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Heed not gnats nor Jews, belov&egrave;d,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spake the knight with fond endearments.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the almond-tree dropped downward<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Myriad snowy flakes of blossoms.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Myriad snowy flakes of blossoms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shed around them fragrant odors.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Tell me, tell me, my belov&egrave;d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Looks thy heart on me with favor?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Yes, I love thee, oh my darling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I swear it by our Savior,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whom the accurs&egrave;d Jews did murder<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long ago with wicked malice."<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Heed thou neither Jews nor Savior,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spake the knight with fond endearments;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far-off waved as in a vision<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gleaming lilies bathed in moonlight.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Gleaming lilies bathed in moonlight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seemed to watch the stars above them.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Tell me, tell me, my belov&egrave;d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Didst thou not erewhile swear falsely?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Naught is false in me, my darling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">E'en as in my bosom floweth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not a drop of blood that's Moorish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neither of foul Jewish current."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Heed not Moors nor Jews, belov&egrave;d,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spake the knight with fond endearments.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then towards a grove of myrtles<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Leads he the Alcalde's daughter.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And with love's slight, subtle meshes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He hath trapped her and entangled;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brief their words, but long their kisses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For their hearts are overflowing.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What a melting bridal carol,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sings the nightingale, the pure one!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How the fire-flies in the grasses<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Trip their sparkling, torch-light dances!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the grove the silence deepens;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Naught is heard save furtive rustling<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the swaying myrtle branches,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the breathing of the flowers.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the sound of drum and trumpet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Burst forth sudden from the castle.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rudely they awaken Clara,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pillowed on her lover's bosom.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Hark, they summon me, my darling.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But before I go, oh tell me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tell me what thy precious name is,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which so closely thou hast hidden."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And the knight, with gentle laughter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kissed the fingers of his donna,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kissed her lips and kissed her forehead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at last these words he uttered:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I, Se&ntilde;ora, your belov&egrave;d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Am the son of the respected<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Worthy, erudite Grand Rabbi,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Israel of Saragossa!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="DON_RAMIRO" id="DON_RAMIRO"></a>DON RAMIRO.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Donna Clara! Donna Clara!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hotly-loved through years of passion!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou hast wrought me mine undoing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hast wrought it without mercy!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Donna Clara! Donna Clara!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still the gift of life is pleasant.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But beneath the earth 'tis frightful,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the grave so cold and darksome.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Donna Clara! Laugh, be merry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to-morrow shall Fernando<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Greet thee at the nuptial altar.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wilt thou bid me to the wedding?"<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Don Ramiro! Don Ramiro!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Very bitter sounds thy language,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bitterer than the stars' decrees are,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which bemock my heart's desire.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Don Ramiro! Don Ramiro!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cast aside thy gloomy temper.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the world are many maidens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But us twain the Lord hath parted.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Don Ramiro, thou who bravely<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Many and many a man hast conquered,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Conquer now thyself,&mdash;to-morrow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come and greet me at my wedding."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Donna Clara! Donna Clara!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yes, I swear it. I am coming.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I will dance with thee the measure.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now good-night! I come to-morrow."<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"So good-night!" The casement rattled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sighing neath it, stood Ramiro.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long he stood a stony statue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then amidst the darkness vanished.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">After long and weary struggling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Night must yield unto the daylight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like a many-colored garden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lies the city of Toledo.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Palaces and stately fabrics<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shimmer in the morning sunshine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the lofty domes of churches<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glitter as with gold incrusted.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Humming like a swarm of insects,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ring the bells their festal carol.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With sweet tones the sacred anthem<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From each house of God ascendeth.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But behold, behold! beyond there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yonder from the market-chapel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a billowing and a swaying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Streams the motley throng of people.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Gallant knights and noble ladies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In their holiday apparel;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the pealing bells ring clearly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the deep-voiced organ murmurs.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But a reverential passage<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the people's midst is opened,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the richly-clad young couple,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Donna Clara, Don Fernando.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To the bridegroom's palace-threshold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wind the waving throngs of people;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There the wedding feast beginneth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pompous in the olden fashion.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Knightly games and open table,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Interspersed with joyous laughter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quickly flying, speed the hours,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till the night again hath fallen.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And the wedding-guests assemble<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the dance within the palace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And their many-colored raiment<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glitters in the light of tapers.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Seated on a lofty dais,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Side by side, are bride and bridegroom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Donna Clara, Don Fernando,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they murmur sweet love-whispers.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And within the hall wave brightly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the gay-decked streams of dancers;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the rolling drums are beaten.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shrill the clamorous trumpet soundeth.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Wherefore, wherefore, beauteous lady,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are thy lovely glances fastened<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yonder in the hall's far corner?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In amazement asked Fernando.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"See'st thou not, oh Don Fernando,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yonder man in sable mantle?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the knight spake, kindly smiling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Why, 'tis nothing but a shadow."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the shadow drew anear them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twas a man in sable mantle.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Clara knows at once Ramiro,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she greets him, blushing crimson.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And the dance begins already,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gaily whirl around the dancers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the waltz's reckless circles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till the firm floor creaks and trembles.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Yes, with pleasure, Don Ramiro,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I will dance with thee the measure;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But in such a night-black mantle<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou shouldst never have come hither."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With fixed, piercing eyes, Ramiro<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gazes on the lovely lady.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then embracing her, speaks strangely,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"At thy bidding I came hither."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the wild whirl of the measure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Press and turn the dancing couple,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the rolling drums are beaten,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shrill the clamorous trumpet soundeth.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"White as driven snow thy cheeks are!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whispers Clara, inly trembling.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"At thy bidding I came hither,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hollow ring Ramiro's accents.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the hall the tapers flicker,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the eddying stream of dancers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the rolling drums are beaten,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shrill the clamorous trumpet soundeth.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Cold as ice I feel thy fingers,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whispers Clara, thrilled with terror.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"At thy bidding I came hither."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they rush on in the vortex.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Leave me, leave me, Don Ramiro!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like a corpse's scent thy breath is."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Once again the gloomy sentence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"At thy bidding I came hither."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And the firm floor glows and rustles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Merry sound the horns and fiddles;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like a woof of strange enchantment,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All within the hall is whirling.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Leave me, leave me, Don Ramiro!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All is waving and revolving.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Don Ramiro still repeateth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"At thy bidding I came hither."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"In the name of God, begone then!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Clara shrieked, with steadfast accent.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the word was scarcely spoken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Ramiro had evanished.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Clara stiffens! deathly pallid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Numb with cold, with night encompassed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In a swoon the lovely creature<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the shadowy realm is wafted.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the misty slumber passes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at last she lifts her eyelids.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then again from sheer amazement<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her fair eyes at once she closes.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For she sees she hath not risen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since the dance's first beginning.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still she sits beside the bridegroom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he speaks with anxious question.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Say, why waxed thy cheek so pallid?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherefore filled thine eyes with shadows?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"And Ramiro?" stammers Clara,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And her tongue is glued with horror.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But with deep and serious furrows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is the bridegroom's forehead wrinkled.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Lady, ask not bloody tidings&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Don Ramiro died this morning."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="TANNHAUSER" id="TANNHAUSER"></a>TANNH&Auml;USER.</h2>
+
+<h3>A LEGEND.</h3>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Good Christians all, be not entrapped<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In Satan's cunning snare.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I sing the lay of Tannh&auml;user,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To bid your souls beware.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Brave Tannh&auml;user, a noble knight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Would love and pleasure win.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These lured him to the Venusberg.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Seven years he bode therein.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Dame Venus, loveliest of dames,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Farewell, my life, my bride.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh give me leave to part from thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">No longer may I bide."<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"My noble knight, my Tannh&auml;user,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou'st kissed me not to-day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come, kiss me quick, and tell me now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">What lack'st thou here, I pray?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Have I not poured the sweetest wine<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Daily for thee, my spouse?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And have I not with roses, dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Each day enwreathed thy brows?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Dame Venus, loveliest of dames,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My soul is sick, I swear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of kisses, roses and sweet wine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And craveth bitter fare.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"We have laughed and jested far too much,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And I yearn for tears this morn.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would that my head no rose-wreath wore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But a crown of sharpest thorn."<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"My noble knight, my Tannh&auml;user,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To vex me thou art fain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hast thou not sworn a thousand times<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To leave me never again?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Come! to my chamber let us go;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Our love shall be secret there.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thy gloomy thoughts shall vanish at sight<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of my lily-white body fair."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Dame Venus, loveliest of dames,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Immortal thy charms remain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As many have loved thee ere to-day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So many shall love again.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"But when I think of the heroes and gods,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who feasted long ago,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon thy lily-white body fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then sad at heart I grow.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thy lily-white body filleth me<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With loathing, for I see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How many more in years to come<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Shall enjoy thee, after me."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"My noble knight, my Tannh&auml;user,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Such words thou should'st not say.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far liefer had I thou dealt'st me a blow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As often ere this day.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Far liefer had I thou should'st strike me low,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Than such an insult speak;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cold, thankless Christian that thou art,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thus the pride of my heart to break.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Because I have loved thee far too well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To hear such words is my fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Farewell! I give thee free leave to go.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Myself, I open the gate!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p>
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In Rome, in Rome, in the holy town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To the music of chimes and of song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A stately procession moves,&mdash;the Pope<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Strides in the midst of the throng.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This is the pious Pope Urbain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The triple crown he wears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The crimson robe,&mdash;and many a lord<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The train of his garment bears.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh, holy Father, Pope Urbain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I have a tale to tell;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I stir not hence, till thou shrivest me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And savest me from hell."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The people stand in a circle near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the priestly anthems cease;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who is the pilgrim wan and wild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who falleth upon his knees?<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh, holy Father, Pope Urbain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who canst bind and loose as well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now save me from the evil one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And from the pains of hell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I am the noble Tannh&auml;user,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who love and lust would win,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These lured me to the Venusberg,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Seven years I bode therein.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Dame Venus is a beauteous dame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Her charms have a subtle glow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like sunshine with fragrance of flowers blent<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Is her voice so soft and low.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"As the butterfly flutters anigh a flower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From its delicate chalice sips,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In such wise ever fluttered my soul<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Anigh to her rosy lips.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Her rich black ringlets floating loose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Her noble face enwreath.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When once her large eyes rest on thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou canst not stir nor breathe.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"When once her large eyes rest on thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With chains thou art bounden fast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twas only in sorest need I chanced<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To flee from her hill at last.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"From her hill at last I have escaped,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But through all the livelong day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those beautiful eyes still follow me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">'Come back!' they seem to say.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"A lifeless ghost all day I pine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But at night I dream of my bride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then my spirit awakes in me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">She laughs and sits by my side.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"How hearty, how happy, how reckless her laugh!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">How the pearly white teeth outpeep!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah! when I remember that laugh of hers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then sudden tears must I weep.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I love her, I love her with all my might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And nothing my love can stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis like to a rushing cataract,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Whose force no man can sway.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"For it dashes on from cliff to cliff,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And roareth and foameth still.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though it break its neck a thousand times,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Its course it would yet fulfill.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Were all of the boundless heavens mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I would give them all to her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I would give her the sun, I would give her the moon<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And each star in its shining sphere.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I love her, I love her with all my might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With a flame that devoureth me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can these be already the fires of hell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That shall glow eternally?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh, holy Father, Pope Urbain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who canst bind and loose as well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now save me from the evil one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And from the pains of hell!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sadly the Pope upraised his hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sadly began to speak:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Tannh&auml;user, most wretched of all men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">This spell thou canst not break.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The devil called Venus is the worst<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Amongst all we name as such.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And nevermore canst thou be redeemed<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From the beautiful witch's clutch.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Thou with thy spirit must atone<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For the joys thou hast loved so well;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Accursed art thou! thou are condemned<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Unto everlasting hell!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So quickly fared Sir Tannh&auml;user,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">His feet were bleeding and torn&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Back to the Venusberg he came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ere the earliest streak of morn.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dame Venus, awakened from her sleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From her bed upsprang in haste.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Already she hath with her arms so white<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Her darling spouse embraced.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Forth from her nose outstreams the blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The tears from her eyelids start;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She moistens the face of her darling spouse<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With the tears and blood of her heart.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The knight lay down upon her bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And not a word he spake;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dame Venus to the kitchen went<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A bowl of broth to make.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She gave him broth, she gave him bread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">She bathed his wounded feet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She combed for him his matted hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And laughed so low and sweet:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"My noble knight, my Tannh&auml;user,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Long hast thou left my side.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now tell me in what foreign lands<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So long thou couldst abide."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Dame Venus, loveliest of dames,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I tarried far from home.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Rome I had some business, dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But quickly back have come.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"On seven hills great Rome is built,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The Tiber flows to the sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And while in Rome I saw the Pope;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He sent his love to thee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Through Florence led my journey home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Through Milan, too, I passed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And glad at heart, through Switzerland<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I clambered back at last.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"But as I went across the Alps,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The snow began to fall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Below, the blue lakes smiled on me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I heard the eagles call.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"When I upon St. Gothard stood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I heard the Germans snore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For softly slumbered there below<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Some thirty kings and more.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"To Frankfort I on <i>Schobbas</i> came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where dumplings were my food.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They have the best religion there:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Goose-giblets, too, are good.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"In Weimar, the widowed muse's seat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Midst general grief I arrive.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The people are crying 'Goethe's dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And Eckermann's still alive!'"<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a>
+There are eight more verses to this poem, which I take the liberty of omitting.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 32em;">E. L.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="IN_THE_UNDERWORLD" id="IN_THE_UNDERWORLD"></a>IN THE UNDERWORLD.</h2>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"O to be a bachelor!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Pluto now forever sighs.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"In my marriage miseries,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I perceive, without a wife<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hell was not a hell before.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"O to be a bachelor!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Since my Proserpine is mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Daily for my grave I pine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When she raileth I can hear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Barking Cerberus no more.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"My poor heart needs rest and ease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the realm of shades I cry,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">No lost soul is sad as I.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sisyphus I envy now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the fair Dana&iuml;des."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p>
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the realm of shades, on a throne of gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the side of her royal spouse, behold<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fair Proserpine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With gloomy mien,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While deep sighs upheave her bosom.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The roses, the passionate song I miss<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the nightingale; yea, and the sun's warm kiss.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Midst the Lemur's dread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the ghostly dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now withers my life's young blossom.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I am fast in the yoke of marriage bound<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To this curs&egrave;d rat-hole underground.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Through my window at night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Peers each ghostly sprite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the Styx murmurs lower and lower.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"To-day I have Charon invited to dinner,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He is bald, and his limbs they grow thinner and thinner,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the judges, beside,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the dead, dismal-eyed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In such company I shall grow sour."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Whilst their grievance each is venting<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the underworld below,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ceres, on the earth lamenting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Wrathful wanders to and fro.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With no hood in sloven fashion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Neither mantle o'er her gown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She declaims that lamentation<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Unto all of us well-known;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Is the blessed spring-tide here?<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Has the earth again grown young?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Green the sunny hills appear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the icy band is sprung.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Mirrored from the clear blue river.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Zeus, unclouded, laugheth out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Softer zephyr's wings now quiver,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Buds upon the fresh twig sprout."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the hedge a new refrain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Call the Oreads from the shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"All thy flowers come again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But thy daughter comes no more."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, how many weary days<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I have sought o'er wide earth's space.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Titan, all thy sunny rays<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I have sent on her dear trace.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet not one renews assurance<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of the darling face I wot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Day, that finds all things, the durance<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of my lost one, findeth not.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Hast thou ravished, Zeus, my daughter?<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Or, love-smitten by her charms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hath, o'er Orcus's night-black water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Pluto snatched her in his arms?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Who towards that gloomy strand<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Herald of my grief will be?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ever floats the bark from land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Bearing phantoms ceaselessly.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Closed those shadowy fields are ever<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Unto any bless&egrave;d sight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since the Styx hath been a river,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">It hath borne no living wight.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"There are thousand stairs descending,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But not one leads upward there.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To her tears no token lending,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">At the anxious mother's prayer."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p>
+<h4>IV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, my mother-in-law, Ceres,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Cease thy cries, no longer mourn.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I will grant thee, what so dear is,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I myself so much have borne.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Take thou comfort. We will fairly<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thy child's ownership divide;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for six moons shall she yearly<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the upper world abide.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Help thee through long summer hours<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In thy husbandry affairs;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Binding up for thee the flowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">While a new straw-hat she wears.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She will dream when twilight pleasant<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Colors all the sky with rose;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When by brooks some clownish peasant<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sweetly on his sheep's pipe blows.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Not a harvest dance without her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">She will frisk with Jack and Bess;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Midst the geese and calves about her<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">She will prove a lioness.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hail, sweet rest! I breathe free, single,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Here in Orcus far from strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Punch with Lethe I will mingle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And forget I have a wife.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>V.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At times thy glance appeareth to importune,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As though thou didst some secret longing prove.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alas, too well I know it,&mdash;thy misfortune<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A life frustrated, a frustrated love.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How sad thine eyes are! Yet have I no power<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To give thee back thy youth with pleasure rife;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Incurably thy heart must ache each hour<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For love frustrated and frustrated life.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_VALE_OF_TEARS" id="THE_VALE_OF_TEARS"></a>THE VALE OF TEARS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The night wind through the crannies pipes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And in the garret lie<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Two wretched creatures on the straw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As gaunt as poverty.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And one poor creature speaks and says,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"Embrace me with thine arm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And press thy mouth against my mouth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thy breath will keep me warm."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The other starveling speaks and says,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"When I look into thine eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pain, cold and hunger disappear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And all my miseries."<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They kissed full oft, still more they wept,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Clasped hands, sighed deep and fast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They often laughed, they even sang,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And both were still at last.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With morning came the coroner,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And brought a worthy leech,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On either corpse to certify<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The cause of death of each.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The nipping weather, he affirmed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Had finished the deceased.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their empty stomachs also caused,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Or hastened death at last.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He added that when frost sets in<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">'Tis needful that the blood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be warmed with flannels; one should have,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Moreover, wholesome food.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="SOLOMON" id="SOLOMON"></a>SOLOMON.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dumb are the trumpets, cymbals, drums and shawms to-night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The angel shapes engirdled with the sword,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">About the royal tent keep watch and ward,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Six thousand to the left, six thousand to the right.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They guard the king from evil dreams, from death.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Behold! a frown across his brow they view.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then all at once, like glimmering flames steel-blue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Twelve thousand brandished swords leap from the sheath.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But back into their scabbards drop the swords<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of the angelic host; the midnight pain<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hath vanished, the king's brow is smooth again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hark! the royal sleeper's murmured words:<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"O Shulamite, the lord of all these lands am I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">This empire is the heritage I bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For I am Judah's king and Israel's king;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But if thou love me not, I languish and I die."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="MORPHINE" id="MORPHINE"></a>MORPHINE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Marked is the likeness 'twixt the beautiful<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And youthful brothers, albeit one appear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far paler than the other, more serene;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yea, I might almost say, far comelier<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than his dear brother, who so lovingly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Embraced me in his arms. How tender, soft<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seemed then his smile, and how divine his glance!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No wonder that the wreath of poppy-flowers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About his head brought comfort to my brow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with its mystic fragrance soothed all pain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From out my soul. But such delicious balm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A little while could last. I can be cured<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Completely only when that other youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The grave, pale brother, drops at last his torch.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lo, sleep is good, better is death&mdash;in sooth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The best of all were never to be born.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="SONG1" id="SONG1"></a>SONG.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oft in galleries of art<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou hast seen a knight perchance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eager for the wars to start,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Well-equipped with shield and lance.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Him the frolic loves have found,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Robbed him of his sword and spear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with chains of flowers have bound<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Their unwilling chevalier.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Held by such sweet hindrances,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Wreathed with bliss and pain, I stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While my comrades in the press<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Wage the battle of the day.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="SONG2" id="SONG2"></a>SONG.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Night lay upon my eyelids,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">About my lips earth clave;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With stony heart and forehead<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I lay within my grave.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How long I cannot reckon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I slept in that strait bed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I woke and heard distinctly<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A knocking overhead.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Wilt thou not rise, my Henry?<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The eternal dawn is here;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dead have re-arisen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Immortal bliss is near."<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I cannot rise, my darling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I am blinded to the day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mine eyes with tears, thou knowest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Have wept themselves away."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh, I will kiss them, Henry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Kiss from thine eyes the night.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou shalt behold the angels<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the celestial light."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I cannot rise, my darling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My blood is still outpoured<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where thou didst wound my heart once<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With sharp and cruel word."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I'll lay my hand, dear Henry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Upon thy heart again.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then shall it cease from bleeding.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And stilled shall be its pain."<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I cannot rise, my darling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My head is bleeding&mdash;see!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I shot myself, thou knowest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When thou wast reft from me."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh, with my hair, dear Henry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I'll staunch the cruel wound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And press the blood-stream backward;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou shalt be whole and sound."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So kind, so sweet she wooed me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I could not say her nay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I tried to rise and follow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And clasp my loving may.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then all my wounds burst open,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From head and breast outbreak<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gushing blood in torrents&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And lo, I am awake!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="SONG3" id="SONG3"></a>SONG.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Death comes, and now must I make known<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That which my pride eternally<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Prayed to withhold; for thee, for thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My heart has throbbed for thee alone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The coffin waits! within my grave<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They drop me soon, where I shall rest.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But thou, Marie, shalt beat thy breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And think of me, and weep and rave.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And thou shalt wring thy hands, my friend.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Be comforted! it is our fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Our human fate, the good and great<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fair must have an evil end.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+<h2>HOMEWARD BOUND.<br /><br />
+1823-1824.<br /><br /></h2>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>TO</h4>
+<h3>FREDERIKA VARNHAGEN VON ENSE,<br /><br /></h3>
+
+<h5>THE SONGS OF</h5>
+<h4>HOMEWARD BOUND</h4>
+<h5>ARE DEDICATED IN JOYFUL HOMAGE BY THE AUTHOR</h5>
+<h3>HEINRICH HEINE.</h3>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="HOMEWARD_BOUND" id="HOMEWARD_BOUND"></a>HOMEWARD BOUND.</h2>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In my life, too full of shadows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Beamed a lovely vision bright.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now the lovely vision's vanished,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I am girt about by night.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Little children in the darkness<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Feel uneasy fears erelong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, to chase away their terrors,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They will sing aloud a song.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I, a foolish child, am singing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Likewise in the dark apart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If my homely lay lack sweetness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Yet it cheers my anxious heart.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I know not what spell is o'er me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That I am so sad to day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An old myth floats before me&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I cannot chase it away.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The cool air darkens, and listen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">How softly flows the Rhine!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mountain peaks still glisten<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where the evening sunbeams shine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The fairest maid sits dreaming<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In radiant beauty there.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her gold and her jewels are gleaming.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">She combeth her golden hair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With a golden comb she is combing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A wondrous song sings she.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The music quaint in the gleaming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hath a powerful melody.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It thrills with a passionate yearning<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The boatman below in the night.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He heeds not the rocky reef's warning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He gazes alone on the height.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I think that the waters swallowed<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The boat and the boatman anon.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And this, with her singing unhallowed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The Lorelei hath done.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My heart, my heart is heavy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Though merrily glows the May.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out on the ancient bastion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Under the lindens, I stay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Below me the calm blue waters<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of the quiet town-moat shine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A boy in his boat rows past me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He whistles and drops his line.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And yonder the cheerful colors,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And tiny figures, one sees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of people, and villas, and gardens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And cattle, and meadows, and trees.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Young women are bleaching linen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They leap in the grass anear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mill-wheel rains showers of diamonds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Its far away buzz I hear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Above on the gray old tower<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Stands the sentry house of the town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a scarlet-coated fellow<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Goes pacing up and down.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He toys with his shining musket<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That gleams in the sunset red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Presenting and shouldering arms now&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I wish he would shoot me dead.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>IV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In tears through the woods I wander.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The thrush is perched on the bough:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She springs and sings up yonder&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"Oh, why so sad art thou?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The swallows, thy sisters, are able<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My dear, to answer thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They built clever nests in the gable,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where sweetheart's windows be.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>V.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The night is wet and stormy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And void of stars the sky;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Neath the rustling trees of the forest<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I wander silently.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There flickers a lonely candle<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the huntsman's lodge to-night.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It shall not tempt me thither;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">It burns with a sullen light.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There sits the blind old granny,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the leathern arm-chair tall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like a statue, stiff, uncanny<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And speaketh not at all.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And to and fro strides, cursing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The ranger's red haired son,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With angry, scornful laughter<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Flings to the wall his gun.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The beautiful spinner weepeth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And moistens with tears her thread.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At her feet her father's pointer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Whimpering, crouches his head.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When I met by chance in my travels<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All my sweetheart's family,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Papa, mamma, little sister<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Most cordially greeted me.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">About my health they inquired;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Nor even did they fail<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To say I was nowise altered,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Only a trifle pale.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I asked after aunts and cousins,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And many a dull old bore.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And after the dear little poodle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That barked so softly of yore.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And how was my married sweetheart?<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I asked them soon. They smiled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in friendliest tone made answer<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">She was soon to have a child.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And I lisped congratulations,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And begged, when they should see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To give her the kindest greetings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A thousand times for me.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Burst forth the baby-sister,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"That dear little dog of mine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Went mad when he grew bigger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And we drowned him in the Rhine."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The child resembles my sweetheart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The same old laugh has she;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her eyes are the same ones over,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That wrought such grief for me.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We sat in the fisher's cabin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Looking out upon the sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then came the mists of evening,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ascending silently.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The lights began in the lighthouse<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">One after one to burn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on the far horizon<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A ship we could still discern.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We spake of storm and shipwreck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The sailor and how he thrives,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And how betwixt heaven and ocean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And joy and sorrow he strives.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We spake of distant countries,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">South, North, and everywhere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of the curious people,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And curious customs there;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The fragrance and light of the Ganges,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That giant-trees embower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where a beautiful tranquil people<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Kneel to the lotus flower;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Of the unclean folk in Lapland,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Broad-mouthed and flat-headed and small,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who cower upon the hearthstone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Bake fish, and cackle and squall.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The maidens listened gravely,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then never a word was said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ship we could see no longer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">It was far too dark o'erhead.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou fairest fisher maiden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Row thy boat to the land.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come here and sit beside me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Whispering, hand in hand.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lay thy head on my bosom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And have no fear of me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For carelessly thou trustest<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Daily the savage sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My heart is like the ocean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With storm and ebb and flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And many a pearl lies hidden<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Within its depths below.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>IX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The moon is up, and brightly<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Beams o'er the waters vast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I clasp my darling tightly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Our hearts are beating fast.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the dear child's bosom, nestling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Alone I lie on the sand.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Hear'st thou the wild winds rustling?<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Why trembles thy foam-white hand?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"That is no wild wind sighing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That is the mermaid's lay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they are my sisters crying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Whom the sea swallowed one day."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>X.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Up amidst the clouds, the moon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Like a giant orange, beams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er the gray sea shining down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With broad stripes and golden gleams.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And I pace the shore alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where the billows white are broken.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Many a tender word I hear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Words within the water spoken.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, the night is far too long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And my heart throbs fast for pleasure.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beautiful undines, come forth!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sing and dance your magic measure.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Take my body and my soul:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On your lap my head shall rest.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sing to death, caress to death;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Kiss the life from out my breast.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All in gray clouds closely muffled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Now the high gods sleep together,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I listen to their snoring.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Here below 'tis stormy weather.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Stormy weather, raging tempest<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Soon the helpless vessel shatters.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who these furious winds can bridle?<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who can curb the lordless waters?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I can ne'er control the tempest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Over deck and masthead sweeping;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I will wrap me in my mantle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And will sleep as gods are sleeping.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The night wind draws his trousers on,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">His foam-white hose once more;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He wildly whips the waves anon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They howl, and rage, and roar.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From yon dark height, with frantic might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The rain pours ceaselessly.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It seems as if the ancient night<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Would drown the ancient sea.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Anigh the mast the sea-mew screams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With hoarse shrieks, flying low.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its every cry an omen seems,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A prophecy of woe.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The storm for a dance is piping,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With bellow and roar and hiss.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hurrah! how the ship is tossing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">What a merry wild night is this!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A living mountain of water<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The sea upheaves with might.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here an abyss is yawning;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There towers a foaming height.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And sounds of retching and curses<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Forth from the cabin come;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I, to the mast close clinging,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Long to be safe at home.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>XIV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The evening shades are falling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The sea-fog spreads with night.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mysterious waters are calling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There rises something white.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The mermaid comes from the ocean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Beside me sitting down;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her white breast's breathing motion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I see through the gossamer gown.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And she doth clasp and hold me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In passionate, painful way.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Too close thou dost enfold me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou lovely water fay!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Within mine arms I hide thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With all my strength enfold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I warm myself beside thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The night is far too cold."<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Paler the moon is growing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Through shadowy vapors gray.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thine eyes with tears are flowing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou lovely water fay!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"With tears they are not flowing.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As I from waves did rise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forth from the ocean going,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A drop fell in mine eyes."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The sea-mews moan, entreating,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">What does the mad surf say?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy heart is wildly beating,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou lovely water fay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"My heart is beating sadly<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And wild as ever it can,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because I love thee madly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou lovely son of man."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>XV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When I before thy dwelling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In early morning pace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How gladly in the window<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I see thy gentle face.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thy brown-black eyes in pity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Mine own eyes, wistful scan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Who art thou, and what lack'st thou,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou strange, unhappy man?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I am a German poet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of goodly German fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When their best names are spoken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Mine own they are sure to name.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And what I lack, sweet maiden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Most Germans lack the same.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When men name sharpest sorrows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Mine own they are sure to name.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>XVI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The sea outspreading glorious,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the dying sunbeams shone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We sat by the lonely fisher's house,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">We sat there mute and alone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The waters swell, the mists arise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The sea-mew flutters past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then from out thy loving eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The tears come flowing fast.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I see them falling on thy hand.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Upon my knees I sink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from the hollow of thy hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The burning tears I drink.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Since then strange flames my flesh devour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My spent soul disappears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wretched woman in that hour<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Poisoned me with her tears.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>XVII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Up yonder on the mountain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There stands a castle tall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There dwelt three beauteous maidens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And I was loved by all.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On Saturday Hetty kissed me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And Sunday was Julia's day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On Monday Kunigunda<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Nigh hugged my breath away.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On Tuesday, in the castle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My maidens gave a ball.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The neighboring lords and ladies<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Came riding one and all.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But I was not invited.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Amazed they all appeared;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gossiping aunts and cousins<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Remarked the fact, and sneered.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>XVIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Upon the far horizon<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Like a picture of the mist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Appears the towered city<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">By the twilight shadows kissed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The moist, soft breezes ripple<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Our boat's wake gray and dark,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With mournful measured cadence<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The boatman rows my bark.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The sun from clouds outshining,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lights up once more the coast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The very spot it shows me<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where she I loved was lost.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XIX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All hail to thee, thou fairest<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And most mysterious town!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That once inclosed my dearest<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Within thy gateways brown.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Speak out, ye towers and portals!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My sweetheart, where is she?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I left her in your keeping;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ye should my warders be.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The towers are not guilty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For rooted fast were they.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When sweetheart, with trunks and luggage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So quickly stole away.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The gates gave willing passage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With noiseless bars and locks.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A door will always open,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When the adorer knocks.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I tread the dear familiar path,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The old road I have taken;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I stand before my darling's house,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Now empty and forsaken.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh far too narrow is the street,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The roofs seem tottering downward.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The very pavement burns my feet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I hurry faster onward.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XXI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here to her vows I listened,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I tread the empty halls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And where her tear-drops glistened,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The poisoned serpent crawls.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XXII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The quiet night broods over roof-tree and steeple;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Within this house dwelt my treasure rare.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis long since I left the town and its people,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But the house stands still on the self-same square.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here stands, too, a man; toward heaven he gazes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And he wrings his hands with a wild despair.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I shudder with awe when his face he raises,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For the moonlight shows me mine own self there.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, pale sad creature! my ghost, my double,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Why dost thou ape my passion and tears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That haunted me here with such cruel trouble,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So many a night in the olden years?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XXIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How can'st thou slumber calmly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Whilst I alive remain?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My olden wrath returneth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And then I snap my chain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Know'st thou the ancient ballad<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of that dead lover brave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who rose and dragged his lady<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">At midnight to his grave?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Believe me, I am living;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And I am stronger far,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Most pure, most radiant maiden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Than all the dead men are.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>XXIV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The maiden sleeps in her chamber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where the trembling moonbeams glance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without there singeth and ringeth<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The melody of a dance.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I will look just once from the window,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To see who breaks my rest."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A skeleton fiddles before her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sings like one possessed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"To dance with me you promised,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And you have broken your vow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To-night is a ball in the churchyard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Come out and dance with me now."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The music bewitches the maiden;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Forth from her home doth she go;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She follows the bony fiddler,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who sings as he scrapes his bow.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He fiddles, and hops and dances,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And rattles his bones as he plays;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His skull nods grimly and strangely,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the clear moonlight's rays.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XXV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I gazed upon her portrait,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">While dark dreams filled my brain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And those beloved features<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Began to breathe again.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I saw upon her lips then<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A wondrous smile arise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as with tears of pity<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Glistened once more her eyes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Adown my cheeks in silence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The tears came flowing free.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And oh! I cannot believe it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That thou art lost to me!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>XXVI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I, a most wretched Atlas, the huge world,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The whole huge world of sorrow I must carry.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yea, the unbearable must bear, though meanwhile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My heart break in my bosom.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou haughty heart, thyself hast willed it thus,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou would'st be happy, infinitely happy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or infinitely wretched, haughty heart!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lo! now art thou wretched.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XXVII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The years are coming and going,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Whole races are home to their rest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But never ceases the passion<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That burns within my breast.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Only once more I would see thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And make thee a low salaam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with my dying breath, murmur:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"I love you still, Madame!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>XXVIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I dreamed that the moon looked sadly down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the stars with a troubled ray;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I went to my sweetheart's home&mdash;the town<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lies many a league away.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My longing led me before her door;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I kissed the stone steps brown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That her feet had touched in the days of yore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the trailing hem of her gown.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The night was long, the night was cold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ice-cold did the stone steps seem.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the window her own wan face, behold!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Illumed by the moon's pale beam.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XXIX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What means this lonely tear-drop<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That blurs my troubled sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From olden times returning<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Back to mine eyes to-night?<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Its many glimmering sisters<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Are vanished long ago,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the night and the wind they vanished<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With all my joy and my woe.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And like the mists of evening<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Did those blue stars depart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That smiled all joys and sorrows<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Into my trusting heart.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Alas! my love, too, melted<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Like idle breath one day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh lingering, lonely tear-drop,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou also fade away!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XXX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The pale half-moon of autumn<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Through clouds peers doubtfully.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within the lonely churchyard<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The parsonage I see.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The mother reads in her Bible,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The son at the light doth gaze;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One drowsy daughter is nodding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">While another speaks and says:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Ah me! how dreary the days are!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">How dull, and dark, and mean!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Only when there's a funeral<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Is anything to be seen."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The mother looks from her Bible:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"Nay, only four in all<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have died since thy father was buried<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Without by the churchyard wall."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then yawns the eldest daughter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"I will starve no longer here;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I will go to the Count to-morrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He is rich, and he loves me dear."<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The son bursts out a-laughing:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"At the 'Star' three huntsmen drink deep;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They are making gold, and they promise<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To give me their secret to keep."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Toward his lean face, flings the mother<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Her Bible, in wrath and grief.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Out! God-forsaken beggar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou wilt be a common thief!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They hear a tap on the window,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And behold a beckoning hand.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There in his sable vestments<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They see the dead father stand.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XXXI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To-night is wretched weather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">It snows, and storms, and rains;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out in the pitch-black darkness<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I gaze through the window-panes.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There flickers a lonely candle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Slow winding down the street;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a beldame, with her lantern,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Goes hobbling on in the sleet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I think 'tis for eggs and butter<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That she braves this weather wild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To bake a cake for her daughter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Her grown-up ailing child.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Who lies at home in her arm-chair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sleepily blinks at the light.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Over her beautiful forehead<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Her golden curls wave bright.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XXXII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They think my heart is breaking,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In sorrow's bitter yoke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I too begin to think it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As well as other folk.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou large-eyed little darling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Do I not always say<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I love thee past all telling&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Love gnaws my heart away?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But only in my chamber<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I dare express my pain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For always in thy presence<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Quite silent I remain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For there were evil angels<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who sealed my lips so close.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And oh! from evil angels<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sprang all my wretched woes.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XXXIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, those pure white lily fingers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Once again could I but kiss them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Press them close against my heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Melt away in silent weeping!<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, those clearest eyes of violet<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hover day and night before me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I ponder o'er the meaning<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of those lovely blue enigmas.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XXXIV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Did she ne'er express compassion<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For thy tender situation?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could'st thou never in her glances<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Read thy love's reciprocation?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Could'st thou ne'er surprise the spirit<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In her bright eyes unawares?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet thou surely art no donkey,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Dearest friend, in these affairs!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XXXV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They loved one another, but neither<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Confessed a word thereof.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They met with coldest glances,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Though pining away with love.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At last they parted; their spirits<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Met but in visions rare.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They are long since dead and buried,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Though scarcely themselves aware.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XXXVI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And when I lamented my cruel lot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You yawned in my face and you answered not.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now that I set it in daintiest rhyme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You flourish my trumpet all the time.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XXXVII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I called the devil and he came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">His face with wonder I must scan;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He is not ugly, he is not lame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He is a delightful, charming man.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A man in the prime of life, in fact,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Courteous, engaging and full of tact.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A diplomat, too, of wide research<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who cleverly talks about state and church.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">A little pale, but that is <i>en r&egrave;gle</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For now he is studying Sanscrit and Hegel.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His favorite poet is still Fouqu&eacute;;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the brawls of the critics he meddles no more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For all such things he has given o'er,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unto his grandmother Hecat&eacute;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He praised my forensic works that he saw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He had dabbled a little himself in law.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He said he was proud my acquaintance to make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And should prize my friendship, and bowed as he spake.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And asked if we had not met before<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the house of the Spanish Ambassador?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then I noted his features line by line,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And found him an old acquaintance of mine.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XXXVIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mortal, sneer not at the devil;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Life's a short and narrow way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And perdition everlasting<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Is no error of the day.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mortal, pay thy debts precisely,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Life's a long and weary way;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to-morrow thou must borrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As thou borrow'dst yesterday.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XXXIX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Three holy kings from the land of the West<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Go asking whoso passes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Where is the road to Bethlehem,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ye gentle lads and lasses?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But neither young nor old can tell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The kings fare patient onward,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They follow a golden star o'erhead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That bright and kind shines downward.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The star stands still o'er Joseph's house,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thither the pilgrims bringing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The oxen low, the Infant cries,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The three wise kings are singing.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>XL.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My child, we two were children,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As lively as ever you saw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We crept into the hencoop,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And we hid there beneath the straw.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And there, like cocks, crowed loudly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">While folk went passing by.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Kickery-koo!" they fancied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">'Twas really the cock's own cry.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The chests that lay in the courtyard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With paper we overlaid.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Therein we lived together;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">An excellent house we made.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The old cat of our neighbor<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Would visit us at whiles;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We gave her bows and curtsies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And compliments and smiles.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">After her health we inquired<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Gravely whenever she came.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To many an ancient Tabby<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Since then we have done the same.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We talked like grown folks sagely,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sat there oft and long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Complaining how all had altered,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Since the days when we were young.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How love and faith and friendship<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Had vanished, the world was bare;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How dear were tea and coffee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And money had grown so rare!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Those childish games are over,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All things roll on with youth,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Money, the world, and the seasons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And faith and love and truth.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>XLI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My heart is heavy; from the present<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">It yearns towards those old days again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When still the world seemed fair and pleasant,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And men lived happy, free from pain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now all things seem at six and sevens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A scramble and a constant dread;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dead is the Lord God in the heavens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Below us is the devil dead.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And all folks sad and mournful moving,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Wear such a cross, cold, anxious face;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were there not still a little loving,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There would not be a resting place.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XLII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As the moon with splendor pierces<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Through the dark cloud-veil of night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From my darksome Past emerges<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Once again a dream of light.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All upon the deck were seated,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Proudly sailing down the Rhine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Green with June the shores were glowing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the evening's sunset-shine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At the feet of a fair lady<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sat I, full of thoughts untold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er her pale and lovely features<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Played the sunlight's ruddy gold.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lutes were ringing, boys were singing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Wondrous joy on stream and shore.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blue and bluer grew the heavens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the spirit seemed to soar.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hill and city, wood and meadow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Glided past in fairy-wise.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I saw the whole scene mirrored<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the lovely lady's eyes.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>XLIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In a dream I saw my sweetheart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A woman harassed with care;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faded, and haggard, and withered,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The form that had bloomed so fair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">One child in her arms she carried,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And one by the hand she led.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And trouble and poverty plainly<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In her eyes and her raiment I read.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Across the square she tottered,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And face to face we stood.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She looked at me, and I spoke then<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In quiet but mournful mood.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Come home with me to my dwelling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou art pale and ill, I think,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there, with unceasing labor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I will furnish thee meat and drink.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"And I will serve thee, and cherish<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thy children so wan and mild.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thyself more dearly than any,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou poor, unhappy child.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Nor will I vex thee by telling<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The love that burns in my breast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I will weep when thou diest<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Over thy place of rest."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XLIV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Dearest friend, what may it profit<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To repeat the old refrain?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wilt thou, brooding still above it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sitting on love's egg remain!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, it needs incessant watching;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From the shell the chicks have risen.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Clucking, they reward thy hatching,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And this book shall be their prison."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>XLV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Only bear with me in patience,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">If the notes of former wrongs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Many a time distinctly echo<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the latest of my songs.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wait! the slow reverberation<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of my grief will soon depart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a spring of new song blossom<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In my healed, reviving heart.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XLVI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis time that, more sober and serious grown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From folly at last I break free.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I, who so long in comedian's gown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Have played in the play with thee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The scenes gaily painted were bright to behold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And in ultra-romantic tints shone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My knightly, rich mantle was spangled with gold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Noblest feelings were ever mine own.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But now with grave trouble my thoughts are beset,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Although from the stage I depart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my heart is as wretchedly miserable yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As though I still acted my part.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah God! all unwitting and wholly in jest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">What I felt and I suffered I told.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I have fought against Death who abode in my breast<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Like the dying wrestler of old.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XLVII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The great king Wiswamitra<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In dire distress is now.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He seeks with strife and penance<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To win Waschischta's cow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, great King Wiswamitra,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Oh what an ox art thou!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So much to struggle and suffer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And only for a cow.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>XLVIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Heart, my heart, oh, be not shaken!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Bravely bear thy fate. Once more<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall the coming Spring restore<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">What the Winter rude hath taken.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How abundant is thy measure!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Still, O world, how fair thou art!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thou yet may'st love, my heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Everything that gives thee pleasure.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XLIX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou seemest like a flower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So pure and fair and bright;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A melancholy yearning<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Steals o'er me at thy sight.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I fain would lay in blessing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My hands upon thy hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Imploring God to keep thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So bright, and pure, and fair.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>L.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Child, I must be very careful,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For thy soul would surely perish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If the loved heart in thy bosom<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Love for me should ever cherish.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the task proves all too easy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Strange regrets begin to move me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meanwhile many a time I whisper:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"If I could but make her love me!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When on my couch reclining,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Buried in pillows and night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There hovers then before me<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A form of grace and light.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As soon as quiet slumber<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Has closed my weary eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then softly does the image<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Within my dream arise.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But with my dream at morning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">It never melts away;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For in my heart I bear it<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Through all the livelong day.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Maiden with the lips of scarlet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Clearest, sweetest eyes that be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O my darling little maiden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ever do I think of thee!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dreary is the winter evening:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Would that I were in thy home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sitting by thee, calmly chatting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the cosy little room.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And upon my lips, my darling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I would press thy small white hand.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I would press and I would moisten<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With my tears thy small, white hand.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>LIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let the snow without be piled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let the howling storm rage wild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beating o'er the window-pane,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I will never more complain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For within my heart bide warm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spring-tide joy and sweetheart's form.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LIV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some to Mary bend the knee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Others unto Paul and Peter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I, however, I will worship,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sun of beauty, only thee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Kiss me, love me, dearest one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be thou gracious, show me favor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fairest sun among all maidens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fairest maiden under the sun.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>LV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Did not my pallid cheek betray<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My love's unhappy fate?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wilt thou force my haughty lips<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To beg and supplicate?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh far too haughty are these lips,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They can but kiss and jest.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They speak perchance a scornful word,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">While my heart breaks in my breast.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LVI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dearest friend, thou art in love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Tortured with new woes thou art;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Darker grows it in thy brain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lighter grows it in thy heart.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dearest friend, thou art in love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Though thou hast not yet confessed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I can see thy flaming heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Burn already through thy vest.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>LVII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I fain by thee would tarry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To rest there and to woo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But thou away must hurry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou hadst too much to do.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I told thee that my spirit<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Was wholly bound to thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thou didst laugh to hear it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And curtsy low to me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yea, thou did'st much misuse me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In all my love's distress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And even didst refuse me<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">At last the parting kiss.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I will not for thy glory<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Go drown, when all is o'er;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My dear, this same old story<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Befell me once before.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>LVIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sapphires are those eyes of thine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So lovely and so sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thrice blessed is the happy man<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Whom they with love will greet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thy heart, it is a diamond,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That sheds a splendid light.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thrice blessed is the happy man<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For whom it glows so bright.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As red as rubies are thy lips,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Naught fairer can I prove.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thrice blessed is the happy man<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To whom they whisper love.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, knew I but that happy man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Could I at last discover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deep in the greenwood, all alone&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">His bliss were quickly over.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>LIX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lovers' vows, wherefrom thou turnest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Bound me closely to thy heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now my jest grows sober earnest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I am pierced by mine own dart.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Laughingly thou stand'st before me&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">If thou leave me in my need,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the powers of hell come o'er me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I shall shoot myself indeed.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our life and the world have too fragment-like grown;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the German Professor I'll hie me anon<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who sets in straight order all things overhurled.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He will draw up a sensible system, I think,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With his nightcap and nightgown he'll stop every chink<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In this tumble-down edifice known as the world.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Long through my racked and weary brain<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Did endless thoughts and dreams revolve;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now thy lovely eyes, my dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Have brought me to a firm resolve.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Within their radiance wise and kind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where'er thine eyes shine, I remain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I could not have believed it true<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That I should ever love again.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To-night they give a party,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The house is all a-glow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Above, in the lighted window,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Moves a shadow to and fro.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou see'st me not in the darkness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I stand below, apart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still less, my dear, thou seeest<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Within my gloomy heart.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My gloomy heart it loves thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">It breaks for love of thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It breaks, and yearns, and bleedeth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Only thou wilt not see.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>LXIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I fain would outpour all my sorrows<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In a single word to-day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the merry winds I would trust it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They would merrily bear it away.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They would bear it to thee, my darling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The word of sorrowful grace.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou should'st hear it at every hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou shouldst hear it in every place.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And scarce in the midnight darkness<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Shouldst thou close thine eyes in sleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere my whispered word, it would follow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Though thy dream were ever so deep.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXIV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou hast diamonds, and pearls and jewels,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All thy heart covets in store,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the loveliest eyes under heaven&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My darling, what wouldst thou more?<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Upon thine eyes, so lovely,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Have I written o'er and o'er<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Immortal songs and sonnets&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My darling, what wouldst thou more?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And with thine eyes so lovely<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou hast stung me to the core,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hast compassed my undoing&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My darling, what wouldst thou more?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He who for the first time loves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">E'en rejected, is a god.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He who loves a second time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Unrequited, is a fool.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Such a fool am I, in loving<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Once again with no return.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sun and moon and stars are laughing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I am laughing too&mdash;and dying.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>LXVI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They gave me advice, they counseled sense,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They overpowered with compliments.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Patience! they said, and in my need<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They'd prove themselves my friends indeed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Despite their promise to help and protect,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I surely had perished of sheer neglect,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had there not come a worthy man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who bravely to help me now began.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, the worthy man! he gave me to eat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such kindness as his I shall never forget.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I long to embrace him, but never can,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For I am myself this excellent man.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXVII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This most amiable of fellows<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ne'er enough can honored be.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah! to oysters, Rhine-wine, cordial,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Many a time he treated me.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Natty are his hose and trousers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Nattier his cravat is seen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he enters every morning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Asks me how my health has been.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Of my rich renown he speaketh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of my charms and wit displayed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Zealous, eager seems he ever<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To befriend me and to aid.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And at parties in the evening,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With inspired brow and eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He declaims before the ladies<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My immortal poesy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How delightfully refreshing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Now-a-days to find still here<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such a youth, when good things surely<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">More and more do disappear.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>LXVIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I dreamt I was Almighty God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sat within the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And angels sat on either side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And praised my poetry.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And sweets and pasties there I ate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And drank the best Tokay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Worth many a precious florin bright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Yet had no bill to pay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No less was I nigh bored to death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And longed for earth and evil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And were I not Almighty God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I fain had been the devil.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Thou long-legged angel Gabriel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Make haste; begone from here!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hither bring my friend Eugene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The friend I love so dear.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Within the college seek him not,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But where good wine inspires.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And seek him not in Hedwig Church,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But seek him at Miss Myers'."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then spreading broad his mighty wings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The angel doth descend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hastens off, and brings me back<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Dear Bendel, my good friend.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lo, youth, I am Almighty God!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The earth is my estate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Did I not always promise thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I should be something great?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And I accomplish miracles<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That shall thy homage win.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To-day to please thee I shall bless<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The city of Berlin.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Behold, the pavements of each street<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Now wider, broader, grown!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to an oyster, fresh and clear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Transformed is every stone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A shower of sweet lemonade<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Pours down like dew divine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And through the very gutters flows<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The mellowest Rhine wine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, how the Berlinese rejoice!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They lush o'er such good fare.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The councillors and aldermen<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Will drain the gutters bare.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The poets are in ecstasies<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">At such a feast divine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The captains and the corporals<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lick up the streaming wine.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The captains and the corporals,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">What clever men are they!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They think&mdash;such miracles as these<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Occur not every day.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXIX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I left you in the midmost of July,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To-day, my friends in winter I behold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then in the heat ye basked so warm and bright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But now ye have grown cool, yea, even cold.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Soon I depart again, and come once more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then shall I find you neither warm nor cold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I shall moan lamenting o'er your graves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And mine own heart shall then be poor and old.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, to be chased from lovely lips! and torn<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From lovely arms that clasped as in a dream.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I fain had stayed with thee another morn.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then came the postboy with his tinkling team.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">E'en such is life, my child, a constant moan&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A constant parting, evermore good-byes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could not thy heart cling fast unto mine own?<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Couldst thou not hold me steadfast with thine eyes?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXXI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All night, in the shadowy post-chaise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">We drove through the winter weather.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We slept on each other's bosoms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">We jested and laughed together.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But how were we both astonished,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When morning bade us stir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Betwixt us two sat Cupid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The blindfold passenger.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXXII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lord knows where the reckless creature<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Chose her transient stopping-place!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swearing through the rainy weather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Everywhere I seek her trace.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I have been to every tavern<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Running up and running down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of every surly waiter<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Made inquiries in the town.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lo, I see her in yon window!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And she beckons&mdash;all is well!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could I guess that you had chosen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lady, such a grand hotel?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXXIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Like shadows black the houses<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Uprise in long array.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enveloped in my mantle<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I hurry on my way.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The old cathedral-belfry<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Chimes midnight grave and slow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With all her charms and kisses<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My love awaits me now.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The moon is my companion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Kind-beaming from the sky<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I reach the house beloved,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And joyously I cry&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I thank thee, trusty servant,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That thou hast cheered my way.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now, dear moon, I leave thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On others shed thy ray.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"And if a lonely lover<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who sings of grief, thou see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh give him such sweet solace<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As thou hast given me."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXXIV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wert thou, in sooth, mine honored wife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then shouldst thou envied be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A merry pastime were thy life&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All pleasure, mirth, and glee.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And should'st thou scold, and rail and curse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I'd meekly bear my fate;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But if thou do not praise my verse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then shall we separate.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXXV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Upon thy snow-white shoulders<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I lean my head at rest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And secretly I hearken<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To the yearning of thy breast.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In thy heart hussars blue-coated<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Are riding and blowing their horn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my darling will surely desert me<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With the earliest streak of morn.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And if thou desert me to-morrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">None the less art thou mine to-day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And within thine arms so lovely,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Still doubly blest I stay.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>LXXVI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hussars are blowing their trumpets,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And to thy doors they ride.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A garland of wreathed roses<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I bring to thee, my bride.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That were a boisterous household,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Landpests and soldiery!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in thy little heart, dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The goodliest quarters be.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXXVII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I, too, in my youth did languish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Suffered many a bitter anguish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Burning in love's spell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now the price of fuel's higher,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And extinguished is the fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><i>Ma foi!</i> and that is well.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Think of this, my youthful beauty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dry the stupid tears of duty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Quell love's stupid, vague alarms.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since thy life is not yet over,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh forget thy former lover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><i>Ma foi!</i> within mine arms.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXXVIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dost thou hate me then so fiercely,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hast thou really changed so blindly?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the world I shall proclaim it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou could'st treat me so unkindly.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Say, ungrateful lips, how can you<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Breathe an evil word of scorning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the very man who kissed you<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So sincerely, yestermorning?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXXIX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yes, they are the self-same eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That still brighten as I greet her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yes, they are the self-same lips<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That made all my life seem sweeter.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yes, it is the very voice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">At whose slightest tones I faltered<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But no more the same am I;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I wend homeward strangely altered.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">By the fair white arms embraced<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With a close and tender passion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now I lie upon her heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Dull of brain, in cold vexation.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXXX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ye could not understand mine ire<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Nor I the tales that ye did tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when we met within the mire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">We knew each other very well.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXXXI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the eunuchs still complained,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When I raised my voice to sing&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They complained and they maintained<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That it had too harsh a ring.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And they raised with one accord<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All their dainty voices clear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Little crystal trills outpoured&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Oh, how pure and fine to hear!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And they sang of love so sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Love's desire and love's full measure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That the rare artistic treat<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Made the ladies weep for pleasure.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXXXII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On the walls of Salamanca<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Gently sigh the breezes yonder.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Often with my gracious Donna,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There on summer eves I wander.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Round my beauty's slender girdle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Tenderly mine arm enwreathing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I can feel with blessed finger<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Her proud bosom's haughty breathing.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But I hear an anxious whisper<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Through the linden-branches coming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And below, the somber mill-stream<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Murmurs dreams of evil omen.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, Se&ntilde;ora, I foresee it!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I shall be expelled forever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the walls of Salamanca,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">We again shall wander never!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXXXIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Next to me lives Don Henriquez,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He whom folk "the beauty" call;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neighborly our rooms are parted<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Only by a single wall.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Salamanca's ladies flutter<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When he strides along the street,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Clinking spurs, mustachoes twirling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And with hounds about his feet.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But in quiet hours of evening<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He will sit at home apart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His guitar between his fingers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sweet dreams within his heart.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then he smites the chords with passion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All at once begins to strum.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, like squalling cats his scrapings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Toll-de-roll and toodle-dum!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXXXIV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We scarcely had met ere thy voice and thine eye<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Assured me, my darling, that thou wast mine own;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And had not thy mother stood cruelly nigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I think I should really have kissed thee anon.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To-morrow again I depart from the town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And hasten forth on my weary track,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the window my yellow-haired lass peeps down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the friendliest greetings I waft her back.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>LXXXV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lo, on the mountains the sunbeams' first kiss!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The bells of the herd ring afar on the plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My darling, my lambkin, my sun and my bliss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Oh, fain would I see thee and greet thee again!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I gaze on thy windows with curious eyes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Farewell, dearest child, I must vanish for thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In vain! for the curtain moves not&mdash;there she lies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There slumbers she still&mdash;and dreams about me?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXXXVI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In Halle, near the market,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There stand two mighty lions.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, lion-strength of Halle town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">How art thou tamed and broken!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In Halle, near the market,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There stands a mighty giant,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He holds a sword and he never moves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He is petrified with terror.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In Halle, near the market,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A stately church is standing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the <i>Burschenschaft</i> and the <i>Landsmannschaft</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Have plenty of room to worship.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXXXVII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dusky summer-eve declineth<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Over wood and verdant meadow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Golden moon in azure heavens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wafting fragrance, softly shineth.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">By the brook-side chirps the cricket,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Something stirs within the water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the wanderer hears a rustling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hears a breathing past the thicket.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the streamlet, white and slender,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All alone the nymph is bathing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Beautiful her arms and shoulders<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shimmer in the moonbeams' splendor.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>LXXXVIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Night enfolds these foreign meadows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sick heart, weary limbs caressing.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, thy light athwart the shadows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Moon, is like a quiet blessing!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Gentle moon, thy mild beams banish<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Gloomy terrors where they hover.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All my woes dissolve and vanish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And mine eyes with dew brim over.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>LXXXIX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Death is like the balmy night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Life is like the sultry day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">It is dark, and I am sleepy.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am weary of the light.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O'er my couch a tree doth spring<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In its boughs a nightingale<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sings of love, of naught but love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In my dream I hear him sing.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>XC.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Tell me where's your lovely maiden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Whom you sang of erst so well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As a flame that through your bosom<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Pierced with rare, enchanted spell."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, that flame is long extinguished!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And my heart is cold above.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And this little book the urn is<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For the ashes of my love.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p>
+<h2>SONGS TO SERAPHINE.</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="SONGS_TO_SERAPHINE" id="SONGS_TO_SERAPHINE"></a>SONGS TO SERAPHINE.</h2>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the dreamy wood I wander,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the wood at even-tide;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thy slender, graceful figure<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Wanders ever by my side.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Is not this thy white veil floating?<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Is not that thy gentle face?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is it but the moonlight breaking<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Through the dark fir-branches' space?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Can these tears so softly flowing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Be my very own I hear?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or indeed, art thou beside me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Weeping, darling, close anear?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Over all the quiet sea-shore<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Shadowing falls the hour of Hesper;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through the clouds the moon is breaking,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And I hear the billows whisper.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Can that man who wanders yonder<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Be a lover or a dunce?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he seems so sad and merry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sad and merry both at once."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the laughing moon looks downward,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And she speaks, for she doth know it:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Yes, he is both fool and lover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And, to cap it all, a poet!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Behold! 'tis a foam-white sea-mew<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That flutters there on high.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far over the black night-waters<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The moon hangs up in the sky.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The shark and the roach dart forward<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For breath as the breeze floats by.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sea-mew poises and plunges,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The moon hangs up in the sky.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, lovely transient spirit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">How heavy of heart am I!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Too near to thee is the water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The moon hangs up in the sky.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>IV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In moonlit splendor rests the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The soft waves ripple along.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My heart beats low and heavily,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I think of the ancient song.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The ancient song that quaintly sings<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Towns lost in olden times;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And how from the sea's abyss there rings<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The sound of prayers and chimes.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But pious prayers and chimes, I ween,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Are offered all in vain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For that which once hath buried been<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">May never come back again.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>V.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I knew that thou must love me&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">'Twas long ago made clear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But thy confession filled me<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With deep and secret fear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I clambered up the mountain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sang aloud for glee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then while the sun was setting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I wept beside the sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My heart is like the sun, dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Yon kindled flame above;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sinks in large-orbed beauty<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Within a sea of love.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>VI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How enviously the sea-mew<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Looks after us, my dear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because upon thy lips then<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So close I pressed mine ear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He fain would know what issued,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Most curious of birds!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If thou mine ear fulfillest<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With kisses or with words.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What through my spirit hisses?<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I, too, am sore perplexed!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy words, dear, and thy kisses<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Are strangely intermixed.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Shy as a fawn she passed me by;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And, fleet as any heifer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She clambered on from cliff to cliff,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Her hair flew with the zephyr.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where to the sea's edge slope the rocks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I reached her, trembling near it.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, softly with the softest words,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I melted her proud spirit.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There we two sat as high as heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And heaven's own rapture drinking.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While in the dark waves far below;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The gradual sun was sinking.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Below us in the deep, dark sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The fair sun dropped; then dashing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The waves broke wildly over him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With turbulence of passion.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh do not weep! he is not dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">'Neath billows swelling higher;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He has but hidden in my heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With all his burning fire.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>VIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come, let us build upon this rock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The Church of God's last lover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The third New Testament's revealed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The agony is over.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Refuted is the second book<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That fooled us through long ages.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stupid torture of the flesh<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Is not for modern sages.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hear'st thou the Lord in the dark sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With thousand voices speaking?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See'st thou o'erhead the thousand lights<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of God's own glory breaking?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The holy God dwells in the light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As in the dark abysses.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For God is everything that is:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">His breath is in our kisses.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>IX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Gray night broods above the ocean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Little stars gleam sparkling o'er us.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the waters' many voices<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Chant in deep, protracted chorus.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hark! the old northwind is playing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On the polished waves of ocean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That, like tubes of some great organ,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thrill and stir with sounding motion.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Partly pagan, partly sacred,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Rise these melodies upswelling<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Passionately to the heavens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where the joyous stars are dwelling.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And the stars wax large and larger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In bright mazes they are driven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Large as suns at last revolving,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Through the spaces of vast heaven.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And weird harmonies they warble<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With the billows' music blending.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Solar nightingales, they circle<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Through the spheres strange concord sending.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And with mighty roar and trembling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sky and ocean both are ringing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a giant's stormy rapture<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Feel I in my bosom springing.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>X.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Shadow-love and shadow-kisses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Life of shadows, wondrous strange!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall all hours be sweet as this is,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Silly darling, safe from change?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All things that we clasp and cherish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Pass like dreams we may not keep.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Human hearts forget and perish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Human eyes must fall asleep.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>XI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She stood beside the ocean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sighed as one oppressed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With such a deep emotion<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The sunset thrilled her breast.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dear maiden, look more gayly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">This trick is old, thou'lt find.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before us sinks he daily,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To rise again behind.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My ship sails forth with sable sails,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Far over the savage sea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou know'st how heavy is my woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Yet still thou woundest me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thy heart is fickle as the wind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And flits incessantly.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My ship sails forth with sable sails,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Far over the savage sea.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>XIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I told nor man, nor woman<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">How ill you dealt with me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I came abroad and published it<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To the fishes in the sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Only upon terra firma<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I have left you your good name;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But over all the ocean<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Every creature knows your shame.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XIV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The roaring waves press onward<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To reach the strand.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then swell, and, crashing downward,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Break on the sand.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They roll with surging power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Nor rest, nor fail&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then ebb slow and slower&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of what avail?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>XV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Runenstein juts in the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I sit here with my dreams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The billows wander foamingly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Winds pipe, the sea-mew screams.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh I have loved full many a lass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And many a worthy fellow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where have they gone? The shrill winds pass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And wandering foams the billow.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XVI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The waves gleam in the sunshine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They seem of gold to be.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I am dead, my brothers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Oh drop me in the sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For dearly have I loved it.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Like cooling balm descends<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon my heart its current:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">We were the best of friends.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="TO_ANGELIQUE" id="TO_ANGELIQUE"></a>TO ANGELIQUE.</h2>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now that heaven smiles in favor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Like a mute shall I still languish,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I, who when unhappy, ever<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sang so much about mine anguish?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Till a thousand striplings haunted<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">By despair, my notes re-fluted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And unto the woe I chanted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Greater evils still imputed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh ye nightingales' sweet choir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That my bosom holds in capture,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lift your joyous voices higher,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Let the whole world hear your rapture!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though thou wert fain to pass me quickly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Yet backward didst thou look by chance;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy wistful lips were frankly parted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Impetuous scorn was in thy glance.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Would that I ne'er had sought to hold thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To touch thy fleeing gown's white train!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dear mark of thy tiny footprints<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Would that I ne'er had found again!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For now thy rare wild charm has vanished,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Like others thou art tame to see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Intolerably kind and gentle&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Alas! thou art in love with me.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ne'er can I believe, young beauty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thy disdainful lips alone:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For such big black eyes as thine are<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Virtue never yet did own.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And those brown-streaked lies down-glancing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Say "I love thee!" clearly scanned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let thy little white heart kiss me&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">White heart, dost thou understand?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>IV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From the slightest of emotions,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">What a sudden transformation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the most unbounded passion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the tenderest relation!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Every day it waxes deeper,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My affection for my lady.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am almost half-persuaded<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That I am in love already.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Beautiful her soul: though truly<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That's a question of opinion.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am surer of the beauty<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of the bodily dominion.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh that waist! And oh that forehead!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Oh that nose! The sweet enclosure<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the lovely lips in smiling!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the bearing's proud composure!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>V.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, how fair thou art when frankly<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou reveal'st thy soul's dimensions,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thy speech is overflowing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With the noblest of intentions.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When thou tell'st me how thy feelings<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Always have been truest, highest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the pride within thy bosom<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou no sacrifice denyest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Not for millions, thou averrest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Man could thy pure honor buy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere thou sell thyself for money<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ah, thou wouldst far liefer die.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I before thee stand and listen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To the end I listen stoutly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like a type of faith in silence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And I fold my hands devoutly.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I closed my sweetheart's either eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And on her mouth I kissed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now asking me the reason why<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">She never gives me rest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From set of sun till morning rise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Each hour does she persist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Oh wherefore did you close mine eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When on my mouth you kissed?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I never yet have told her why,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Myself I scarcely wist.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I closed my sweetheart's either eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And on her mouth I kissed.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>VII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When I, enraptured by precious kisses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Rest in thine arms for briefest season,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Germany thou must not ask me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I cannot bear it&mdash;there is a reason!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Leave Germany in peace, I do beseech thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Vex not with endless questions my poor spirit<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Concerning home, friends, social, kind relations,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There is a reason why I cannot bear it.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The oak-tree there is green, the German women<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Have soft blue eyes&mdash;tender they are and fair.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They whisper sighs of hope and truth and passion.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I have good cause&mdash;'tis more than I can bear.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Whilst I, after other people's,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Others people's darlings gaze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And before strange sweethearts' dwellings<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sighing pace through weary days.&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then perhaps those other people<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In another quarter pine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pacing by my very windows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Coveting that girl of mine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That were human! God in heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Watch us still whate'er befall!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">God in heaven, joy and blessing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Joy and blessing send us all!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>IX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dismiss me not, e'en if my thirst<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Quenched with that sweet draught be!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bear with me for a season yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That shall suffice for me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Canst thou no longer be my love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then be to me a friend;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For friendship only just begins<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When love is at an end.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>X.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This mad carnival of loving,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">This our heart's intoxication<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ends at last, and we twain, sobered,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yawningly look each on each.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All the luscious cup is drained<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That was filled with sensuous juices,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Foaming to the brim, enticing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the luscious cup is drained.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And the violins are silent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That so sweetly played for dancing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For the giddy dance of passion&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yes, the violins are silent.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And the lanterns are extinguished,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That with gorgeous light illumined<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All the motley troop of maskers&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yes, the lanterns are extinguished.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And to-morrow comes Ash-Wednesday,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I will draw upon thy forehead<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then an ashen cross, and murmur,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Woman, thou art dust&mdash;remember!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="SPRING_FESTIVAL" id="SPRING_FESTIVAL"></a>SPRING FESTIVAL.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This is the spring-tide's mournful feast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The frantic troops of blooming girls<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Are rushing hither with flying curls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Moaning they smite their bare white breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Adonis! Adonis!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The night has come. By the torches' gleams<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They search the forest on every side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That echoes with anguish far and wide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With tears, mad laughter, and sobs and screams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Adonis! Adonis!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The mortal youth so strangely fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lies on the cold turf pale and dead;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">His heart's blood staineth the flowers red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a wild lament fulfills the air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Adonis! Adonis!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHILDE_HAROLD" id="CHILDE_HAROLD"></a>CHILDE HAROLD.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lo, a large black-shrouded barge<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sadly moves with sails outspread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mute creatures' muffled features<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hold grim watch above the dead.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Calm below it lies the poet<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With his fair face bare and white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still with yearning ever turning<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Azure eyes towards heaven's light.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As he saileth sadly waileth<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Some bereaven undine-bride.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er the springing waves outringing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hark! a dirge floats far and wide.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_ASRA" id="THE_ASRA"></a>THE ASRA.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Daily the fair Sultan's daughter<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wanders to and fro at twilight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the margin of the fountain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the waters white are rippling.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Daily the young slave at twilight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stands beside the fountain's margin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the waters white are rippling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Daily grows he pale and paler.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There one evening moved the princess<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Toward the slave with words swift-spoken<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Tell me, tell me what thy name is,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where thy home is, what thy lineage?"<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Spake the youthful slave: "My name is<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mahomet, I come from Yemen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And by birth I am an Asra,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One who dieth when he loves."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="HELENA" id="HELENA"></a>HELENA.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou hast invoked me from my grave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And through thy magic spell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hast quickened me with fierce desire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">This flame thou canst not quell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh press thy lips against my lips,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Divine is mortal breath;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I drink thy very soul from thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Insatiable is death.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="SONG" id="SONG"></a>SONG.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There stands a lonely pine-tree<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the north, on a barren height;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He sleeps while the ice and snow flakes<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Swathe him in folds of white.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He dreameth of a palm-tree<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Far in the sunrise-land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lonely and silent longing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On her burning bank of sand.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE NORTH SEA.</h2>
+
+<h3>1825-26.</h3>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>TO</h4>
+<h3>FREDERICK MERCKEL,</h3>
+<h5>THE PICTURES OF</h5>
+<h4>THE NORTH SEA</h4>
+<h5>ARE AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR.</h5>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_NORTH_SEA" id="THE_NORTH_SEA"></a>THE NORTH SEA.</h2>
+
+<h3>FIRST CYCLUS.</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"To be disinterested in everything, but above all in love and friendship, was my
+supreme wish, my maxim, my practice; hence my daring expression at a later
+period: 'If I love thee, what is that to thee?' sprang directly from my heart."</p>
+
+<p style='text-align:right;'>Goethe's "Truth and Poetry," Book <span class="smcap">XIV</span>.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<h4><a name="CORONATION" id="CORONATION"></a>I. CORONATION.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh songs of mine! belov&egrave;d songs of mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Up, up! and don your armor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And let the trumpets blare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And lift upon your shield<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">This youthful maiden<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Who now shall reign supreme<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Over my heart, as queen!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hail! hail! thou youthful queen!<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">From the sun above<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">I snatch the beaming red gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And weave therewith a diadem<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">For thy consecrated head.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the fluttering azure-silken canopy of heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where blaze the diamonds of night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A precious fragment I cut:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And as a coronation mantle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I hang it upon thy royal shoulders.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">I bestow on thee a court<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Of richly-attired sonnets,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Haughty <i>Terzine</i> and stately stanzas.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">My wit shall serve thee as courier,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">My fancy shall be thy fool,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thy herald, whose crest is a smiling tear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Shall be my humor.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">But I myself, oh Queen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Low do I kneel before thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">On the cushion of crimson samite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And as homage I dedicate to thee.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span><span class="i4">The tiny morsel of reason,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That has been compassionately spared me<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">By thy predecessor in the realm.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><a name="TWILIGHT" id="TWILIGHT"></a>II. TWILIGHT.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">On the wan shore of the sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lonely I sat with troubled thoughts.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">The sun dropped lower, and cast<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Glowing red streaks on the water.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And the white wide waves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Crowding in with the tide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Foamed and rustled, nearer and nearer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a strange rustling, a whispering, a hissing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A laughter, a murmur, a sighing, a seething,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And amidst all these a mysterious lullaby.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I seemed to hear long-past traditions,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Lovely old-time fairy-tales,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Which as a boy I had heard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">From the neighbor's children,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When on summer evenings we had nestled<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">On the stone steps of the porch.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span><span class="i5">With little eager hearts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And wistful cunning eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Whilst the grown maidens<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sat opposite at their windows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Near their sweet-smelling flower pots,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">With their rosy faces,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Smiling and beaming in the moonlight.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><a name="SUNSET1" id="SUNSET1"></a>III. SUNSET.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">The glowing red sun descends<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Into the wide, tremulous<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Silver-gray ocean.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ethereal, rosy tinted forms<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Are wreathed behind him, and opposite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through the veil of autumnal, twilight clouds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Like a sad, deathly-pale countenance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Breaks the moon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And after her, like sparks of light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the misty distance, shimmer the stars.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">Once there shone forth in heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Nuptially united.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Luna the goddess, and Sol the god.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And around them gathered the stars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Those innocent little children.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">But evil tongues whispered dissension,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And in bitterness parted<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">The lofty, illustrious pair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">Now all day in lonely splendor<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The sun-god fares overhead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Worshiped and magnified in song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">For the excellence of his glory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By haughty prosperity&mdash;hardened men.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">But at night<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In heaven wandereth Luna,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">The poor mother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With her orphaned, starry children;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she shines with a quiet sadness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And loving maidens and gentle poets<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Dedicate to her their tears and their songs<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">Poor weak Luna! Womanly-natured,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Still doth she love her beautiful consort.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Towards evening pale and trembling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">She peers forth from light clouds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sadly gazes after the departing one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in her anguish fain would call to him, "Come!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Come! our children are pining for thee!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But the scornful sun-god,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">At the mere sight of his spouse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Glows in doubly-dyed purple,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With wrath and grief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And implacably he hastens downward<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To the cold waves of his widowed couch.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Thus did evil-whispering tongues<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Bring grief and ruin<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Even upon the immortal gods.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the poor gods in heaven above<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Painfully wander<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Disconsolate on their eternal path,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And cannot die;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span><span class="i2">And drag with them<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">The chain of their glittering misery.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">But I, the son of man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The lowly-born, the death-crowned one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">I murmur no more.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><a name="SHORE" id="SHORE"></a>IV. NIGHT ON THE SHORE.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i5">Starless and cold is the night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">The sea yawns;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And outstretched flat on his paunch, over the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Lies the uncouth North-wind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Secretly with a groaning, stifled voice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Like a peevish, crabbed man in a freak of good humor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">He babbles to the ocean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And recounts many a mad tale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Stories of murderous giants,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Quaint old Norwegian Sagas,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from time to time, with re-echoing laughter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">He howls forth<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The conjuration-songs of the Edda,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span><span class="i7">With Runic proverbs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So mysteriously arrogant, so magically powerful,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That the white children of the sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">High in the air upspring and rejoice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Intoxicated with insolence.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Meanwhile on the level beach,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Over the wave-wetted sand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Strides a stranger whose heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Is still wilder than wind or wave.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Where his feet fall<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sparks are scattered and shells are cracked.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And he wraps himself closer in his gray mantle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And walks rapidly through the windy night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Surely guided by a little light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">That kindly and invitingly beams<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">From the lonely fisherman's hut.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Father and brother are on the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And quite alone in the hut<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Bides the fisher's daughter,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span><span class="i5">The fisher's rarely-beautiful daughter.<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">She sits on the hearth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And listens to the cosy auspicious hum<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Of the boiling kettle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And lays crackling fagots upon the fire.<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And blows thereon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Till the flickering red flames<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">With a magic charm are reflected<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">On her blooming face.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">On her delicate white shoulders<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Which so pathetically outpeep<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">From the coarse gray smock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And on her little tidy hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Which gathers more closely the petticoat<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">About her dainty loins.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">But suddenly the door springs wide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And in steps the nocturnal stranger<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">His eyes rest with confident love<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">On the slim, white maiden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Who stands trembling before him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Like a frightened lily.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span><span class="i5">And he flings his mantle to the ground<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And laughs and speaks.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">"Thou see'st my child! I keep my word.<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And I come, and with me, comes<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">The olden time when the gods of heaven<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Descended to the daughters of men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And embraced the daughters of men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">And begot with them<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">A race of sceptre-bearing kings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And heroes, the wonder of the world.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">But thou my child, no longer stand amazed<br /></span>
+<span class="i9">At my divinity.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And I beseech thee, boil me some tea with rum,<br /></span>
+<span class="i9">For it is cold out doors,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And in such a night-air as this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Even we, the eternal gods, must freeze.<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And we easily catch a divine catarrh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i9">And an immortal cough."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><a name="POSEIDON" id="POSEIDON"></a>V. POSEIDON.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i9">The sunbeams played<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Upon the wide rolling sea.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span><span class="i3">Far out on the roadstead glimmered the vessel<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">That was to bear me home.<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">But the favoring wind was lacking,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And still quietly I sat on the white down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">By the lonely shore.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i7">And I read the lay of Odysseus,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">The old, the eternally-young lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">From whose billowy-rushing pages<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Joyously into me ascended<br /></span>
+<span class="i9">The breath of the gods,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And the lustrous spring-tide of humanity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And the blooming skies of Hellas.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i7">My loyal heart faithfully followed<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">The son of Laertes in his wanderings and vexations,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">By his side I sat with troubled soul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">On the hospitable hearth<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Where queens were spinning purple.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">And I helped him to lie and happily to escape<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">From the dens of giants and the arms of nymphs.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span><span class="i4">And I followed him into Cimmerian night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Into storm and shipwreck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And with him I suffered unutterable misery.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">With a sigh I spake: "Oh, thou cruel Poseidon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Fearful is thy wrath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And I myself tremble<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">For mine own journey home."<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Scarce had I uttered the words,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">When the sea foamed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And from the white billows arose<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The reed-crowned head of the sea-god.<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And disdainfully he cried:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">"Have no fear, Poetling!<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Not in the least will I imperil<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Thy poor little ship.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Neither will I harass thy precious life<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">With too considerable oscillations.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For thou, Poetling, hast never offended me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Thou hast not injured a single turret<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">On the sacred stronghold of Priam.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span><span class="i4">Not a single little lash hast thou singed<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">In the eyelid of my son Polyphemus;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And never hast thou been sagely counselled and protected<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">By the goddess of wisdom, Pallas Athene."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i7">Thus exclaimed Poseidon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And plunged again into the sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And, at his coarse sailor-wit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Laughed under the water<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Amphitrite, the stout fishwoman,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And the stupid daughters of Nereus.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><a name="DECLARATION" id="DECLARATION"></a>VI. DECLARATION.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i5">Shadowing downward came dusky evening,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Wildly the breakers rolled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">I sat alone upon the shore and gazed<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">At the white dance of the waves.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i5">And my bosom heaved with the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A deep homesickness yearningly seized my heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">For thee, oh lovely image,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span><span class="i7">Who surround'st me everywhere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Who call'st to me everywhere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Everywhere, everywhere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the rushing of the wind, in the dashing of the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And in the sighing of mine own breast.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">With a slender reed I wrote upon the sand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i9">"Agnes, I love thee!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But the wicked waves came overflowing<br /></span>
+<span class="i9">That sweet confession,<br /></span>
+<span class="i9">And blotted it out.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">Oh brittle reed! oh swiftly-scattered sand!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Oh flowing waves, I trust you no more!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The heavens grow darker, my heart beats more wildly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And with a mighty hand, from the Norwegian woods,<br /></span>
+<span class="i9">I snatch the loftiest fir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i11">And I plunge it<br /></span>
+<span class="i9">Into Etna's glowing gulf;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And, with such a fire-steeped giant's pen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">I write on the dusky canopy of heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i9">"Agnes, I love thee!"<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Each night hereafter overhead shall blaze<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Those eternal letters of flame.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And all future generations of our descendants<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Shall joyously read the celestial sign,<br /></span>
+<span class="i9">"Agnes, I love thee!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><a name="NIGHT" id="NIGHT"></a>VII. NIGHT IN THE CABIN.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The ocean hath its pearls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The heaven hath its stars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But oh, my heart, my heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My heart hath its love.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Great are the sea and the heavens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But greater is my heart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fairer than pearls or stars<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glistens and glows my love,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou little, youthful maiden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come unto my mighty heart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My heart, and the sea, and the heavens<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are melting away with love.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On the azure vault of heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the beauteous stars are shining,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am fain to press my lips now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wildly press midst stormy weeping.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yonder myriad stars the eyes are<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of my darling, and they twinkle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they beckon to me kindly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the azure vault of heaven.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Towards the azure vault of heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Towards the eyes of my belov&egrave;d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Piously mine arms uplifting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus I supplicate and worship;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lovely eyes, ye lights of heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Graciously my soul inspire&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let me die and let me win you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You and all your spacious heavens.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From the eyes of heaven yonder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Golden sparks fall trembling downward,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through the night. My soul dilateth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Filled and overfilled with passion.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh ye eyes of heaven yonder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weep yourselves to death within me!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till my spirit overfloweth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the radiant starry tear drops.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Cradled by the waves of ocean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And by drowsy thoughts and visions,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still I lie within the cabin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In my berth so dark and narrow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Through the open hatchway yonder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I can see the stars clear shining.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The belov&egrave;d eyes so gentle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of my gentle well-belov&egrave;d.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The belov&egrave;d eyes so gentle<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hold above my head their vigil;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they glimmer and they beckon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the azure vault of heaven.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On the azure vault of heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still I gaze through blessed hours,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till a white and filmy vapor<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Veils from me those eyes belov&egrave;d.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">Against the wooden wall of the ship<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Where my dreaming head reclines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Break the waves, the wild sea-waves.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">They whisper and murmur<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Close into mine ear:<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">"Oh foolish young fellow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thine arm is short and the sky is far off,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the stars are all firmly nailed above<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">With golden nails.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vain is thy yearning and vain is thy sighing!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The best thou canst do is to go to sleep."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I dreamed a dream about a strange vast heath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All overlaid with white and quiet snow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I beneath that white snow buried lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And slept the cold and lonely sleep of death.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But from the dark and shadowy heavens yonder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon my grave the starry eyes looked down.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those gentle eyes! Triumphantly they sparkled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With still serenity, yet full of love.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><a name="STORM" id="STORM"></a>VIII. STORM.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">The tempest is raging.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">It lashes the waves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the waves foaming and rearing in wrath<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tower on high, and the white mountains of water<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Surge as though they were alive,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">While the little ship over-climbs them<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With laborious haste,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And suddenly plunges down<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the black, wide-yawning abyss of the tide.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i5">O sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou mother of beauty, of the foam-engendered one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Grandmother of love, spare me!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Already scenting death, flutters around me<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">The white, ghostly sea-mew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And whets his beak on the mast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And hungers with glutton-greed for the heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Which resounds with the glory of thy daughter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And which the little rogue, thy grandson,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Hath chosen for his play-ground.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">In vain are my prayers and entreaties,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My cry dies away in the rushing storm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">In the battle-tumult of the winds.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They roar and whistle and crackle and howl<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Like a bedlam of tones.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And amidst them, distinctly I hear<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Alluring notes of harps,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Heart-melting, heart-rending,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And I recognize the voice.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">Far away on the rocky Scotch coast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Where the little gray castle juts out<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Over the breaking waves,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">There at the lofty-arched window<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Stands a beautiful suffering woman,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Transparently delicate, and pale as marble.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And she plays on the harp, and she sings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the wind stirs her flowing locks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And wafts her melancholy song<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Over the wide, stormy sea.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><a name="CALM" id="CALM"></a>IX. CALM.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Calm at sea! The sunbeams flicker<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Falling on the level water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And athwart the liquid jewels<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ploughs the ship her emerald furrows.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">By the rudder lies the pilot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On his stomach, gently snoring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Near the mast, the tarry ship-boy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stoops at work, the sail repairing.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Neath their smut his cheeks are ruddy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hotly flushed,&mdash;his broad mouth twitches.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full of sadness are the glances<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of his eyes so large and lovely.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For the captain stands before him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Raves and scolds and curses: "Rascal!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Little rascal, thou hast robbed me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of a herring from the barrel."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Calm at sea! above the water<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">comes a cunning fish out-peeping.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Warms his little head in sunshine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Merrily his small fins plashing.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But from airy heights, the sea-mew<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the little fish darts downward.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Carrying in his beak his booty<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Back he soars into the azure.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4><a name="APPARITION" id="APPARITION"></a>X. AN APPARITION IN THE SEA.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">I however lay on the edge of the vessel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And gazed with dreamy eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Down into the glass-clear water.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And gazed deeper and deeper,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Deep down into the bottom of the sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">At first like a twilight mist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then gradually more distinctly colored,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Domes of churches and towers arose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at last, as clear as sunshine, a whole city,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">An antique Netherland city,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Enlivened with people.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Grave men with black mantles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And white ruffs, and chains of honor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And long swords and long faces,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Strode over the swarming market-place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Towards the court-house with its high steps,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where the stone effigies of emperors<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Kept guard with scepter and sword.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Near by, past long rows of houses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Past casements like polished mirrors,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span><span class="i3">And pyramidal, clipped lindens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wandered, in rustling silks, the young maidens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With slender forms, and flower-faces<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Decently encircled by their black hoods,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And their waving golden hair.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Motley-clad folk in Spanish garb<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Strut past and salute each other.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Elderly dames<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">In brown, old-fashioned attire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Missal and rosary in hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Hasten with tripping steps<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Towards the great cathedral,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Drawn thither by the chiming bells,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And by the deep-voiced tones of the organ.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">And the far-off chimes smite me also<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">With mysterious awe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Insatiable yearning, profound sadness<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Steal into my heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Into my scarcely-healed heart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">I feel as if its wounds<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Were kissed open by belov&egrave;d lips,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span><span class="i4">And began to bleed afresh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">With hot, red drops,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">That fall long and slowly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">On an old house below there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">In the deep city of the sea;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">On an old high-gabled house,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sadly deserted by all living creatures,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Save that in the lower window,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Sits a maiden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Her head resting on her arms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Like a poor, forsaken child,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And I know thee, thou poor forsaken child.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Deep down, deep as the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Thou hiddest thyself from me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">In a childish freak,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And never couldst rise again.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">And thou sat'st a stranger among strangers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Through long ages,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whilst I, my soul full of grief,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">I sought thee over the whole earth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Forever I sought thee,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span><span class="i6">Thou ever-belov&egrave;d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Thou long-lost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Thou found at last!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I have found thee, and I see once more<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Thy sweet face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">The wise, loyal eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The darling smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And never again will I leave thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And I come down to thee now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And with wide-stretched arms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">I leap down upon thy breast.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">But just at the right moment<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">The captain seized me by the foot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And drew me from the edge of the vessel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And cried with a peevish laugh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"Doctor, are you possessed by the devil?"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><a name="PURIFICATION" id="PURIFICATION"></a>XI. PURIFICATION.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Remain in thy deep sea-home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Thou insane dream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Which so many a night<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span><span class="i2">Hast tortured my heart with a counterfeit happiness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And which now as a vision of the sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Dost threaten me even in the broad daylight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Remain there below to all eternity!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And I cast moreover down unto thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">All my sorrows and sins,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And the cap and bells of folly<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">That have jingled so long upon my head.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And the cold, sleek serpent's skin<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Of dissimulation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Which so long has enwound my soul&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">My sick soul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">My God-denying, angel-denying<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Wretched soul.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Hilli-ho! Hilli-ho! Here comes the breeze.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up with the sails! They flutter and belly to the wind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Over the treacherous smooth plain<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Hastens the ship<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And the emancipated soul rejoices.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4><a name="PEACE" id="PEACE"></a>XII. PEACE.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">High in heaven stood the sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Surrounded by white clouds.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">The sea was calm;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And I lay musing on the helm of the ship,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Dreamily musing, and, half-awake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Half asleep, I saw Christ,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">The Savior of the world.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">In waving white raiment<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">He strode gigantically tall<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Over land and sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">His head touched heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">He spread his hands in benediction<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Over land and sea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And for a heart in his bosom<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">He bore the sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">The red fiery sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And the red, fiery sun-heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Showered its beams of grace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And its pure love-bestowing light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">That illumines and warms<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Over land and sea.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">Peals of festal bells drew hither and thither,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">As swans might draw by chains of roses<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">The smooth-gliding vessel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And sportively drew it to the verdant banks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Where folk dwelt in a lofty-towered<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Overhanging town.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh miracle of peace! How quiet was the town!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hushed was the dull murmur of chattering, sweltering Trade.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And through the clean, resounding streets,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Walked people clad in white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Bearing branches of palm.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And when two such would meet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They looked at each other with ardent sympathy<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And, trembling with love and self denial,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Kissed each other's brow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And glanced upward<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Towards the sun-heart of the Savior,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Which in glad propitiation irradiated downward<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Its crimson blood:<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And thrice they exclaimed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">"Praised be Jesus Christ!"<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Couldst thou have conceived this vision,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">What wouldst thou have given,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Most dearly belov&egrave;d,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou who art so weak in body and mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And so strong in faith!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou who so singly honorest the Trinity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who kissest daily the pug and the reins and the paws<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of thy lofty protectress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hastenest with canting devotion<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the Aulic councilor and to the councilor of justice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And at last to the council of the Realm<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">In the pious city,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where sand and faith flourish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the long-suffering waters of the sacred Spree<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Purify souls and dilute tea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Couldst thou have conceived this vision<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Most dearly belov&egrave;d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou hadst borne it to the lofty minnows of the market place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With thy pale blinking countenance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Rapt with piety and humility;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And their high mightinesses<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span><span class="i0">Ravished and trembling with ecstacy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would have fallen praying with thee on their knees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And their eyes glowing with beatitude,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Would have promised thee an increase of salary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of a hundred thalers Prussian currency.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thou wouldst have stammered with folded hands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">"Praised be Jesus Christ!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+
+<h2><a name="SECOND" id="SECOND"></a>SECOND CYCLUS.</h2>
+
+<h3>Motto, Xenophon's Anabasis&mdash;IV. V.</h3>
+
+
+<h4><a name="SALUTATION" id="SALUTATION"></a>I. SALUTATION TO THE SEA.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">Thalatta! Thalatta!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All hail to thee, thou Eternal sea!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All hail to thee ten thousand times<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">From my jubilant heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">As once thou wast hailed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By ten thousand Grecian hearts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Misfortune-combating, homeward-yearning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">World-renowned Grecian hearts.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">The waters heaved,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">They heaved and roared.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sun poured streaming downward<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Its flickering rosy lights.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The startled flocks of sea-mews<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fluttered away with shrill screams;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The coursers stamped, the shields rattled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And far out, resounded like a triumphal p&aelig;an,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Thalatta! Thalatta!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">All hail to thee, thou Eternal Sea!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the language of home, thy water whispers to me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the dreams of my childhood I see it glimmer.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Over thy billowy realm of waves.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And it repeats to me anew olden memories,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of all the belov&egrave;d glorious sports,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of all the twinkling Christmas gifts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Of all the ruddy coral-trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tiny golden fishes, pearls and bright-hued mussels,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which thou dost secretly preserve<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Below there in thy limpid house of crystal.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Oh, how I have pined in barren exile!<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Like a withered flower<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">In the tin box of a botanist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">My heart lay in my breast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">I feel as if all winter I had sat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">A sick man, in a dark, sick room,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Which now I suddenly leave.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And dazzlingly shines down upon me<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The emerald spring, the sunshine-awakened spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And the white-blossomed trees are rustling;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And the young flowers look at me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With their many-colored, fragrant eyes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there is an aroma, and a murmuring, and a breathing and a laughter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And in the blue sky the little birds are singing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Thalatta! Thalatta!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">Thou valiant, retreating heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">How oft, how bitter oft<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Did the fair barbarians of the North press thee hard!<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">From their large victorious eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">They darted burning shafts.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span><span class="i6">With crooked, polished words,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">They threatened to cleave my breast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">With sharp-pointed missives they shattered<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">My poor, stunned brain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">In vain I held up against them my shield,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">The arrows whizzed, the strokes cracked,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And from the fair barbarians of the North<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">I was pressed even unto the sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And now with deep, free breath, I hail the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The dear, redeeming sea&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Thalatta! Thalatta!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><a name="TEMPEST" id="TEMPEST"></a>II. TEMPEST.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">Gloomy lowers the tempest over the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And through the black wall of cloud<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Is unsheathed the jagged lightning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Swift outflashing, and swift-vanishing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Like a jest from the brain of Chronos.<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Over the barren, billowy water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Far away rolls the thunder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And up leap the white water-steeds,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span><span class="i8">Which Boreas himself begot<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Out of the graceful mare of Erichthon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And the sea-birds flutter around,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Like the shadowy dead on the Styx,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Whom Charon repels from his nocturnal boat.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">Poor, merry, little vessel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Dancing yonder the most wretched of dances!<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Eolus sends it his liveliest comrades,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Who wildly play to the jolliest measures;<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">One pipes his horn, another blows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">A third scrapes his growling bass-viol.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And the uncertain sailor stands at the rudder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And constantly gazes at the compass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The trembling soul of the ship;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And he raises his hands in supplication to Heaven&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">"Oh, save me, Castor, gigantic hero!<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And thou conquering wrestler, Pollux."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><a name="WRECKED" id="WRECKED"></a>III. WRECKED.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">Hope and love! everything shattered<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And I myself, like a corpse<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span><span class="i3">That the growling sea has cast up,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">I lie on the strand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">On the barren cold strand.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Before me surges the waste of waters,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Behind me lies naught but grief and misery;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And above me, march the clouds,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The formless, gray daughters of the air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Who from the sea, in buckets of mist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Draw the water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And laboriously drag and drag it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And spill it again in the sea&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">A melancholy, tedious task,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And useless as my own life.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">The waves murmur, the sea mews scream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Old recollections possess me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Forgotten dreams, banished visions,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Tormentingly sweet, uprise.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">There lives a woman in the North,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A beautiful woman, royally beautiful.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Her slender, cypress-like form<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span><span class="i4">Is swathed in a light, white raiment.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Her locks, in their dusky fullness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Like a blessed night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Streaming from her braid-crowned head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Curl softly as a dream<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Around the sweet, pale face;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And from the sweet pale face<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Large and powerful beams an eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Like a black sun.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Oh thou black sun, how oft,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">How rapturously oft, I drank from thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The wild flames of inspiration!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And stood and reeled, intoxicated with fire.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then there hovered a smile as mild as a dove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">About the arched, haughty lips.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And the arched, haughty lips<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Breathed forth words as sweet as moonlight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And delicate as the fragrance of the rose.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And my soul soared aloft,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And flew like an eagle up into the heavens.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Silence ye waves and sea mews!<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">All is over! joy and hope&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span><span class="i3">Hope and love! I lie on the ground<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">An empty, shipwrecked man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And press my glowing face<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Into the moist sand.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><a name="SUNSET" id="SUNSET"></a>IV. SUNSET.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">The beautiful sun<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has quietly descended into the sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The surging water is already tinted<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">By dusky night&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But still the red of evening<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sprinkles it with golden lights.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the rushing might of the tide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Presses toward the shore the white waves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That merrily and nimbly leap<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like woolly flocks of sheep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which at evening the singing shepherd boy<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Drives homeward.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">"How beautiful is the sun!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thus spake after a long silence, the friend<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span><span class="i2">Who wandered with me on the beach.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And, half in jest, half in sober sadness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">He assured me that the sun<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Was a beautiful woman, who had for policy<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Espoused the old god of the sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All day she wanders joyously<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the lofty heavens, decked with purple,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And sparkling with diamonds;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Universally beloved, universally admired<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">By all creatures of the globe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And cheering all creatures of the globe<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With the radiance and warmth of her glance.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But at evening, wretchedly constrained,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">She returns once more<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To the wet home, to the empty arms<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Of her hoary spouse.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">"Believe me," added my friend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And laughed and sighed, and laughed again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"They live down there in the daintiest wedlock;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Either they sleep or else they quarrel,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span><span class="i1">Until high upheaves the sea above them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the sailor amidst the roaring of the waves can hear<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">How the old fellow berates his wife:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">'Round strumpet of the universe!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sunbeam coquette!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The whole day you shine for others,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And at night for me you are frosty and tired.'<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">After such curtain lectures,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Quite naturally&mdash;bursts into tears<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The proud sun, and bemoans her misery,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bemoans so lamentably long, that the sea god<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Suddenly springs desperately out of his bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And quickly swims up to the surface of the ocean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">To collect his wits and to breathe."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Thus did I myself see him yester-night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Uprise from the bosom of the sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">He had a jacket of yellow flannel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And a lily-white night cap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And a withered countenance.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4><a name="OCEANIDES" id="OCEANIDES"></a>V. THE SONG OF THE OCEANIDES.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">'Tis nightfall and paler grows the sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And alone with his lonely soul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">There sits a man on the cold strand<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And turns his death-cold glances<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Towards the vast, death-cold vault of heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And toward the vast, billowy sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">On airy sails float forth his sighs;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And melancholy they return,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And find the heart close-locked,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Wherein they fain would anchor.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he groans so loud that the white sea-mews,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Startled out of their sandy nests,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Flutter circling around him.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And he laughingly speaks to them thus:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">"Ye black-legged birds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">With white wings, oversea flutterers!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With crooked beaks, salt-water bibbers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Ye oily seal-flesh devourers!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Your life is as bitter as your food.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I, however, the fortunate, taste naught but sweets!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span><span class="i4">I taste the fragrance of the rose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The moonshine-nourished bride of the nightingale.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">I taste still sweeter sugar-plums,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Stuffed with whipped cream.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And the sweetest of all things I taste,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">The sweets of loving and of being loved!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">"She loves me, she loves me, the dear girl!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Now stands she at home on the balcony of her house,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And gazes forth in the twilight upon the street,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And listens and yearns for me,&mdash;really!<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Vainly does she glance around, and sigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And sighing she descends to the garden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And wanders midst the fragrance and the moonlight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And talks to the flowers, and tells them<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How I, her belov&egrave;d, am so lovely and so lovable&mdash;really!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Later in her bed, in her sleep, in her dreams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Blissfully she hovers about my precious image,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">So that in the morning at breakfast<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Upon the glistening buttered bread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">She sees my smiling face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And she devours it for sheer love&mdash;really!"<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Thus boasted and boasted he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And meanwhile screamed the sea-mews,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As with cold, ironical tittering.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The twilight mists ascended,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Uncannily forth from lilac clouds<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Peered the greenish-yellow moon.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Loud roared the billows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And deep from the loud roaring sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As plaintive as a whispering monsoon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sounded the song of the Oceanides&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the beautiful, compassionate mermaids,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Distinct midst them all the lovely voice<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the silver-footed spouse of Peleus&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And they sigh and sing:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh fool, thou fool, thou boasting fool,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Tormented with misery!<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Destroyed are all thy hopes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">The playful children of the heart&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And ah! thy heart, Niobe-like,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Is petrified with grief!<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">In thy brain falls the night,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span><span class="i1">And therein are unsheathed the lightnings of frenzy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And thou makest a boast of thy trouble!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Oh fool, thou fool, thou boasting fool!<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Stiff-necked art thou as thy forefather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">The lofty Titan, who stole celestial fire<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">From the gods, and bestowed it upon man.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And tortured by eagles chained to the rock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Olympus-high he flung defiance, flung defiance and groaned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Till we heard it in the depths of the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And came to him with the song of consolation.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Oh fool, thou fool, thou boasting fool!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thou, however, art more impotent still.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twere more seemly that thou shouldst honor the gods,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And patiently bear the burden of misery,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And patiently bear it, long, so long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Till Atlas himself would lose patience,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And cast from his shoulders the ponderous world<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Into eternal night."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i5">So rang the song of the Oceanides,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Of the beautiful compassionate mermaids,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span><span class="i5">Until louder waves overpowered it.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Behind the clouds retired the moon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i9">The night yawned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And I sat long thereafter in the darkness and wept.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><a name="GREECE" id="GREECE"></a>VI. THE GODS OF GREECE.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Full-blooming moon, in thy radiance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Like flowing gold shines the sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With daylight clearness, yet twilight enchantment,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Thy beams lie over the wide, level beach.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And in the pure, blue starless heavens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Float the white clouds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Like colossal images of gods<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Of gleaming marble.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">No more again! those are no clouds!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">They are themselves&mdash;the gods of Hellas,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Who erst so joyously governed the world,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">But now, supplanted and dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Yonder, like monstrous ghosts, must fare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Through the midnight skies.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Amazed and strangely dazzled, I contemplate<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The ethereal Pantheon.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">The solemnly mute, awfully agitated,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Gigantic forms.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There is Chronos yonder, the king of heaven;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Snow-white are the curls of his head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The world-renowned Olympus-shaking curls.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He holds in his hand the quenched lightning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">In his face dwell misfortune and grief;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But even yet the olden pride.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Those were better days, oh Zeus,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When thou didst celestially divert thyself<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With youths and nymphs and hecatombs.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But the gods themselves, reign not forever;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">The young supplant the old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">As thou thyself, thy hoary father,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And thy Titan-uncle didst supplant<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Jupiter-Parricida!<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Thee also, I recognize, haughty Juno;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Despite all thy jealous care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Another has wrested thy sceptre from thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And thou art no longer Queen of Heaven.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">And thy great eyes are blank,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And thy lily arms are powerless,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And nevermore may thy vengeance smite<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The divinely-quickened Virgin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And the miracle-performing son of God.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thee also I recognize, Pallas Athena!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With thy shield and thy wisdom, could'st thou not avert<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The ruin of the gods?<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Also thee I recognize, thee also, Aphrodite!<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Once the golden, now the silvern!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">'Tis true that the love-charmed zone still adorns thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">But I shudder with horror at thy beauty.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And if thy gracious body were to favor me<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Like other heroes, I should die of terror.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Thou seemest to me a goddess-corpse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Venus Libitina!<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">No longer glances toward thee with love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Yonder the dread Ares!<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">How melancholy looks Phoebus Apollo<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The youth. His lyre is silent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which once so joyously resounded at the feast of the gods.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Still sadder looks Hephaistos.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And indeed nevermore shall the limper<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stumble into the service of Hebe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And nimbly pour forth to the assemblage<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The luscious nectar. And long ago was extinguished<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The unextinguishable laughter of the gods.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">I have never loved you, ye gods!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to me are the Greeks antipathetic,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And even the Romans are hateful.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But holy compassion and sacred pity<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Penetrate my heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I now gaze upon you yonder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Deserted gods!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dead night-wandering shadows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weak as mists which the wind scares away.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when I recall how dastardly and visionary<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are the gods who have supplanted you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The new, reigning, dolorous gods,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mischief-plotters in the sheep's clothing of humility,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh then a more sullen rancor possesses me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I fain would shatter the new Temples,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span><span class="i0">And battle for you, ye ancient gods,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For you and your good ambrosial cause.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And before your high altars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rebuilt with their extinguished fires,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fain would I kneel and pray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And supplicating uplift mine arms.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Always ye ancient gods,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Even in the battles of mortals,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Always did ye espouse the cause of the victor.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But man is more magnanimous than ye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in the battles of the gods, he now takes the part<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the gods who have been vanquished.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Thus spake I, and lo, visibly blushed<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yonder the wan cloud figures,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And they gazed upon me like the dying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Transfigured by sorrow, and suddenly disappeared.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">The moon was concealed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Behind dark advancing clouds.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span><span class="i2">Loud roared the sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And triumphantly came forth in the heavens<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The eternal stars.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><a name="PHOENIX" id="PHOENIX"></a>VII. THE PH&#338;NIX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">A bird comes flying out of the West;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">He flies to the Eastward,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Towards the Eastern garden-home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where spices shed fragrance, and flourish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And palms rustle and fountains scatter coolness.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And in his flight the magic bird sings:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">"She loves him! she loves him!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She carries his portrait in her little heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And she carries it sweetly and secretly hidden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And knoweth it not herself!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But in dreams he stands before her.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">She implores and weeps and kisses his hands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And calls his name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And calling she awakes, and she lies in affright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And amazed she rubs her beautiful eyes,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She loves him! she loves him!"<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">Leaning on the mast on the upper deck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I stood and heard the bird's song.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Like blackish-green steeds with silver manes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Leapt the white crisp-curling waves.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Like flocks of swans glided past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With gleaming sails, the Helgolands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The bold nomads of the North Sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Above me in the eternal blue<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fluttered white clouds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sparkled the eternal sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The Rose of heaven, the fire-blossoming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Which joyously was mirrored in the sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the heavens and seas and mine own heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Resounded in echo&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">She loves him! she loves him!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><a name="QUESTION" id="QUESTION"></a>VIII. QUESTION.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">By the sea, by the desolate nocturnal sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Stands a youthful man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His breast full of sadness, his head full of doubt.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with bitter lips he questions the waves:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span><span class="i0">"Oh solve me the riddle of life!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The cruel, world-old riddle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Concerning which, already many a head hath been racked.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Heads in hieroglyphic-hats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Heads in turbans and in black caps,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Periwigged heads, and a thousand other<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Poor, sweating human heads.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tell me, what signifies man?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whence does he come? whither does he go?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who dwells yonder above the golden stars?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The waves murmur their eternal murmur,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The winds blow, the clouds flow past.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Cold and indifferent twinkle the stars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And a fool awaits an answer.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><a name="SICKNESS" id="SICKNESS"></a>IX. SEA-SICKNESS.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">The gray afternoon clouds<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Drop lower over the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Which darkly riseth to meet them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And between them both fares the ship.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sea-sick I still sit by the mast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all by myself indulge in meditation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those world-old ashen-gray meditations,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which erst our father Lot entertained,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When he had enjoyed too much of a good thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And afterward suffered such inconvenience.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meanwhile I think also of old stories;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How pilgrims with the cross on their breast in days of yore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On their stormy voyages, devoutly kissed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The consoling image of the blessed Virgin.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How sick knights in such ocean-trials,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pressed to their lips with equal comfort<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dear glove of their lady.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I sit and chew in vexation<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An old herring, my salty comforter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Midst caterwauling and dogged tribulation.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Meanwhile the ship wrestles<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the wild billowy tide.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like a rearing war-horse she stands erect,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon her stern, till the helm cracks.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now crashes she headforemost downward once more<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the howling abyss of waters,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then again, as if recklessly love-languid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She tries to recline<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the black bosom of the gigantic waves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which powerfully seethe upward,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And immediately a chaotic ocean-cataract<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Plunges down in crisp-curling whiteness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And covers me with foam.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This shaking and swinging and tossing<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is unendurable!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vainly mine eye peers forth and seeks<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The German coast. But alas! only water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And everywhere water&mdash;turbulent water!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">Even as the traveller in winter, thirsts<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For a warm cordial cup of tea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So does my heart now thirst for thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">My German fatherland.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May thy sweet soil ever be covered<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With lunacy, hussars and bad verses,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span><span class="i0">And thin, lukewarm treatises.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May thy zebras ever be fattened<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On roses instead of thistles.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ever may thy noble apes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Haughtily strut in negligent attire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And esteem themselves better than all other<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Priggish heavy-footed, horned cattle.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May thine assemblies of snails<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ever deem themselves immortal<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because they crawl forward so slowly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And may they daily convoke in full force,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To discuss whether the cheesemould belongs to the cheese;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still longer may they convene<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To decide how best to honor the Egyptian sheep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So that its wool may improve<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And it may be shorn like others,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">With no difference.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Forever may folly and wrong<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Cover thee all over, oh Germany,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Nevertheless I yearn towards thee&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For at least thou art dry land.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4><a name="PORT" id="PORT"></a>X. IN PORT.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Happy the man who has reached port,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And left behind the sea and the tempest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And who now sits, quietly and warm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the goodly town-cellar of Bremen.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How pleasantly and cordially<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The world is mirrored in the wine-glass.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And how the waving microcosm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pours sunnily down into the thirsty heart!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I see everything in the glass,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ancient and modern tribes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Turks and Greeks, Hegel and Gans,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Citron groves and guard-parades,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Berlin and Schilda, and Tunis and Hamburg.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Above all the image of my belov&egrave;d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The little angel-head against the golden background of Rhine-wine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh how beautiful! how beautiful thou art, belov&egrave;d!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou art like a rose.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span><span class="i2">Not like the Rose of Shiraz,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The Hafiz-besung bride of the nightingale.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Not like the Rose of Sharon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The sacred purple extolled by the prophet.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou art like the rose in the wine-cellar of Bremen.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">That is the rose of roses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The older it grows the fairer it blooms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And its celestial perfume has inspired me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And did not mine host of the town-cellar of Bremen<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Hold me fast, fast by my hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">I should tumble head over heels.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">The worthy man! we sat together,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And drank like brothers.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">We spake of lofty, mysterious things,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We sighed and sank in each other's arms.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And he led me back to the religion of love:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I drank to the health of my bitterest enemy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And I forgave all bad poets,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As I shall some day hope to be forgiven myself.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I wept with fervor of piety, and at last<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The portals of salvation were opened to me,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span><span class="i2">Where the twelve Apostles, the holy wine-butts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Preach in silence and yet so intelligibly<br /></span>
+<span class="i9">Unto all people.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i9">Those are men!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Without, unseemly in their wooden garb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Within, they are more beautiful and brilliant<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Than all the haughty Levites of the Temple,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the guards and courtiers of Herod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Decked with gold and arrayed in purple.<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">But I have always averred<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That not amidst quite common folk&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">No, in the very best society,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Perpetually abides the King of Heaven.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Hallelujah! How lovely around me<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Wave the palms of Beth-El!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">How fragrant are the myrrh-trees of Hebron!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">How the Jordan rustles and reels with joy!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And my immortal soul also reels,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And I reel with her, and, reeling,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span><span class="i2">The worthy host of the town-cellar of Bremen<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Leads me up-stairs into the light of day.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">Thou worthy host of the town-cellar of Bremen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Seest thou on the roofs of the houses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sit the angels, and they are drunk and they sing.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">The glowing sun up yonder<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Is naught but a red drunken nose.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">The nose of the spirit of the universe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And around the red nose of the spirit of the universe<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Reels the whole tipsy world.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><a name="EPILOGUE" id="EPILOGUE"></a>XI. EPILOGUE.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">Like the stalks of wheat in the fields,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">So flourish and wave in the mind of man<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">His thoughts.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">But the delicate fancies of love<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Are like gay little intermingled blossoms<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Of red and blue flowers.<br /></span>
+</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">Red and blue flowers!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The surly reaper rejects you as useless.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The wooden flail scornfully thrashes you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Even the luckless traveler,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whom your aspect delights and refreshes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Shakes his head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And calls you beautiful weeds.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">But the rustic maiden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The wearer of garlands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Honors you, and plucks you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And adorns with you her fair locks.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus decorated she hastens to the dancing-green<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where the flutes and fiddles sweetly resound;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Or to the quiet bushes<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where the voice of her beloved soundeth sweeter still<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Than fiddles or flutes.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems and Ballads of Heinrich Heine, by
+Heinrich Heine
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+</body>
+</html>
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+Project Gutenberg's Poems and Ballads of Heinrich Heine, by Heinrich Heine
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Poems and Ballads of Heinrich Heine
+
+Author: Heinrich Heine
+
+Translator: Emma Lazarus
+
+Release Date: March 21, 2010 [EBook #31726]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS/BALLADS OF HEINRICH HEINE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Meredith Bach and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ POEMS AND BALLADS
+ OF
+ HEINRICH HEINE.
+
+
+ _TRANSLATED BY EMMA LAZARUS._
+
+
+ TO WHICH IS PREFIXED
+ A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF HEINE.
+
+
+ NEW YORK:
+ R. WORTHINGTON, 770 BROADWAY.
+ 1881.
+
+
+ COPYRIGHT,
+ 1881,
+ BY EMMA LAZARUS.
+
+
+ PRESS OF J. J. LITTLE, & CO.,
+ NOS. 10 TO 20 ASTOR PLACE, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+ PAGE
+ HEINRICH HEINE, (BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH) v
+ EARLY POEMS 1
+ SONNETS TO MY MOTHER, B. HEINE, _nee_ VON GELDERN 3
+ THE SPHINX 5
+ DONNA CLARA 9
+ DON RAMIRO 15
+ TANNHAeUSER 25
+ IN THE UNDERWORLD 38
+ THE VALE OF TEARS 45
+ SOLOMON 47
+ MORPHINE 49
+ SONG 50
+ SONG 51
+ SONG 54
+ HOMEWARD BOUND 57
+ SONGS TO SERAPHINE 135
+ TO ANGELIQUE 147
+ SPRING FESTIVAL 156
+ CHILDE HAROLD 157
+ THE ASRA 158
+ HELENA 160
+ SONG 161
+ THE NORTH SEA--FIRST CYCLUS 165
+ I. CORONATION 165
+ II. TWILIGHT 167
+ III. SUNSET 168
+ IV. NIGHT ON THE SHORE 171
+ V. POSEIDON 174
+ VI. DECLARATION 177
+ VII. NIGHT IN THE CABIN 179
+ VIII. STORM 183
+ IX. CALM 185
+ X. AN APPARITION IN THE SEA 187
+ XI. PURIFICATION 190
+ XII. PEACE 192
+ SECOND CYCLUS 195
+ I. SALUTATION TO THE SEA 195
+ II. TEMPEST 198
+ III. WRECKED 199
+ IV. SUNSET 202
+ V. THE SONG OF THE OCEANIDES 205
+ VI. THE GODS OF GREECE 209
+ VII. THE PHOENIX 214
+ VIII. QUESTION 215
+ IX. SEA-SICKNESS 216
+ X. IN PORT 220
+ XI. EPILOGUE 223
+
+
+
+
+HEINRICH HEINE.
+
+(BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.)
+
+
+Harry Heine, as he was originally named, was born in Duesseldorf on the
+Rhine, December 13th, 1799. His father was a well-to-do Jewish
+merchant; and his mother, the daughter of the famous physician and
+Aulic Counlor Von Geldern, was, according to her son, a "_femme
+distinguee_." His early childhood fell in the days of the occupation
+of Duesseldorf by the French revolutionary troops; and, in the opinion
+of his biographer Strodtmann, the influence of the French rule, thus
+brought directly to bear upon the formation of his character, can
+scarcely be exaggerated. His education was begun at the Franciscan
+monastery of the Jesuits at Duesseldorf, where the teachers were
+mostly French priests; and his religious instruction was at the same
+time carried on in a private Jewish school. His principal companions
+were Jewish children, and he was brought up with a rigid adherence to
+the Hebrew faith. Thus in the very seed-time of his mental development
+were simultaneously sown the germs of that Gallic liveliness and
+mobility which pre-eminently distinguish him among German authors, and
+also of his ineradicable sympathy with things Jewish, and his
+inveterate antagonism to the principles and results of Christianity.
+
+As the medical profession was in those days the only one open to Jews
+in Germany, the boy Heine was destined for a commercial career; and in
+1815 his father took him to Frankfort to establish him in a
+banking-house. But a brief trial proved that he was utterly unsuited
+to the situation, and after two months he was back again in
+Duesseldorf. Three years later he went to Hamburg, and made another
+attempt to adopt a mercantile pursuit under the auspices of his uncle,
+the wealthy banker Solomon Heine. The millionaire, however, was very
+soon convinced that the "fool of a boy" would never be fit for a
+counting-house, and declared himself willing to furnish his nephew
+with the means for a three years, course at the university, in order
+to obtain a doctor's degree and practice law in Hamburg. It was
+well-known that this would necessitate Harry's adoption of
+Christianity; but his proselytism did not strike those whom it most
+nearly concerned in the same way as it has impressed the world. So far
+from this being the case, he wrote in 1823 to his friend Moser: "Here
+the question of baptism enters; none of my family is opposed to it
+except myself; but this _myself_ is of a peculiar nature. With my mode
+of thinking, you can imagine that the mere act of baptism is
+indifferent to me; that even symbolically I do not consider it of any
+importance, and that I shall only dedicate myself more entirely to
+upholding the rights of my unhappy brethren. But, nevertheless, I find
+it beneath my dignity and a taint upon my honor, to allow myself to be
+baptized in order to hold office in Prussia. I understand very well
+the Psalmist's words: 'Good God, give me my daily bread, that I may
+not blaspheme thy name!'"
+
+The uncle's offer was accepted. In 1819 Harry Heine entered the
+university of Bonn. During his stay in Hamburg began his unrequited
+passion for a cousin who lived in that city--a passion which inspired
+a large portion of his poetry, and indeed gave the keynote to his
+whole tone and spirit. He sings so many different versions of the same
+story of disappointment, that it is impossible to ascertain, with all
+his frank and passionate confidences, the true course of the affair.
+After a few months at Bonn, he removed to the university of Goettingen,
+which he left in 1822 for Berlin. There is no other period in the
+poet's career on which it is so pleasant to linger as on the two years
+of his residence in the Prussian capital. In his first prose work, the
+_Letters from Berlin_, published in the _Rhenish-Westphalian
+Indicator_, he has painted a vivid picture of the life and gayety of
+the city during its most brilliant season. "At the last rout I was
+particularly gay, I was so beside myself, that I really do not know
+why I did not walk on my head. If my most mortal enemy had crossed my
+path, I should have said to him, To-morrow we will kill each other,
+but to-night I will cordially cover you with kisses. _Tu es beau, tu
+es charmant! Tu es l'objet de ma_ _flamme je t'adore, ma belle!_
+these were the words my lips repeated instinctively a hundred times;
+and I pressed everybody's hand, and I took off my hat gracefully to
+everybody, and all the men returned my civilities. Only one German
+youth played the boor, and railed against what he called my aping the
+manners of the foreign Babylon; and growled out in his old Teutonic,
+beer-drinking bass voice, 'At a _cherman_ masquerade, a _Cherman_
+should speak _Cherman_.' Oh German youth! how thy words strike me as
+not only silly, but almost blasphemous at such moments, when my soul
+lovingly embraces the entire universe, when I would fain joyfully
+embrace Russians and Turks, and throw myself in tears on the breast of
+my brother the enslaved African!"
+
+The doors of the most delightful, intellectual society of Germany were
+opened to the handsome young poet, who is described in a contemporary
+sketch as "beardless, blonde and pale, without any prominent feature
+in his face, but of so peculiar a stamp that he attracted the
+attention at once, and was not readily forgotten."
+
+The daughter of Elise von Hohenhausen, the translator of Byron, has
+given us a charming sketch of her mother's Thursday evening
+receptions, which Heine regularly attended, and where he read aloud
+the unpublished manuscripts of his _Lyrical Intermezzo_, and his
+tragidies, _Almansor_ and _Ratcliffe_. "He was obliged to submit,"
+writes Mlle. von Hohenhausen, "to many a harsh criticism, to much
+severe censure; above all, he was subjected to a great deal of
+chaffing about his poetic sentimentality, which a few years later
+awakened so warm a response in the hearts of German youth. The poem,
+ending, _Zu deinen suessen Fuessen_ ('At thy sweet feet'), met with such
+laughing opposition, that he omitted it from the published edition.
+Opinions of his talents were various; a small minority had any
+suspicion of his future undisputed poetical fame. Elise von
+Hohenhausen, who gave him the name of the German Byron, met with many
+contradictions. This recognition, however, assured her an imperishable
+gratitude on Heine's part."
+
+Not only his social and intellectual faculties found abundant stimulus
+in this bracing atmosphere, but his moral convictions were directed
+and strengthened by the philosophy and personal influence of Hegel,
+and his sympathies with his own race were aroused to enthusiastic
+activity by the intelligent Jews who were at that time laboring in
+Berlin for the advancement of their oppressed brethren. In 1819 had
+been formed the "Society for the Culture and Improvement of the Jews,"
+which, though centered in Berlin, counted members all over Prussia, as
+well as in Vienna, Copenhagen, and New York. Heine joined it in 1822,
+and became one of its most influential members. In the educational
+establishment of the _Verein_, he gave for several months three hours
+of historical instruction a week. He frankly confessed that he, the
+"born enemy of all positive religions," was no enthusiast for the
+Hebrew faith, but he was none the less eager to proclaim himself an
+enthusiast for the rights of the Jews and their civil equality.
+
+During his brief visit to Frankfort, he had had personal experience of
+the degrading conditions to which his people were subjected.
+
+The contrast between his choice of residence for twenty-five years in
+Paris, and the tenacity with which Goethe clung to his home, is not as
+strongly marked as the contrast between the relative positions in
+Frankfort of these two men. Goethe, the grandson of the honored
+chief-magistrate, surrounded in his cheerful burgher-life, as Carlyle
+says, by "kind plenty, secure affection, manifold excitement and
+instruction," might well cherish golden memories of his native city.
+For him, the gloomy _Judengasse_, which he occasionally passed, where
+"squalid, painful Hebrews were banished to scour old clothes," was but
+a dark spot that only heightened the prevailing brightness of the
+picture. But to this wretched by-way was relegated that other
+beauty-enamored, artist-soul, Heine, when he dared set foot in the
+imperial Free Town. Here must he be locked in like a wild beast, with
+his miserable brethren every Sunday afternoon. And if the restrictions
+were a little less barbarous in other parts of Germany, yet how shall
+we characterize a national policy which closed to such a man as Heine
+every career that could give free play to his genius, and offered him
+the choice between money changing and medicine?
+
+It was not till he had exhausted every means of endeavoring to secure
+a remission of the humiliating decree that he consented to the public
+act of apostasy, and was baptized in the summer of 1825 in the
+Lutheran parsonage of Heiligenstadt with the name of Johann Christian
+Heinrich. During the period of his earnest labors for Judaism, he had
+buried himself with fervid zeal in the lore of his race, and had
+conceived the idea of a prose-legend, the _Rabbi of Bacharach_,
+illustrating the persecutions of his people during the middle ages.
+Accounts vary as to the fate of this work; some affirm that the
+manuscript was destroyed in a fire at Hamburg, and others that the
+three chapters which the world possesses are all that were ever
+completed. Heine, one of the most subjective of poets, treats this
+theme in a purely objective manner. He does not allow himself a word
+of comment, much less of condemnation concerning the outrages he
+depicts. He paints the scene as an artist, not as the passionate
+fellow-sufferer and avenger that he is. But what subtle eloquence
+lurks in that restrained cry of horror and indignation which never
+breaks forth, and yet which we feel through every line, gathering
+itself up like thunder on the horizon for a terrific outbreak at the
+end!
+
+Would that we could hear the explosion burst at last! We long for it
+throughout as the climax and the necessary result of the lowering
+electric influences of the story, and we lay aside the never-to-be
+completed fragment with the oppression of a nightmare. But a note of
+such tremendous power as Heine had struck in this romance, required
+for its prolonged sustention a singleness of purpose and an exaltation
+of belief in its efficacy and truth, which he no longer possessed
+after his renunciation of Judaism. He was no longer at one with
+himself, for no sooner was the irrevocable step taken than it was
+bitterly repented, not as a recantation of his principles--for as
+such, no one who follows the development of his mind can regard
+it,--but as an unworthy concession to tyrannic injustice. How
+sensitive he remained in respect to the whole question is proved most
+conspicuously by his refraining on all occasions from signing his
+Christian name, Heinrich. Even his works he caused to appear under the
+name of H. Heine, and was once extremely angry with his publisher for
+allowing by mistake the full name to be printed.
+
+The collection of poems in prose and verse known as the _Reisebilder_,
+embraced several years of Heine's literary activity, and represent
+widely-varying phases of his intellectual development. We need only
+turn to the volumes themselves to guess how bitter an experience must
+have filled the gap between the buoyant stream of sunny inspiration
+that ripples through the _Harz-Reise_, and the fierce spirit of
+vindictive malice which prompted Heine, six years later, to conclude
+his third and last volume with his unseemly diatribe against Count
+Platen. Notwithstanding their inequalities, the _Reisebilder_ remain
+one of the surest props of Heine's fame. So clear and perfect an
+utterance is sufficiently rare in all languages; but it becomes little
+short of a miracle when, as in this case, the medium of its
+transmission is German prose, a vehicle so bulky and unwieldy that no
+one before Heine had dared to enlist it in the service of airy
+phantasy, delicate humor and sparkling wit.
+
+During the summer of 1830, while he was loitering at Helgoland, he was
+roused to feverish excitement by the news of the July Revolution. He
+inveighed against the nobility in a preface to a pamphlet, called
+_Kahldorf on the Nobility_, which largely increased the number of his
+powerful enemies. The literary censorship had long mutilated his prose
+writings, besides materially diminishing his legitimate income by
+prohibiting the sale of many of his works. He now began to fear that
+his personal liberty would be restricted as summarily as his literary
+activity; and in May, 1831, he took up his residence in Paris. He
+perfected himself in the French language, and by his brilliant essays
+on French art, German philosophy, and the Romantic School, soon
+acquired the reputation of one of the best prose writers of France,
+and the "wittiest Frenchman since Voltaire." He became deeply
+interested in the doctrine of St. Simonism, then at its culminating
+point in Paris. Its central idea of the rehabilitation of the flesh,
+and the sacredness of labor, found an enthusiastic champion in him who
+had so long denounced the impracticable spiritualism of Christianity.
+He, the logical clear-headed sceptic in all matters pertaining to
+existing systems and creeds, seems possessed with the credulity of a
+child in regard to every scheme of human regeneration, or shall we
+call it the exaltation of the Jew, for whom the Messiah has not yet
+arrived, but is none the less confidently and hourly expected?
+Embittered by repeated disappointments, by his enforced exile, by a
+nervous disease which had afflicted him from his youth, and was now
+fast gaining upon him, and by the impending shadow of actual want,
+Heine's tone now assumes a concentrated acridity, and his poetry
+acquires a reckless audacity of theme and treatment. His _Neue
+Lieder_, addressed to notorious Parisian women, were regarded as an
+insult to decency. In literary merit many of them vie with the best of
+his earlier songs; but the daring defiance of public opinion displayed
+in the choice of subject excluded all other criticism than that of
+indignation and rebuke. There is but a single ray to lighten the
+gathering gloom of Heine's life at this period. In a letter dated,
+April 11th, 1835, occurs his first mention of his _liaison_ with the
+grisette Mathilde Crescence Mirat, who afterwards became his wife.
+This uneducated, simple-hearted, affectionate child-wife inspired in
+the poet, weary of intellectual strife, a love as tender and constant
+as it had been sudden and passionate. A variety of circumstances
+having combined to reduce Heine to extreme want, he had recourse to a
+step which has been very severely censured. He applied for and
+received from the French government a pension from the fund set aside
+for "all those who by their zeal for the cause of the Revolution had
+more or less compromised themselves at home or abroad." Now that the
+particulars of the case are so well known, it would be superfluous to
+add any words of justification; it can only excite our sympathy for
+the haughty poet doomed to drain so bitter a cup. He was pressed to
+take the oath of naturalization, but he had too painful experience of
+the renunciation of his birthright ever to consent to a repetition of
+his error. He would not forfeit the right to have inscribed upon his
+tomb-stone: "Here lies a German poet."
+
+In 1844 his uncle Solomon died; and, as there was no stipulation in
+the banker's will that the yearly allowance hitherto granted to
+Heinrich should continue, the oldest heir Karl announced that this
+would altogether cease. This very cousin Karl had been nursed by Heine
+at the risk of his own life during the cholera-plague of 1832 in
+Paris. The grief and excitement caused by his kinsman's ingratitude
+fearfully accelerated the progress of the malady which had long been
+gaining upon the poet, and which proved to be a softening of the
+spinal cord. One eye was paralyzed, he lost the sense of taste, and
+complained that everything he ate was like clay. His physicians
+agreed that he had few weeks to live, and he felt that he was dying,
+little divining that the agony was to be prolonged for ten horrible
+years. It is unnecessary to dwell upon these years of darkness, in
+which Heine, shriveled to the proportions of a child, languished upon
+his "mattress-grave" in Paris. His patient resignation, his
+indomitable will, his sweetness and gayety of temper, and his
+unimpaired vigor and fertility of intellect, are too fresh in the
+memory of many living witnesses, and have been too frequently and
+recently described to make it needful here to enlarge upon them. In
+the crucial hour he proved no recreant to the convictions for which he
+had battled and bled during a lifetime. Of the report that his illness
+had materially modified his religious opinions, he has left a complete
+and emphatic denial. "I must expressly contradict the rumor that I
+have retreated to the threshold of any sort of church, or that I have
+reposed upon its bosom. No! My religious views and convictions have
+remained free from all churchdom; no belfry chime has allured me, no
+altar taper has dazzled me. I have trifled with no symbol, and have
+not utterly renounced my reason. I have forsworn nothing--not even my
+old pagan-gods, from whom it is true I have parted, but parted in love
+and friendship."
+
+"I am no longer a divine biped," he wrote. "I am no longer the freest
+German after Goethe, as Ruge named me in healthier days. I am no
+longer the great hero No. 2, who was compared with the grape-crowned
+Dionysius, whilst my colleague No. 1 enjoyed the title of a Grand
+Ducal Wlimarian Jupiter. I am no longer a joyous, somewhat corpulent
+Hellenist, laughing cheerfully down upon the melancholy Nazarenes. I
+am now a poor fatally-ill Jew, an emaciated picture of woe, an unhappy
+man."
+
+Thus side by side flowed on the continuous streams of that wit and
+pathos which he poured forth inexhaustibly to the very end. No word of
+complaint or impatience ever passed his lips; on the contrary, with
+his old, irresistible humor, his fancy played about his own privations
+and sufferings, and tried to alleviate for his devoted wife and
+friends the pain of the heart-rending spectacle. His delicate
+consideration prompted him to spare his venerable mother all knowledge
+of his illness. He wrote to her every month in his customary cheerful
+way; and, in sending her the latest volumes of his poetry, he caused a
+separate copy always to be printed, from which all allusions to his
+malady were expunged. "For that matter," he said, "that any son could
+be as wretched and miserable as I, no mother would believe."
+
+Alas! if he had known how much more eloquent and noble a refutation
+his life would afford than his mistaken passionate response to the
+imputations of his enemies! Is this patient martyr the man of whom
+Boerne wrote: "with his sybarite nature, the fall of a rose-leaf can
+disturb Heine's slumber. He whom all asperities fatigue, whom all
+discords trouble, let such a one neither move nor think--let him go to
+bed and shut his eyes."
+
+Only in his last poems, which were not to be published till after his
+death, has Heine given free vent to the bitterness of his anguish.
+During the long sleepless night when he lay writhing with pain or
+exhausted by previous paroxysms, his mind, preternaturally clear and
+vigorous, conceived the glowing fantasies of the _Romancero_, or the
+Job-like lamentations of the _Lazarus_ poems. This mental exercise was
+his protection against insanity: and the thought of his cherished
+wife, he affirmed, was his only safeguard against the delirious desire
+to seize the morphine bottle by his side, and with one draught put an
+end to his agony. On the night of the 16th of February, 1856, came the
+long-craved release--and on the 20th of February without mass or
+"Kaddish," according to his express wish, he was buried in the
+cemetery of Montmartre.
+
+
+
+
+EARLY POEMS.
+
+
+
+
+SONNETS TO MY MOTHER, B. HEINE, _nee_ VON GELDERN.
+
+
+I.
+
+ I have been wont to bear my forehead high--
+ My stubborn temper yields with no good grace.
+ The king himself might look me in the face,
+ And yet I would not downward cast mine eye.
+ But I confess, dear mother, openly,
+ However proud my haughty spirit swell,
+ When I within thy blessed presence dwell,
+ Oft am I smit with shy humility.
+ Is it thy soul, with secret influence,
+ Thy lofty soul piercing all shows of sense,
+ Which soareth, heaven-born, to heaven again?
+ Or springs it from sad memories that tell
+ How many a time I caused thy dear heart pain,
+ Thy gentle heart, that loveth me so well!
+
+
+II.
+
+ In fond delusion once I left thy side;
+ Unto the wide world's end I fain would fare,
+ To see if I might find Love anywhere,
+ And lovingly embrace Love as a bride.
+ Love sought I in all paths, at every gate;
+ Oft and again outstretching suppliant palms,
+ I begged in vain of Love the slightest alms,
+ But the world laughed and offered me cold hate.
+ Forever I aspired towards Love, forever
+ Towards Love, and ne'ertheless I found Love never,--
+ And sick at heart, homeward my steps did move.
+ And lo! thou comest forth to welcome me;
+ And that which in thy swimming eyes I see,
+ That is the precious, the long-looked-for Love.
+
+
+
+
+THE SPHINX.
+
+
+ This is the old enchanted wood,
+ Sweet lime trees scent the wind;
+ The glamor of the moon has cast
+ A spell upon my mind.
+
+ Onward I walk, and as I walk--
+ Hark to that high, soft strain!
+ That is the nightingale, she sings,
+ Of love and of love's pain.
+
+ She sings of love and of love's pain,
+ Of laughter and of tears.
+ So plaintive her carol, so joyous her sobs,
+ I dream of forgotten years.
+
+ Onward I walk, and as I walk,
+ There stands before mine eyes
+ A castle proud on an open lawn,
+ Whose gables high uprise.
+
+ With casements closed, and everywhere
+ Sad silence in court and halls,
+ It seemed as though mute death abode
+ Within those barren walls.
+
+ Before the doorway crouched a sphinx,
+ Half horror and half grace;
+ With a lion's body, a lion's claws,
+ And a woman's breast and face.
+
+ A woman fair! The marble glance
+ Spake wild desire and guile.
+ The silent lips were proudly curled
+ In a confident, glad smile.
+
+ The nightingale, she sang so sweet,
+ I yielded to her tone.
+ I touched, I kissed the lovely face,
+ And lo, I was undone!
+
+ The marble image stirred with life,
+ The stone began to move;
+ She drank my fiery kisses' glow
+ With panting thirsty love.
+
+ She well nigh drank my breath away;
+ And, lustful still for more,
+ Embraced me, and my shrinking flesh
+ With lion claws she tore.
+
+ Oh, rapturous martyrdom! ravishing pain!
+ Oh, infinite anguish and bliss!
+ With her horrible talons she wounded me,
+ While she thrilled my soul with a kiss.
+
+ The nightingale sang: "Oh beautiful sphinx.
+ Oh love! what meaneth this?
+ That thou minglest still the pangs of death
+ With thy most peculiar bliss?
+
+ Thou beautiful Sphinx, oh solve for me
+ This riddle of joy and tears!
+ I have pondered it over again and again,
+ How many thousand years!"
+
+
+
+
+DONNA CLARA.
+
+
+ In the evening through her garden
+ Wanders the Alcalde's daughter;
+ Festal sounds of drum and trumpet
+ Ring out hither from the castle.
+
+ "I am weary of the dances,
+ Honeyed words of adulation
+ From the knights who still compare me
+ To the sun,--with dainty phrases.
+
+ "Yes, of all things I am weary,
+ Since I first beheld by moonlight,
+ Him my cavalier, whose zither
+ Nightly draws me to my casement.
+
+ "As he stands, so slim and daring,
+ With his flaming eyes that sparkle
+ From his nobly-pallid features,
+ Truly he St. George resembles."
+
+ Thus went Donna Clara dreaming,
+ On the ground her eyes were fastened,
+ When she raised them, lo! before her
+ Stood the handsome, knightly stranger.
+
+ Pressing hands and whispering passion,
+ These twain wander in the moonlight.
+ Gently doth the breeze caress them,
+ The enchanted roses greet them.
+
+ The enchanted roses greet them,
+ And they glow like love's own heralds;
+ "Tell me, tell me, my beloved,
+ Wherefore, all at once thou blushest."
+
+ "Gnats were stinging me, my darling,
+ And I hate these gnats in summer,
+ E'en as though they were a rabble
+ Of vile Jews with long, hooked noses."
+
+ "Heed not gnats nor Jews, beloved,"
+ Spake the knight with fond endearments.
+ From the almond-tree dropped downward
+ Myriad snowy flakes of blossoms.
+
+ Myriad snowy flakes of blossoms
+ Shed around them fragrant odors.
+ "Tell me, tell me, my beloved,
+ Looks thy heart on me with favor?"
+
+ "Yes, I love thee, oh my darling,
+ And I swear it by our Savior,
+ Whom the accursed Jews did murder
+ Long ago with wicked malice."
+
+ "Heed thou neither Jews nor Savior,"
+ Spake the knight with fond endearments;
+ Far-off waved as in a vision
+ Gleaming lilies bathed in moonlight.
+
+ Gleaming lilies bathed in moonlight
+ Seemed to watch the stars above them.
+ "Tell me, tell me, my beloved,
+ Didst thou not erewhile swear falsely?"
+
+ "Naught is false in me, my darling,
+ E'en as in my bosom floweth
+ Not a drop of blood that's Moorish,
+ Neither of foul Jewish current."
+
+ "Heed not Moors nor Jews, beloved,"
+ Spake the knight with fond endearments.
+ Then towards a grove of myrtles
+ Leads he the Alcalde's daughter.
+
+ And with love's slight, subtle meshes,
+ He hath trapped her and entangled;
+ Brief their words, but long their kisses,
+ For their hearts are overflowing.
+
+ What a melting bridal carol,
+ Sings the nightingale, the pure one!
+ How the fire-flies in the grasses
+ Trip their sparkling, torch-light dances!
+
+ In the grove the silence deepens;
+ Naught is heard save furtive rustling
+ Of the swaying myrtle branches,
+ And the breathing of the flowers.
+
+ But the sound of drum and trumpet
+ Burst forth sudden from the castle.
+ Rudely they awaken Clara,
+ Pillowed on her lover's bosom.
+
+ "Hark, they summon me, my darling.
+ But before I go, oh tell me,
+ Tell me what thy precious name is,
+ Which so closely thou hast hidden."
+
+ And the knight, with gentle laughter,
+ Kissed the fingers of his donna,
+ Kissed her lips and kissed her forehead,
+ And at last these words he uttered:
+
+ "I, Senora, your beloved,
+ Am the son of the respected
+ Worthy, erudite Grand Rabbi,
+ Israel of Saragossa!"
+
+
+
+
+DON RAMIRO.
+
+
+ "Donna Clara! Donna Clara!
+ Hotly-loved through years of passion!
+ Thou hast wrought me mine undoing,
+ And hast wrought it without mercy!
+
+ "Donna Clara! Donna Clara!
+ Still the gift of life is pleasant.
+ But beneath the earth 'tis frightful,
+ In the grave so cold and darksome.
+
+ "Donna Clara! Laugh, be merry,
+ For to-morrow shall Fernando
+ Greet thee at the nuptial altar.
+ Wilt thou bid me to the wedding?"
+
+ "Don Ramiro! Don Ramiro!
+ Very bitter sounds thy language,
+ Bitterer than the stars' decrees are,
+ Which bemock my heart's desire.
+
+ "Don Ramiro! Don Ramiro!
+ Cast aside thy gloomy temper.
+ In the world are many maidens,
+ But us twain the Lord hath parted.
+
+ "Don Ramiro, thou who bravely
+ Many and many a man hast conquered,
+ Conquer now thyself,--to-morrow
+ Come and greet me at my wedding."
+
+ "Donna Clara! Donna Clara!
+ Yes, I swear it. I am coming.
+ I will dance with thee the measure.
+ Now good-night! I come to-morrow."
+
+ "So good-night!" The casement rattled,
+ Sighing neath it, stood Ramiro.
+ Long he stood a stony statue,
+ Then amidst the darkness vanished.
+
+ After long and weary struggling,
+ Night must yield unto the daylight.
+ Like a many-colored garden,
+ Lies the city of Toledo.
+
+ Palaces and stately fabrics
+ Shimmer in the morning sunshine.
+ And the lofty domes of churches
+ Glitter as with gold incrusted.
+
+ Humming like a swarm of insects,
+ Ring the bells their festal carol.
+ With sweet tones the sacred anthem
+ From each house of God ascendeth.
+
+ But behold, behold! beyond there,
+ Yonder from the market-chapel,
+ With a billowing and a swaying,
+ Streams the motley throng of people.
+
+ Gallant knights and noble ladies,
+ In their holiday apparel;
+ While the pealing bells ring clearly,
+ And the deep-voiced organ murmurs.
+
+ But a reverential passage
+ In the people's midst is opened,
+ For the richly-clad young couple,
+ Donna Clara, Don Fernando.
+
+ To the bridegroom's palace-threshold,
+ Wind the waving throngs of people;
+ There the wedding feast beginneth,
+ Pompous in the olden fashion.
+
+ Knightly games and open table,
+ Interspersed with joyous laughter,
+ Quickly flying, speed the hours,
+ Till the night again hath fallen.
+
+ And the wedding-guests assemble
+ For the dance within the palace,
+ And their many-colored raiment
+ Glitters in the light of tapers.
+
+ Seated on a lofty dais,
+ Side by side, are bride and bridegroom,
+ Donna Clara, Don Fernando,--
+ And they murmur sweet love-whispers.
+
+ And within the hall wave brightly
+ All the gay-decked streams of dancers;
+ And the rolling drums are beaten.
+ Shrill the clamorous trumpet soundeth.
+
+ "Wherefore, wherefore, beauteous lady,
+ Are thy lovely glances fastened
+ Yonder in the hall's far corner?"
+ In amazement asked Fernando.
+
+ "See'st thou not, oh Don Fernando,
+ Yonder man in sable mantle?"
+ And the knight spake, kindly smiling,
+ "Why, 'tis nothing but a shadow."
+
+ But the shadow drew anear them,
+ 'Twas a man in sable mantle.
+ Clara knows at once Ramiro,
+ And she greets him, blushing crimson.
+
+ And the dance begins already,
+ Gaily whirl around the dancers
+ In the waltz's reckless circles,
+ Till the firm floor creaks and trembles.
+
+ "Yes, with pleasure, Don Ramiro,
+ I will dance with thee the measure;
+ But in such a night-black mantle
+ Thou shouldst never have come hither."
+
+ With fixed, piercing eyes, Ramiro
+ Gazes on the lovely lady.
+ Then embracing her, speaks strangely,--
+ "At thy bidding I came hither."
+
+ In the wild whirl of the measure,
+ Press and turn the dancing couple,
+ And the rolling drums are beaten,
+ Shrill the clamorous trumpet soundeth.
+
+ "White as driven snow thy cheeks are!"
+ Whispers Clara, inly trembling.
+ "At thy bidding I came hither,"
+ Hollow ring Ramiro's accents.
+
+ In the hall the tapers flicker,
+ With the eddying stream of dancers,
+ And the rolling drums are beaten,
+ Shrill the clamorous trumpet soundeth.
+
+ "Cold as ice I feel thy fingers,"
+ Whispers Clara, thrilled with terror.
+ "At thy bidding I came hither."
+ And they rush on in the vortex.
+
+ "Leave me, leave me, Don Ramiro!
+ Like a corpse's scent thy breath is."
+ Once again the gloomy sentence,
+ "At thy bidding I came hither."
+
+ And the firm floor glows and rustles,
+ Merry sound the horns and fiddles;
+ Like a woof of strange enchantment,
+ All within the hall is whirling.
+
+ "Leave me, leave me, Don Ramiro!"
+ All is waving and revolving.
+ Don Ramiro still repeateth,
+ "At thy bidding I came hither."
+
+ "In the name of God, begone then!"
+ Clara shrieked, with steadfast accent.
+ And the word was scarcely spoken,
+ When Ramiro had evanished.
+
+ Clara stiffens! deathly pallid,
+ Numb with cold, with night encompassed.
+ In a swoon the lovely creature
+ To the shadowy realm is wafted.
+
+ But the misty slumber passes,
+ And at last she lifts her eyelids.
+ Then again from sheer amazement
+ Her fair eyes at once she closes.
+
+ For she sees she hath not risen,
+ Since the dance's first beginning.
+ Still she sits beside the bridegroom,
+ And he speaks with anxious question.
+
+ "Say, why waxed thy cheek so pallid?
+ Wherefore filled thine eyes with shadows?"
+ "And Ramiro?" stammers Clara,
+ And her tongue is glued with horror.
+
+ But with deep and serious furrows
+ Is the bridegroom's forehead wrinkled.
+ "Lady, ask not bloody tidings--
+ Don Ramiro died this morning."
+
+
+
+
+TANNHAeUSER.
+
+A LEGEND.
+
+
+I.
+
+ Good Christians all, be not entrapped
+ In Satan's cunning snare.
+ I sing the lay of Tannhaeuser,
+ To bid your souls beware.
+
+ Brave Tannhaeuser, a noble knight,
+ Would love and pleasure win.
+ These lured him to the Venusberg.
+ Seven years he bode therein.
+
+ "Dame Venus, loveliest of dames,
+ Farewell, my life, my bride.
+ Oh give me leave to part from thee,
+ No longer may I bide."
+
+ "My noble knight, my Tannhaeuser,
+ Thou'st kissed me not to-day.
+ Come, kiss me quick, and tell me now,
+ What lack'st thou here, I pray?
+
+ "Have I not poured the sweetest wine
+ Daily for thee, my spouse?
+ And have I not with roses, dear,
+ Each day enwreathed thy brows?"
+
+ "Dame Venus, loveliest of dames,
+ My soul is sick, I swear,
+ Of kisses, roses and sweet wine,
+ And craveth bitter fare.
+
+ "We have laughed and jested far too much,
+ And I yearn for tears this morn.
+ Would that my head no rose-wreath wore,
+ But a crown of sharpest thorn."
+
+ "My noble knight, my Tannhaeuser,
+ To vex me thou art fain.
+ Hast thou not sworn a thousand times
+ To leave me never again?
+
+ "Come! to my chamber let us go;
+ Our love shall be secret there.
+ And thy gloomy thoughts shall vanish at sight
+ Of my lily-white body fair."
+
+ "Dame Venus, loveliest of dames,
+ Immortal thy charms remain.
+ As many have loved thee ere to-day,
+ So many shall love again.
+
+ "But when I think of the heroes and gods,
+ Who feasted long ago,
+ Upon thy lily-white body fair,
+ Then sad at heart I grow.
+
+ Thy lily-white body filleth me
+ With loathing, for I see
+ How many more in years to come
+ Shall enjoy thee, after me."
+
+ "My noble knight, my Tannhaeuser,
+ Such words thou should'st not say.
+ Far liefer had I thou dealt'st me a blow,
+ As often ere this day.
+
+ "Far liefer had I thou should'st strike me low,
+ Than such an insult speak;
+ Cold, thankless Christian that thou art,
+ Thus the pride of my heart to break.
+
+ "Because I have loved thee far too well,
+ To hear such words is my fate,
+ Farewell! I give thee free leave to go.
+ Myself, I open the gate!"
+
+
+II.
+
+ In Rome, in Rome, in the holy town,
+ To the music of chimes and of song,
+ A stately procession moves,--the Pope
+ Strides in the midst of the throng.
+
+ This is the pious Pope Urbain;
+ The triple crown he wears,
+ The crimson robe,--and many a lord
+ The train of his garment bears.
+
+ "Oh, holy Father, Pope Urbain,
+ I have a tale to tell;
+ I stir not hence, till thou shrivest me,
+ And savest me from hell."
+
+ The people stand in a circle near,
+ And the priestly anthems cease;
+ Who is the pilgrim wan and wild,
+ Who falleth upon his knees?
+
+ "Oh, holy Father, Pope Urbain,
+ Who canst bind and loose as well,
+ Now save me from the evil one,
+ And from the pains of hell.
+
+ "I am the noble Tannhaeuser,
+ Who love and lust would win,
+ These lured me to the Venusberg,
+ Seven years I bode therein.
+
+ "Dame Venus is a beauteous dame,
+ Her charms have a subtle glow.
+ Like sunshine with fragrance of flowers blent
+ Is her voice so soft and low.
+
+ "As the butterfly flutters anigh a flower,
+ From its delicate chalice sips,
+ In such wise ever fluttered my soul
+ Anigh to her rosy lips.
+
+ "Her rich black ringlets floating loose,
+ Her noble face enwreath.
+ When once her large eyes rest on thee,
+ Thou canst not stir nor breathe.
+
+ "When once her large eyes rest on thee,
+ With chains thou art bounden fast;
+ 'Twas only in sorest need I chanced
+ To flee from her hill at last.
+
+ "From her hill at last I have escaped,
+ But through all the livelong day,
+ Those beautiful eyes still follow me.
+ 'Come back!' they seem to say.
+
+ "A lifeless ghost all day I pine,
+ But at night I dream of my bride,
+ And then my spirit awakes in me.
+ She laughs and sits by my side.
+
+ "How hearty, how happy, how reckless her laugh!
+ How the pearly white teeth outpeep!
+ Ah! when I remember that laugh of hers,
+ Then sudden tears must I weep.
+
+ "I love her, I love her with all my might,
+ And nothing my love can stay,
+ 'Tis like to a rushing cataract,
+ Whose force no man can sway.
+
+ "For it dashes on from cliff to cliff,
+ And roareth and foameth still.
+ Though it break its neck a thousand times,
+ Its course it would yet fulfill.
+
+ "Were all of the boundless heavens mine,
+ I would give them all to her,
+ I would give her the sun, I would give her the moon
+ And each star in its shining sphere.
+
+ "I love her, I love her with all my might,
+ With a flame that devoureth me.
+ Can these be already the fires of hell,
+ That shall glow eternally?
+
+ "Oh, holy Father, Pope Urbain,
+ Who canst bind and loose as well,
+ Now save me from the evil one,
+ And from the pains of hell!"
+
+ Sadly the Pope upraised his hand,
+ And sadly began to speak:
+ "Tannhaeuser, most wretched of all men,
+ This spell thou canst not break.
+
+ "The devil called Venus is the worst
+ Amongst all we name as such.
+ And nevermore canst thou be redeemed
+ From the beautiful witch's clutch.
+
+ "Thou with thy spirit must atone
+ For the joys thou hast loved so well;
+ Accursed art thou! thou are condemned
+ Unto everlasting hell!"
+
+
+III.
+
+ So quickly fared Sir Tannhaeuser,--
+ His feet were bleeding and torn--
+ Back to the Venusberg he came,
+ Ere the earliest streak of morn.
+
+ Dame Venus, awakened from her sleep,
+ From her bed upsprang in haste.
+ Already she hath with her arms so white
+ Her darling spouse embraced.
+
+ Forth from her nose outstreams the blood,
+ The tears from her eyelids start;
+ She moistens the face of her darling spouse
+ With the tears and blood of her heart.
+
+ The knight lay down upon her bed,
+ And not a word he spake;
+ Dame Venus to the kitchen went
+ A bowl of broth to make.
+
+ She gave him broth, she gave him bread,
+ She bathed his wounded feet;
+ She combed for him his matted hair,
+ And laughed so low and sweet:
+
+ "My noble knight, my Tannhaeuser,
+ Long hast thou left my side.
+ Now tell me in what foreign lands
+ So long thou couldst abide."
+
+ "Dame Venus, loveliest of dames,
+ I tarried far from home.
+ In Rome I had some business, dear,
+ But quickly back have come.
+
+ "On seven hills great Rome is built,
+ The Tiber flows to the sea.
+ And while in Rome I saw the Pope;
+ He sent his love to thee.
+
+ "Through Florence led my journey home,
+ Through Milan, too, I passed;
+ And glad at heart, through Switzerland
+ I clambered back at last.
+
+ "But as I went across the Alps,
+ The snow began to fall;
+ Below, the blue lakes smiled on me;
+ I heard the eagles call.
+
+ "When I upon St. Gothard stood,
+ I heard the Germans snore;
+ For softly slumbered there below
+ Some thirty kings and more.
+
+ "To Frankfort I on _Schobbas_ came,
+ Where dumplings were my food.
+ They have the best religion there:
+ Goose-giblets, too, are good.
+
+ "In Weimar, the widowed muse's seat,
+ Midst general grief I arrive.
+ The people are crying 'Goethe's dead,
+ And Eckermann's still alive!'"[A]
+
+ [A] There are eight more verses to this poem, which I take
+ the liberty of omitting.
+ E. L.
+
+
+
+
+IN THE UNDERWORLD.
+
+
+I.
+
+ "O to be a bachelor!"
+ Pluto now forever sighs.
+ "In my marriage miseries,
+ I perceive, without a wife
+ Hell was not a hell before.
+
+ "O to be a bachelor!
+ Since my Proserpine is mine,
+ Daily for my grave I pine,
+ When she raileth I can hear
+ Barking Cerberus no more.
+
+ "My poor heart needs rest and ease,
+ In the realm of shades I cry,--
+ No lost soul is sad as I.
+ Sisyphus I envy now,
+ And the fair Danaides."
+
+
+II.
+
+ In the realm of shades, on a throne of gold,
+ By the side of her royal spouse, behold
+ Fair Proserpine,
+ With gloomy mien,
+ While deep sighs upheave her bosom.
+
+ "The roses, the passionate song I miss
+ Of the nightingale; yea, and the sun's warm kiss.
+ Midst the Lemur's dread,
+ And the ghostly dead,
+ Now withers my life's young blossom.
+
+ "I am fast in the yoke of marriage bound
+ To this cursed rat-hole underground.
+ Through my window at night,
+ Peers each ghostly sprite,
+ And the Styx murmurs lower and lower.
+
+ "To-day I have Charon invited to dinner,
+ He is bald, and his limbs they grow thinner and thinner,
+ And the judges, beside,
+ Of the dead, dismal-eyed,
+ In such company I shall grow sour."
+
+
+III.
+
+ Whilst their grievance each is venting
+ In the underworld below,
+ Ceres, on the earth lamenting,
+ Wrathful wanders to and fro.
+
+ With no hood in sloven fashion,
+ Neither mantle o'er her gown,
+ She declaims that lamentation
+ Unto all of us well-known;
+
+ "Is the blessed spring-tide here?
+ Has the earth again grown young?
+ Green the sunny hills appear,
+ And the icy band is sprung.
+
+ "Mirrored from the clear blue river.
+ Zeus, unclouded, laugheth out,
+ Softer zephyr's wings now quiver,
+ Buds upon the fresh twig sprout."
+
+ In the hedge a new refrain;
+ Call the Oreads from the shore,
+ "All thy flowers come again,
+ But thy daughter comes no more."
+
+ Ah, how many weary days
+ I have sought o'er wide earth's space.
+ Titan, all thy sunny rays
+ I have sent on her dear trace.
+
+ Yet not one renews assurance
+ Of the darling face I wot,
+ Day, that finds all things, the durance
+ Of my lost one, findeth not.
+
+ "Hast thou ravished, Zeus, my daughter?
+ Or, love-smitten by her charms,
+ Hath, o'er Orcus's night-black water,
+ Pluto snatched her in his arms?
+
+ "Who towards that gloomy strand
+ Herald of my grief will be?
+ Ever floats the bark from land,
+ Bearing phantoms ceaselessly.
+
+ "Closed those shadowy fields are ever
+ Unto any blessed sight.
+ Since the Styx hath been a river,
+ It hath borne no living wight.
+
+ "There are thousand stairs descending,
+ But not one leads upward there.
+ To her tears no token lending,
+ At the anxious mother's prayer."
+
+
+IV.
+
+ Oh, my mother-in-law, Ceres,
+ Cease thy cries, no longer mourn.
+ I will grant thee, what so dear is,
+ I myself so much have borne.
+
+ Take thou comfort. We will fairly
+ Thy child's ownership divide;
+ And for six moons shall she yearly
+ In the upper world abide.
+
+ Help thee through long summer hours
+ In thy husbandry affairs;
+ Binding up for thee the flowers,
+ While a new straw-hat she wears.
+
+ She will dream when twilight pleasant
+ Colors all the sky with rose;
+ When by brooks some clownish peasant
+ Sweetly on his sheep's pipe blows.
+
+ Not a harvest dance without her,
+ She will frisk with Jack and Bess;
+ Midst the geese and calves about her
+ She will prove a lioness.
+
+ Hail, sweet rest! I breathe free, single,
+ Here in Orcus far from strife,
+ Punch with Lethe I will mingle,
+ And forget I have a wife.
+
+
+V.
+
+ At times thy glance appeareth to importune,
+ As though thou didst some secret longing prove.
+ Alas, too well I know it,--thy misfortune
+ A life frustrated, a frustrated love.
+
+ How sad thine eyes are! Yet have I no power
+ To give thee back thy youth with pleasure rife;
+ Incurably thy heart must ache each hour
+ For love frustrated and frustrated life.
+
+
+
+
+THE VALE OF TEARS.
+
+
+ The night wind through the crannies pipes,
+ And in the garret lie
+ Two wretched creatures on the straw,
+ As gaunt as poverty.
+
+ And one poor creature speaks and says,
+ "Embrace me with thine arm,
+ And press thy mouth against my mouth,
+ Thy breath will keep me warm."
+
+ The other starveling speaks and says,
+ "When I look into thine eyes
+ Pain, cold and hunger disappear,
+ And all my miseries."
+
+ They kissed full oft, still more they wept,
+ Clasped hands, sighed deep and fast;
+ They often laughed, they even sang,
+ And both were still at last.
+
+ With morning came the coroner,
+ And brought a worthy leech,
+ On either corpse to certify
+ The cause of death of each.
+
+ The nipping weather, he affirmed,
+ Had finished the deceased.
+ Their empty stomachs also caused,
+ Or hastened death at last.
+
+ He added that when frost sets in
+ 'Tis needful that the blood
+ Be warmed with flannels; one should have,
+ Moreover, wholesome food.
+
+
+
+
+SOLOMON.
+
+
+ Dumb are the trumpets, cymbals, drums and shawms to-night,
+ The angel shapes engirdled with the sword,
+ About the royal tent keep watch and ward,
+ Six thousand to the left, six thousand to the right.
+
+ They guard the king from evil dreams, from death.
+ Behold! a frown across his brow they view.
+ Then all at once, like glimmering flames steel-blue,
+ Twelve thousand brandished swords leap from the sheath.
+
+ But back into their scabbards drop the swords
+ Of the angelic host; the midnight pain
+ Hath vanished, the king's brow is smooth again;
+ And hark! the royal sleeper's murmured words:
+
+ "O Shulamite, the lord of all these lands am I,
+ This empire is the heritage I bring,
+ For I am Judah's king and Israel's king;
+ But if thou love me not, I languish and I die."
+
+
+
+
+MORPHINE.
+
+
+ Marked is the likeness 'twixt the beautiful
+ And youthful brothers, albeit one appear
+ Far paler than the other, more serene;
+ Yea, I might almost say, far comelier
+ Than his dear brother, who so lovingly
+ Embraced me in his arms. How tender, soft
+ Seemed then his smile, and how divine his glance!
+ No wonder that the wreath of poppy-flowers
+ About his head brought comfort to my brow,
+ And with its mystic fragrance soothed all pain
+ From out my soul. But such delicious balm
+ A little while could last. I can be cured
+ Completely only when that other youth,
+ The grave, pale brother, drops at last his torch.
+ Lo, sleep is good, better is death--in sooth
+ The best of all were never to be born.
+
+
+
+
+SONG.
+
+
+ Oft in galleries of art
+ Thou hast seen a knight perchance,
+ Eager for the wars to start,
+ Well-equipped with shield and lance.
+
+ Him the frolic loves have found,
+ Robbed him of his sword and spear,
+ And with chains of flowers have bound
+ Their unwilling chevalier.
+
+ Held by such sweet hindrances,
+ Wreathed with bliss and pain, I stay,
+ While my comrades in the press
+ Wage the battle of the day.
+
+
+
+
+SONG.
+
+
+ Night lay upon my eyelids,
+ About my lips earth clave;
+ With stony heart and forehead
+ I lay within my grave.
+
+ How long I cannot reckon,
+ I slept in that strait bed;
+ I woke and heard distinctly
+ A knocking overhead.
+
+ "Wilt thou not rise, my Henry?
+ The eternal dawn is here;
+ The dead have re-arisen,
+ Immortal bliss is near."
+
+ "I cannot rise, my darling,
+ I am blinded to the day.
+ Mine eyes with tears, thou knowest,
+ Have wept themselves away."
+
+ "Oh, I will kiss them, Henry,
+ Kiss from thine eyes the night.
+ Thou shalt behold the angels
+ And the celestial light."
+
+ "I cannot rise, my darling,
+ My blood is still outpoured
+ Where thou didst wound my heart once
+ With sharp and cruel word."
+
+ "I'll lay my hand, dear Henry,
+ Upon thy heart again.
+ Then shall it cease from bleeding.
+ And stilled shall be its pain."
+
+ "I cannot rise, my darling,
+ My head is bleeding--see!
+ I shot myself, thou knowest,
+ When thou wast reft from me."
+
+ "Oh, with my hair, dear Henry,
+ I'll staunch the cruel wound,
+ And press the blood-stream backward;
+ Thou shalt be whole and sound."
+
+ So kind, so sweet she wooed me,
+ I could not say her nay;
+ I tried to rise and follow,
+ And clasp my loving may.
+
+ Then all my wounds burst open,
+ From head and breast outbreak
+ The gushing blood in torrents--
+ And lo, I am awake!
+
+
+
+
+SONG.
+
+
+ Death comes, and now must I make known
+ That which my pride eternally
+ Prayed to withhold; for thee, for thee,
+ My heart has throbbed for thee alone.
+
+ The coffin waits! within my grave
+ They drop me soon, where I shall rest.
+ But thou, Marie, shalt beat thy breast,
+ And think of me, and weep and rave.
+
+ And thou shalt wring thy hands, my friend.
+ Be comforted! it is our fate,
+ Our human fate, the good and great
+ And fair must have an evil end.
+
+
+
+
+HOMEWARD BOUND.
+
+1823-1824.
+
+
+
+
+ TO
+ FREDERIKA VARNHAGEN VON ENSE,
+
+ THE SONGS OF
+ HOMEWARD BOUND
+ ARE DEDICATED IN JOYFUL HOMAGE BY THE AUTHOR
+ HEINRICH HEINE.
+
+
+
+
+HOMEWARD BOUND.
+
+
+I.
+
+ In my life, too full of shadows,
+ Beamed a lovely vision bright.
+ Now the lovely vision's vanished,
+ I am girt about by night.
+
+ Little children in the darkness
+ Feel uneasy fears erelong,
+ And, to chase away their terrors,
+ They will sing aloud a song.
+
+ I, a foolish child, am singing
+ Likewise in the dark apart.
+ If my homely lay lack sweetness,
+ Yet it cheers my anxious heart.
+
+
+II.
+
+ I know not what spell is o'er me,
+ That I am so sad to day;
+ An old myth floats before me--
+ I cannot chase it away.
+
+ The cool air darkens, and listen,
+ How softly flows the Rhine!
+ The mountain peaks still glisten
+ Where the evening sunbeams shine.
+
+ The fairest maid sits dreaming
+ In radiant beauty there.
+ Her gold and her jewels are gleaming.
+ She combeth her golden hair.
+
+ With a golden comb she is combing;
+ A wondrous song sings she.
+ The music quaint in the gleaming,
+ Hath a powerful melody.
+
+ It thrills with a passionate yearning
+ The boatman below in the night.
+ He heeds not the rocky reef's warning,
+ He gazes alone on the height.
+
+ I think that the waters swallowed
+ The boat and the boatman anon.
+ And this, with her singing unhallowed,
+ The Lorelei hath done.
+
+
+III.
+
+ My heart, my heart is heavy,
+ Though merrily glows the May.
+ Out on the ancient bastion,
+ Under the lindens, I stay.
+
+ Below me the calm blue waters
+ Of the quiet town-moat shine;
+ A boy in his boat rows past me,
+ He whistles and drops his line.
+
+ And yonder the cheerful colors,
+ And tiny figures, one sees,
+ Of people, and villas, and gardens,
+ And cattle, and meadows, and trees.
+
+ Young women are bleaching linen;
+ They leap in the grass anear.
+ The mill-wheel rains showers of diamonds,
+ Its far away buzz I hear.
+
+ Above on the gray old tower
+ Stands the sentry house of the town,
+ And a scarlet-coated fellow
+ Goes pacing up and down.
+
+ He toys with his shining musket
+ That gleams in the sunset red,
+ Presenting and shouldering arms now--
+ I wish he would shoot me dead.
+
+
+IV.
+
+ In tears through the woods I wander.
+ The thrush is perched on the bough:
+ She springs and sings up yonder--
+ "Oh, why so sad art thou?"
+
+ The swallows, thy sisters, are able
+ My dear, to answer thee.
+ They built clever nests in the gable,
+ Where sweetheart's windows be.
+
+
+V.
+
+ The night is wet and stormy,
+ And void of stars the sky;
+ 'Neath the rustling trees of the forest
+ I wander silently.
+
+ There flickers a lonely candle
+ In the huntsman's lodge to-night.
+ It shall not tempt me thither;
+ It burns with a sullen light.
+
+ There sits the blind old granny,
+ In the leathern arm-chair tall,
+ Like a statue, stiff, uncanny
+ And speaketh not at all.
+
+ And to and fro strides, cursing,
+ The ranger's red haired son,
+ With angry, scornful laughter
+ Flings to the wall his gun.
+
+ The beautiful spinner weepeth,
+ And moistens with tears her thread.
+ At her feet her father's pointer,
+ Whimpering, crouches his head.
+
+
+VI.
+
+ When I met by chance in my travels
+ All my sweetheart's family,
+ Papa, mamma, little sister
+ Most cordially greeted me.
+
+ About my health they inquired;
+ Nor even did they fail
+ To say I was nowise altered,
+ Only a trifle pale.
+
+ I asked after aunts and cousins,
+ And many a dull old bore.
+ And after the dear little poodle,
+ That barked so softly of yore.
+
+ And how was my married sweetheart?
+ I asked them soon. They smiled,
+ And in friendliest tone made answer
+ She was soon to have a child.
+
+ And I lisped congratulations,
+ And begged, when they should see,
+ To give her the kindest greetings,
+ A thousand times for me.
+
+ Burst forth the baby-sister,
+ "That dear little dog of mine
+ Went mad when he grew bigger,
+ And we drowned him in the Rhine."
+
+ The child resembles my sweetheart,
+ The same old laugh has she;
+ Her eyes are the same ones over,
+ That wrought such grief for me.
+
+
+VII.
+
+ We sat in the fisher's cabin,
+ Looking out upon the sea.
+ Then came the mists of evening,
+ Ascending silently.
+
+ The lights began in the lighthouse
+ One after one to burn,
+ And on the far horizon
+ A ship we could still discern.
+
+ We spake of storm and shipwreck,
+ The sailor and how he thrives,
+ And how betwixt heaven and ocean,
+ And joy and sorrow he strives.
+
+ We spake of distant countries,
+ South, North, and everywhere,
+ And of the curious people,
+ And curious customs there;
+
+ The fragrance and light of the Ganges,
+ That giant-trees embower,
+ Where a beautiful tranquil people
+ Kneel to the lotus flower;
+
+ Of the unclean folk in Lapland,
+ Broad-mouthed and flat-headed and small,
+ Who cower upon the hearthstone,
+ Bake fish, and cackle and squall.
+
+ The maidens listened gravely,
+ Then never a word was said,
+ The ship we could see no longer;
+ It was far too dark o'erhead.
+
+
+VIII.
+
+ Thou fairest fisher maiden,
+ Row thy boat to the land.
+ Come here and sit beside me,
+ Whispering, hand in hand.
+
+ Lay thy head on my bosom,
+ And have no fear of me;
+ For carelessly thou trustest
+ Daily the savage sea.
+
+ My heart is like the ocean,
+ With storm and ebb and flow,
+ And many a pearl lies hidden
+ Within its depths below.
+
+
+IX.
+
+ The moon is up, and brightly
+ Beams o'er the waters vast.
+ I clasp my darling tightly;
+ Our hearts are beating fast.
+
+ In the dear child's bosom, nestling,
+ Alone I lie on the sand.
+ "Hear'st thou the wild winds rustling?
+ Why trembles thy foam-white hand?"
+
+ "That is no wild wind sighing,
+ That is the mermaid's lay;
+ And they are my sisters crying,
+ Whom the sea swallowed one day."
+
+
+X.
+
+ Up amidst the clouds, the moon,
+ Like a giant orange, beams,
+ O'er the gray sea shining down,
+ With broad stripes and golden gleams.
+
+ And I pace the shore alone,
+ Where the billows white are broken.
+ Many a tender word I hear,
+ Words within the water spoken.
+
+ Ah, the night is far too long,
+ And my heart throbs fast for pleasure.
+ Beautiful undines, come forth!
+ Sing and dance your magic measure.
+
+ Take my body and my soul:
+ On your lap my head shall rest.
+ Sing to death, caress to death;
+ Kiss the life from out my breast.
+
+
+XI.
+
+ All in gray clouds closely muffled,
+ Now the high gods sleep together,
+ And I listen to their snoring.
+ Here below 'tis stormy weather.
+
+ Stormy weather, raging tempest
+ Soon the helpless vessel shatters.
+ Who these furious winds can bridle?
+ Who can curb the lordless waters?
+
+ I can ne'er control the tempest,
+ Over deck and masthead sweeping;
+ I will wrap me in my mantle,
+ And will sleep as gods are sleeping.
+
+
+XII.
+
+ The night wind draws his trousers on,--
+ His foam-white hose once more;
+ He wildly whips the waves anon,
+ They howl, and rage, and roar.
+
+ From yon dark height, with frantic might,
+ The rain pours ceaselessly.
+ It seems as if the ancient night
+ Would drown the ancient sea.
+
+ Anigh the mast the sea-mew screams,
+ With hoarse shrieks, flying low.
+ Its every cry an omen seems,
+ A prophecy of woe.
+
+
+XIII.
+
+ The storm for a dance is piping,
+ With bellow and roar and hiss.
+ Hurrah! how the ship is tossing,
+ What a merry wild night is this!
+
+ A living mountain of water
+ The sea upheaves with might.
+ Here an abyss is yawning;
+ There towers a foaming height.
+
+ And sounds of retching and curses
+ Forth from the cabin come;
+ And I, to the mast close clinging,
+ Long to be safe at home.
+
+
+XIV.
+
+ The evening shades are falling,
+ The sea-fog spreads with night.
+ Mysterious waters are calling,
+ There rises something white.
+
+ The mermaid comes from the ocean,
+ Beside me sitting down;
+ Her white breast's breathing motion,
+ I see through the gossamer gown.
+
+ And she doth clasp and hold me,
+ In passionate, painful way.
+ Too close thou dost enfold me,
+ Thou lovely water fay!
+
+ "Within mine arms I hide thee,
+ With all my strength enfold,
+ I warm myself beside thee,
+ The night is far too cold."
+
+ Paler the moon is growing
+ Through shadowy vapors gray.
+ Thine eyes with tears are flowing,
+ Thou lovely water fay!
+
+ "With tears they are not flowing.
+ As I from waves did rise,
+ Forth from the ocean going,
+ A drop fell in mine eyes."
+
+ The sea-mews moan, entreating,
+ What does the mad surf say?
+ Thy heart is wildly beating,
+ Thou lovely water fay.
+
+ "My heart is beating sadly
+ And wild as ever it can,
+ Because I love thee madly,
+ Thou lovely son of man."
+
+
+XV.
+
+ When I before thy dwelling,
+ In early morning pace,
+ How gladly in the window
+ I see thy gentle face.
+
+ Thy brown-black eyes in pity,
+ Mine own eyes, wistful scan,
+ "Who art thou, and what lack'st thou,
+ Thou strange, unhappy man?"
+
+ I am a German poet,
+ Of goodly German fame,
+ When their best names are spoken,
+ Mine own they are sure to name.
+
+ And what I lack, sweet maiden,
+ Most Germans lack the same.
+ When men name sharpest sorrows,
+ Mine own they are sure to name.
+
+
+XVI.
+
+ The sea outspreading glorious,
+ In the dying sunbeams shone.
+ We sat by the lonely fisher's house,
+ We sat there mute and alone.
+
+ The waters swell, the mists arise,
+ The sea-mew flutters past,
+ And then from out thy loving eyes
+ The tears come flowing fast.
+
+ I see them falling on thy hand.
+ Upon my knees I sink,
+ And from the hollow of thy hand
+ The burning tears I drink.
+
+ Since then strange flames my flesh devour,
+ My spent soul disappears,
+ The wretched woman in that hour
+ Poisoned me with her tears.
+
+
+XVII.
+
+ Up yonder on the mountain,
+ There stands a castle tall;
+ There dwelt three beauteous maidens,
+ And I was loved by all.
+
+ On Saturday Hetty kissed me,
+ And Sunday was Julia's day;
+ On Monday Kunigunda
+ Nigh hugged my breath away.
+
+ On Tuesday, in the castle,
+ My maidens gave a ball.
+ The neighboring lords and ladies
+ Came riding one and all.
+
+ But I was not invited.
+ Amazed they all appeared;
+ The gossiping aunts and cousins
+ Remarked the fact, and sneered.
+
+
+XVIII.
+
+ Upon the far horizon
+ Like a picture of the mist,
+ Appears the towered city
+ By the twilight shadows kissed.
+
+ The moist, soft breezes ripple
+ Our boat's wake gray and dark,
+ With mournful measured cadence
+ The boatman rows my bark.
+
+ The sun from clouds outshining,
+ Lights up once more the coast.
+ The very spot it shows me
+ Where she I loved was lost.
+
+
+XIX.
+
+ All hail to thee, thou fairest
+ And most mysterious town!
+ That once inclosed my dearest
+ Within thy gateways brown.
+
+ Speak out, ye towers and portals!
+ My sweetheart, where is she?
+ I left her in your keeping;
+ Ye should my warders be.
+
+ The towers are not guilty,
+ For rooted fast were they.
+ When sweetheart, with trunks and luggage,
+ So quickly stole away.
+
+ The gates gave willing passage,
+ With noiseless bars and locks.
+ A door will always open,
+ When the adorer knocks.
+
+
+XX.
+
+ I tread the dear familiar path,
+ The old road I have taken;
+ I stand before my darling's house,
+ Now empty and forsaken.
+
+ Oh far too narrow is the street,
+ The roofs seem tottering downward.
+ The very pavement burns my feet;
+ I hurry faster onward.
+
+
+XXI.
+
+ Here to her vows I listened,
+ I tread the empty halls,
+ And where her tear-drops glistened,
+ The poisoned serpent crawls.
+
+
+XXII.
+
+ The quiet night broods over roof-tree and steeple;
+ Within this house dwelt my treasure rare.
+ 'Tis long since I left the town and its people,
+ But the house stands still on the self-same square.
+
+ Here stands, too, a man; toward heaven he gazes,
+ And he wrings his hands with a wild despair.
+ I shudder with awe when his face he raises,
+ For the moonlight shows me mine own self there.
+
+ Oh, pale sad creature! my ghost, my double,
+ Why dost thou ape my passion and tears,
+ That haunted me here with such cruel trouble,
+ So many a night in the olden years?
+
+
+XXIII.
+
+ How can'st thou slumber calmly,
+ Whilst I alive remain?
+ My olden wrath returneth,
+ And then I snap my chain.
+
+ Know'st thou the ancient ballad
+ Of that dead lover brave,
+ Who rose and dragged his lady
+ At midnight to his grave?
+
+ Believe me, I am living;
+ And I am stronger far,
+ Most pure, most radiant maiden,
+ Than all the dead men are.
+
+
+XXIV.
+
+ The maiden sleeps in her chamber,
+ Where the trembling moonbeams glance,
+ Without there singeth and ringeth
+ The melody of a dance.
+
+ "I will look just once from the window,
+ To see who breaks my rest."
+ A skeleton fiddles before her,
+ And sings like one possessed.
+
+ "To dance with me you promised,
+ And you have broken your vow.
+ To-night is a ball in the churchyard,
+ Come out and dance with me now."
+
+ The music bewitches the maiden;
+ Forth from her home doth she go;
+ She follows the bony fiddler,
+ Who sings as he scrapes his bow.
+
+ He fiddles, and hops and dances,
+ And rattles his bones as he plays;
+ His skull nods grimly and strangely,
+ In the clear moonlight's rays.
+
+
+XXV.
+
+ I gazed upon her portrait,
+ While dark dreams filled my brain,
+ And those beloved features
+ Began to breathe again.
+
+ I saw upon her lips then
+ A wondrous smile arise,
+ And as with tears of pity
+ Glistened once more her eyes.
+
+ Adown my cheeks in silence,
+ The tears came flowing free.
+ And oh! I cannot believe it,
+ That thou art lost to me!
+
+
+XXVI.
+
+ I, a most wretched Atlas, the huge world,
+ The whole huge world of sorrow I must carry.
+ Yea, the unbearable must bear, though meanwhile
+ My heart break in my bosom.
+
+ Thou haughty heart, thyself hast willed it thus,
+ Thou would'st be happy, infinitely happy,
+ Or infinitely wretched, haughty heart!
+ And lo! now art thou wretched.
+
+
+XXVII.
+
+ The years are coming and going,
+ Whole races are home to their rest;
+ But never ceases the passion
+ That burns within my breast.
+
+ Only once more I would see thee,
+ And make thee a low salaam,
+ And with my dying breath, murmur:
+ "I love you still, Madame!"
+
+
+XXVIII.
+
+ I dreamed that the moon looked sadly down,
+ And the stars with a troubled ray;
+ I went to my sweetheart's home--the town
+ Lies many a league away.
+
+ My longing led me before her door;
+ I kissed the stone steps brown,
+ That her feet had touched in the days of yore,
+ And the trailing hem of her gown.
+
+ The night was long, the night was cold,
+ Ice-cold did the stone steps seem.
+ In the window her own wan face, behold!
+ Illumed by the moon's pale beam.
+
+
+XXIX.
+
+ What means this lonely tear-drop
+ That blurs my troubled sight,
+ From olden times returning
+ Back to mine eyes to-night?
+
+ Its many glimmering sisters
+ Are vanished long ago,
+ In the night and the wind they vanished
+ With all my joy and my woe.
+
+ And like the mists of evening
+ Did those blue stars depart,
+ That smiled all joys and sorrows
+ Into my trusting heart.
+
+ Alas! my love, too, melted
+ Like idle breath one day;
+ Oh lingering, lonely tear-drop,
+ Thou also fade away!
+
+
+XXX.
+
+ The pale half-moon of autumn
+ Through clouds peers doubtfully.
+ Within the lonely churchyard
+ The parsonage I see.
+
+ The mother reads in her Bible,
+ The son at the light doth gaze;
+ One drowsy daughter is nodding,
+ While another speaks and says:
+
+ "Ah me! how dreary the days are!
+ How dull, and dark, and mean!
+ Only when there's a funeral
+ Is anything to be seen."
+
+ The mother looks from her Bible:
+ "Nay, only four in all
+ Have died since thy father was buried
+ Without by the churchyard wall."
+
+ Then yawns the eldest daughter,
+ "I will starve no longer here;
+ I will go to the Count to-morrow,
+ He is rich, and he loves me dear."
+
+ The son bursts out a-laughing:
+ "At the 'Star' three huntsmen drink deep;
+ They are making gold, and they promise
+ To give me their secret to keep."
+
+ Toward his lean face, flings the mother
+ Her Bible, in wrath and grief.
+ "Out! God-forsaken beggar,
+ Thou wilt be a common thief!"
+
+ They hear a tap on the window,
+ And behold a beckoning hand.
+ There in his sable vestments
+ They see the dead father stand.
+
+
+XXXI.
+
+ To-night is wretched weather,
+ It snows, and storms, and rains;
+ Out in the pitch-black darkness
+ I gaze through the window-panes.
+
+ There flickers a lonely candle,
+ Slow winding down the street;
+ And a beldame, with her lantern,
+ Goes hobbling on in the sleet.
+
+ I think 'tis for eggs and butter
+ That she braves this weather wild,
+ To bake a cake for her daughter,
+ Her grown-up ailing child.
+
+ Who lies at home in her arm-chair,
+ And sleepily blinks at the light.
+ Over her beautiful forehead
+ Her golden curls wave bright.
+
+
+XXXII.
+
+ They think my heart is breaking,
+ In sorrow's bitter yoke,
+ I too begin to think it,
+ As well as other folk.
+
+ Thou large-eyed little darling,
+ Do I not always say
+ I love thee past all telling--
+ Love gnaws my heart away?
+
+ But only in my chamber
+ I dare express my pain;
+ For always in thy presence
+ Quite silent I remain.
+
+ For there were evil angels
+ Who sealed my lips so close.
+ And oh! from evil angels
+ Sprang all my wretched woes.
+
+
+XXXIII.
+
+ Ah, those pure white lily fingers,
+ Once again could I but kiss them,
+ Press them close against my heart,
+ Melt away in silent weeping!
+
+ Oh, those clearest eyes of violet
+ Hover day and night before me,
+ And I ponder o'er the meaning
+ Of those lovely blue enigmas.
+
+
+XXXIV.
+
+ "Did she ne'er express compassion
+ For thy tender situation?
+ Could'st thou never in her glances
+ Read thy love's reciprocation?
+
+ "Could'st thou ne'er surprise the spirit
+ In her bright eyes unawares?
+ Yet thou surely art no donkey,
+ Dearest friend, in these affairs!"
+
+
+XXXV.
+
+ They loved one another, but neither
+ Confessed a word thereof.
+ They met with coldest glances,
+ Though pining away with love.
+
+ At last they parted; their spirits
+ Met but in visions rare.
+ They are long since dead and buried,
+ Though scarcely themselves aware.
+
+
+XXXVI.
+
+ And when I lamented my cruel lot,
+ You yawned in my face and you answered not.
+ But now that I set it in daintiest rhyme,
+ You flourish my trumpet all the time.
+
+
+XXXVII.
+
+ I called the devil and he came,
+ His face with wonder I must scan;
+ He is not ugly, he is not lame,
+ He is a delightful, charming man.
+ A man in the prime of life, in fact,
+ Courteous, engaging and full of tact.
+ A diplomat, too, of wide research
+ Who cleverly talks about state and church.
+ A little pale, but that is _en regle_,
+ For now he is studying Sanscrit and Hegel.
+ His favorite poet is still Fouque;
+ With the brawls of the critics he meddles no more,
+ For all such things he has given o'er,
+ Unto his grandmother Hecate.
+ He praised my forensic works that he saw,
+ He had dabbled a little himself in law.
+ He said he was proud my acquaintance to make,
+ And should prize my friendship, and bowed as he spake.
+ And asked if we had not met before
+ At the house of the Spanish Ambassador?
+ Then I noted his features line by line,
+ And found him an old acquaintance of mine.
+
+
+XXXVIII.
+
+ Mortal, sneer not at the devil;
+ Life's a short and narrow way,
+ And perdition everlasting
+ Is no error of the day.
+
+ Mortal, pay thy debts precisely,
+ Life's a long and weary way;
+ And to-morrow thou must borrow,
+ As thou borrow'dst yesterday.
+
+
+XXXIX.
+
+ Three holy kings from the land of the West
+ Go asking whoso passes,
+ "Where is the road to Bethlehem,
+ Ye gentle lads and lasses?"
+
+ But neither young nor old can tell.
+ The kings fare patient onward,
+ They follow a golden star o'erhead,
+ That bright and kind shines downward.
+
+ The star stands still o'er Joseph's house,
+ Thither the pilgrims bringing;
+ The oxen low, the Infant cries,
+ The three wise kings are singing.
+
+
+XL.
+
+ My child, we two were children,
+ As lively as ever you saw,
+ We crept into the hencoop,
+ And we hid there beneath the straw.
+
+ And there, like cocks, crowed loudly,
+ While folk went passing by.
+ "Kickery-koo!" they fancied,
+ 'Twas really the cock's own cry.
+
+ The chests that lay in the courtyard,
+ With paper we overlaid.
+ Therein we lived together;
+ An excellent house we made.
+
+ The old cat of our neighbor
+ Would visit us at whiles;
+ We gave her bows and curtsies,
+ And compliments and smiles.
+
+ After her health we inquired
+ Gravely whenever she came.
+ To many an ancient Tabby
+ Since then we have done the same.
+
+ We talked like grown folks sagely,
+ And sat there oft and long,
+ Complaining how all had altered,
+ Since the days when we were young.
+
+ How love and faith and friendship
+ Had vanished, the world was bare;
+ How dear were tea and coffee,
+ And money had grown so rare!
+
+ Those childish games are over,
+ All things roll on with youth,--
+ Money, the world, and the seasons,
+ And faith and love and truth.
+
+
+XLI.
+
+ My heart is heavy; from the present
+ It yearns towards those old days again,
+ When still the world seemed fair and pleasant,
+ And men lived happy, free from pain.
+
+ Now all things seem at six and sevens,
+ A scramble and a constant dread;
+ Dead is the Lord God in the heavens,
+ Below us is the devil dead.
+
+ And all folks sad and mournful moving,
+ Wear such a cross, cold, anxious face;
+ Were there not still a little loving,
+ There would not be a resting place.
+
+
+XLII.
+
+ As the moon with splendor pierces
+ Through the dark cloud-veil of night,
+ From my darksome Past emerges
+ Once again a dream of light.
+
+ All upon the deck were seated,
+ Proudly sailing down the Rhine.
+ Green with June the shores were glowing
+ In the evening's sunset-shine.
+
+ At the feet of a fair lady
+ Sat I, full of thoughts untold,
+ O'er her pale and lovely features
+ Played the sunlight's ruddy gold.
+
+ Lutes were ringing, boys were singing,
+ Wondrous joy on stream and shore.
+ Blue and bluer grew the heavens,
+ And the spirit seemed to soar.
+
+ Hill and city, wood and meadow,
+ Glided past in fairy-wise.
+ And I saw the whole scene mirrored
+ In the lovely lady's eyes.
+
+
+XLIII.
+
+ In a dream I saw my sweetheart,
+ A woman harassed with care;
+ Faded, and haggard, and withered,
+ The form that had bloomed so fair.
+
+ One child in her arms she carried,
+ And one by the hand she led.
+ And trouble and poverty plainly
+ In her eyes and her raiment I read.
+
+ Across the square she tottered,
+ And face to face we stood.
+ She looked at me, and I spoke then
+ In quiet but mournful mood.
+
+ "Come home with me to my dwelling,
+ Thou art pale and ill, I think,
+ And there, with unceasing labor,
+ I will furnish thee meat and drink.
+
+ "And I will serve thee, and cherish
+ Thy children so wan and mild.
+ And thyself more dearly than any,
+ Thou poor, unhappy child.
+
+ "Nor will I vex thee by telling
+ The love that burns in my breast;
+ And I will weep when thou diest
+ Over thy place of rest."
+
+
+XLIV.
+
+ "Dearest friend, what may it profit
+ To repeat the old refrain?
+ Wilt thou, brooding still above it,
+ Sitting on love's egg remain!
+
+ Ah, it needs incessant watching;
+ From the shell the chicks have risen.
+ Clucking, they reward thy hatching,
+ And this book shall be their prison."
+
+
+XLV.
+
+ Only bear with me in patience,
+ If the notes of former wrongs
+ Many a time distinctly echo
+ In the latest of my songs.
+
+ Wait! the slow reverberation
+ Of my grief will soon depart,
+ And a spring of new song blossom
+ In my healed, reviving heart.
+
+
+XLVI.
+
+ 'Tis time that, more sober and serious grown,
+ From folly at last I break free.
+ I, who so long in comedian's gown,
+ Have played in the play with thee.
+
+ The scenes gaily painted were bright to behold,
+ And in ultra-romantic tints shone.
+ My knightly, rich mantle was spangled with gold;
+ Noblest feelings were ever mine own.
+
+ But now with grave trouble my thoughts are beset,
+ Although from the stage I depart;
+ And my heart is as wretchedly miserable yet,
+ As though I still acted my part.
+
+ Ah God! all unwitting and wholly in jest,
+ What I felt and I suffered I told.
+ I have fought against Death who abode in my breast
+ Like the dying wrestler of old.
+
+
+XLVII.
+
+ The great king Wiswamitra
+ In dire distress is now.
+ He seeks with strife and penance
+ To win Waschischta's cow.
+
+ Oh, great King Wiswamitra,
+ Oh what an ox art thou!
+ So much to struggle and suffer,
+ And only for a cow.
+
+
+XLVIII.
+
+ Heart, my heart, oh, be not shaken!
+ Bravely bear thy fate. Once more
+ Shall the coming Spring restore
+ What the Winter rude hath taken.
+
+ How abundant is thy measure!
+ Still, O world, how fair thou art!
+ And thou yet may'st love, my heart,
+ Everything that gives thee pleasure.
+
+
+XLIX.
+
+ Thou seemest like a flower,
+ So pure and fair and bright;
+ A melancholy yearning
+ Steals o'er me at thy sight.
+
+ I fain would lay in blessing
+ My hands upon thy hair,
+ Imploring God to keep thee,
+ So bright, and pure, and fair.
+
+
+L.
+
+ Child, I must be very careful,
+ For thy soul would surely perish,
+ If the loved heart in thy bosom
+ Love for me should ever cherish.
+
+ But the task proves all too easy,
+ Strange regrets begin to move me.
+ Meanwhile many a time I whisper:
+ "If I could but make her love me!"
+
+
+LI.
+
+ When on my couch reclining,
+ Buried in pillows and night,
+ There hovers then before me
+ A form of grace and light.
+
+ As soon as quiet slumber
+ Has closed my weary eyes,
+ Then softly does the image
+ Within my dream arise.
+
+ But with my dream at morning,
+ It never melts away;
+ For in my heart I bear it
+ Through all the livelong day.
+
+
+LII.
+
+ Maiden with the lips of scarlet,
+ Clearest, sweetest eyes that be,
+ O my darling little maiden,
+ Ever do I think of thee!
+
+ Dreary is the winter evening:
+ Would that I were in thy home,
+ Sitting by thee, calmly chatting,
+ In the cosy little room.
+
+ And upon my lips, my darling,
+ I would press thy small white hand.
+ I would press and I would moisten
+ With my tears thy small, white hand.
+
+
+LIII.
+
+ Let the snow without be piled,
+ Let the howling storm rage wild,
+ Beating o'er the window-pane,--
+ I will never more complain,
+ For within my heart bide warm
+ Spring-tide joy and sweetheart's form.
+
+
+LIV.
+
+ Some to Mary bend the knee,
+ Others unto Paul and Peter,
+ I, however, I will worship,
+ Sun of beauty, only thee.
+
+ Kiss me, love me, dearest one,
+ Be thou gracious, show me favor,
+ Fairest sun among all maidens,
+ Fairest maiden under the sun.
+
+
+LV.
+
+ Did not my pallid cheek betray
+ My love's unhappy fate?
+ And wilt thou force my haughty lips
+ To beg and supplicate?
+
+ Oh far too haughty are these lips,
+ They can but kiss and jest.
+ They speak perchance a scornful word,
+ While my heart breaks in my breast.
+
+
+LVI.
+
+ Dearest friend, thou art in love,
+ Tortured with new woes thou art;
+ Darker grows it in thy brain,
+ Lighter grows it in thy heart.
+
+ Dearest friend, thou art in love,
+ Though thou hast not yet confessed.
+ I can see thy flaming heart
+ Burn already through thy vest.
+
+
+LVII.
+
+ I fain by thee would tarry,
+ To rest there and to woo;
+ But thou away must hurry,
+ Thou hadst too much to do.
+
+ I told thee that my spirit
+ Was wholly bound to thee,
+ And thou didst laugh to hear it,
+ And curtsy low to me.
+
+ Yea, thou did'st much misuse me,
+ In all my love's distress,
+ And even didst refuse me
+ At last the parting kiss.
+
+ I will not for thy glory
+ Go drown, when all is o'er;
+ My dear, this same old story
+ Befell me once before.
+
+
+LVIII.
+
+ Sapphires are those eyes of thine,
+ So lovely and so sweet,
+ Thrice blessed is the happy man
+ Whom they with love will greet.
+
+ Thy heart, it is a diamond,
+ That sheds a splendid light.
+ Thrice blessed is the happy man
+ For whom it glows so bright.
+
+ As red as rubies are thy lips,
+ Naught fairer can I prove.
+ Thrice blessed is the happy man
+ To whom they whisper love.
+
+ Oh, knew I but that happy man,
+ Could I at last discover,
+ Deep in the greenwood, all alone--
+ His bliss were quickly over.
+
+
+LIX.
+
+ Lovers' vows, wherefrom thou turnest,
+ Bound me closely to thy heart,
+ Now my jest grows sober earnest,
+ I am pierced by mine own dart.
+
+ Laughingly thou stand'st before me--
+ If thou leave me in my need,
+ All the powers of hell come o'er me,
+ I shall shoot myself indeed.
+
+
+LX.
+
+ Our life and the world have too fragment-like grown;
+ To the German Professor I'll hie me anon
+ Who sets in straight order all things overhurled.
+ He will draw up a sensible system, I think,
+ With his nightcap and nightgown he'll stop every chink
+ In this tumble-down edifice known as the world.
+
+
+LXI.
+
+ Long through my racked and weary brain
+ Did endless thoughts and dreams revolve;
+ But now thy lovely eyes, my dear,
+ Have brought me to a firm resolve.
+
+ Within their radiance wise and kind,
+ Where'er thine eyes shine, I remain.
+ I could not have believed it true
+ That I should ever love again.
+
+
+LXII.
+
+ To-night they give a party,
+ The house is all a-glow.
+ Above, in the lighted window,
+ Moves a shadow to and fro.
+
+ Thou see'st me not in the darkness,
+ I stand below, apart.
+ Still less, my dear, thou seeest
+ Within my gloomy heart.
+
+ My gloomy heart it loves thee;
+ It breaks for love of thee,
+ It breaks, and yearns, and bleedeth,
+ Only thou wilt not see.
+
+
+LXIII.
+
+ I fain would outpour all my sorrows
+ In a single word to-day.
+ To the merry winds I would trust it,
+ They would merrily bear it away.
+
+ They would bear it to thee, my darling,
+ The word of sorrowful grace.
+ Thou should'st hear it at every hour,
+ Thou shouldst hear it in every place.
+
+ And scarce in the midnight darkness
+ Shouldst thou close thine eyes in sleep,
+ Ere my whispered word, it would follow,
+ Though thy dream were ever so deep.
+
+
+LXIV.
+
+ Thou hast diamonds, and pearls and jewels,
+ All thy heart covets in store,
+ And the loveliest eyes under heaven--
+ My darling, what wouldst thou more?
+
+ Upon thine eyes, so lovely,
+ Have I written o'er and o'er
+ Immortal songs and sonnets--
+ My darling, what wouldst thou more?
+
+ And with thine eyes so lovely
+ Thou hast stung me to the core,
+ And hast compassed my undoing--
+ My darling, what wouldst thou more?
+
+
+LXV.
+
+ He who for the first time loves,
+ E'en rejected, is a god.
+ He who loves a second time,
+ Unrequited, is a fool.
+
+ Such a fool am I, in loving
+ Once again with no return.
+ Sun and moon and stars are laughing;
+ I am laughing too--and dying.
+
+
+LXVI.
+
+ They gave me advice, they counseled sense,
+ They overpowered with compliments.
+ Patience! they said, and in my need
+ They'd prove themselves my friends indeed.
+
+ Despite their promise to help and protect,
+ I surely had perished of sheer neglect,
+ Had there not come a worthy man,
+ Who bravely to help me now began.
+
+ Oh, the worthy man! he gave me to eat;
+ Such kindness as his I shall never forget.
+ I long to embrace him, but never can,
+ For I am myself this excellent man.
+
+
+LXVII.
+
+ This most amiable of fellows
+ Ne'er enough can honored be.
+ Ah! to oysters, Rhine-wine, cordial,
+ Many a time he treated me.
+
+ Natty are his hose and trousers,
+ Nattier his cravat is seen;
+ And he enters every morning,
+ Asks me how my health has been.
+
+ Of my rich renown he speaketh,
+ Of my charms and wit displayed.
+ Zealous, eager seems he ever
+ To befriend me and to aid.
+
+ And at parties in the evening,
+ With inspired brow and eye,
+ He declaims before the ladies
+ My immortal poesy.
+
+ How delightfully refreshing
+ Now-a-days to find still here
+ Such a youth, when good things surely
+ More and more do disappear.
+
+
+LXVIII.
+
+ I dreamt I was Almighty God,
+ And sat within the sky,
+ And angels sat on either side,
+ And praised my poetry.
+
+ And sweets and pasties there I ate,
+ And drank the best Tokay,
+ Worth many a precious florin bright,
+ Yet had no bill to pay.
+
+ No less was I nigh bored to death,
+ And longed for earth and evil,
+ And were I not Almighty God,
+ I fain had been the devil.
+
+ "Thou long-legged angel Gabriel,
+ Make haste; begone from here!
+ And hither bring my friend Eugene,
+ The friend I love so dear.
+
+ "Within the college seek him not,
+ But where good wine inspires.
+ And seek him not in Hedwig Church,
+ But seek him at Miss Myers'."
+
+ Then spreading broad his mighty wings,
+ The angel doth descend,
+ And hastens off, and brings me back
+ Dear Bendel, my good friend.
+
+ Lo, youth, I am Almighty God!
+ The earth is my estate.
+ Did I not always promise thee
+ I should be something great?
+
+ And I accomplish miracles
+ That shall thy homage win.
+ To-day to please thee I shall bless
+ The city of Berlin.
+
+ Behold, the pavements of each street
+ Now wider, broader, grown!
+ And to an oyster, fresh and clear,
+ Transformed is every stone.
+
+ A shower of sweet lemonade
+ Pours down like dew divine.
+ And through the very gutters flows
+ The mellowest Rhine wine.
+
+ Oh, how the Berlinese rejoice!
+ They lush o'er such good fare.
+ The councillors and aldermen
+ Will drain the gutters bare.
+
+ The poets are in ecstasies
+ At such a feast divine.
+ The captains and the corporals
+ Lick up the streaming wine.
+
+ The captains and the corporals,
+ What clever men are they!
+ They think--such miracles as these
+ Occur not every day.
+
+
+LXIX.
+
+ I left you in the midmost of July,
+ To-day, my friends in winter I behold.
+ Then in the heat ye basked so warm and bright,
+ But now ye have grown cool, yea, even cold.
+
+ Soon I depart again, and come once more,
+ Then shall I find you neither warm nor cold.
+ And I shall moan lamenting o'er your graves,
+ And mine own heart shall then be poor and old.
+
+
+LXX.
+
+ Oh, to be chased from lovely lips! and torn
+ From lovely arms that clasped as in a dream.
+ I fain had stayed with thee another morn.
+ Then came the postboy with his tinkling team.
+
+ E'en such is life, my child, a constant moan--
+ A constant parting, evermore good-byes,
+ Could not thy heart cling fast unto mine own?
+ Couldst thou not hold me steadfast with thine eyes?
+
+
+LXXI.
+
+ All night, in the shadowy post-chaise,
+ We drove through the winter weather.
+ We slept on each other's bosoms,
+ We jested and laughed together.
+
+ But how were we both astonished,
+ When morning bade us stir,
+ Betwixt us two sat Cupid,
+ The blindfold passenger.
+
+
+LXXII.
+
+ Lord knows where the reckless creature
+ Chose her transient stopping-place!
+ Swearing through the rainy weather,
+ Everywhere I seek her trace.
+
+ I have been to every tavern
+ Running up and running down,
+ And of every surly waiter
+ Made inquiries in the town.
+
+ Lo, I see her in yon window!
+ And she beckons--all is well!
+ Could I guess that you had chosen,
+ Lady, such a grand hotel?
+
+
+LXXIII.
+
+ Like shadows black the houses
+ Uprise in long array.
+ Enveloped in my mantle
+ I hurry on my way.
+
+ The old cathedral-belfry
+ Chimes midnight grave and slow.
+ With all her charms and kisses
+ My love awaits me now.
+
+ The moon is my companion,
+ Kind-beaming from the sky
+ I reach the house beloved,
+ And joyously I cry--
+
+ "I thank thee, trusty servant,
+ That thou hast cheered my way.
+ And now, dear moon, I leave thee.
+ On others shed thy ray.
+
+ "And if a lonely lover
+ Who sings of grief, thou see,
+ Oh give him such sweet solace
+ As thou hast given me."
+
+
+LXXIV.
+
+ Wert thou, in sooth, mine honored wife,
+ Then shouldst thou envied be;
+ A merry pastime were thy life--
+ All pleasure, mirth, and glee.
+
+ And should'st thou scold, and rail and curse,
+ I'd meekly bear my fate;
+ But if thou do not praise my verse,
+ Then shall we separate.
+
+
+LXXV.
+
+ Upon thy snow-white shoulders
+ I lean my head at rest;
+ And secretly I hearken
+ To the yearning of thy breast.
+
+ In thy heart hussars blue-coated
+ Are riding and blowing their horn;
+ And my darling will surely desert me
+ With the earliest streak of morn.
+
+ And if thou desert me to-morrow,
+ None the less art thou mine to-day.
+ And within thine arms so lovely,
+ Still doubly blest I stay.
+
+
+LXXVI.
+
+ Hussars are blowing their trumpets,
+ And to thy doors they ride.
+ A garland of wreathed roses
+ I bring to thee, my bride.
+
+ That were a boisterous household,
+ Landpests and soldiery!
+ And in thy little heart, dear,
+ The goodliest quarters be.
+
+
+LXXVII.
+
+ I, too, in my youth did languish,
+ Suffered many a bitter anguish,
+ Burning in love's spell.
+ Now the price of fuel's higher,
+ And extinguished is the fire,
+ _Ma foi!_ and that is well.
+
+ Think of this, my youthful beauty,
+ Dry the stupid tears of duty,
+ Quell love's stupid, vague alarms.
+ Since thy life is not yet over,
+ Oh forget thy former lover,
+ _Ma foi!_ within mine arms.
+
+
+LXXVIII.
+
+ Dost thou hate me then so fiercely,
+ Hast thou really changed so blindly?
+ To the world I shall proclaim it,
+ Thou could'st treat me so unkindly.
+
+ Say, ungrateful lips, how can you
+ Breathe an evil word of scorning,
+ Of the very man who kissed you
+ So sincerely, yestermorning?
+
+
+LXXIX.
+
+ Yes, they are the self-same eyes
+ That still brighten as I greet her,
+ Yes, they are the self-same lips
+ That made all my life seem sweeter.
+
+ Yes, it is the very voice,
+ At whose slightest tones I faltered
+ But no more the same am I;
+ I wend homeward strangely altered.
+
+ By the fair white arms embraced
+ With a close and tender passion,
+ Now I lie upon her heart,
+ Dull of brain, in cold vexation.
+
+
+LXXX.
+
+ Ye could not understand mine ire
+ Nor I the tales that ye did tell,
+ But when we met within the mire,
+ We knew each other very well.
+
+
+LXXXI.
+
+ But the eunuchs still complained,
+ When I raised my voice to sing--
+ They complained and they maintained
+ That it had too harsh a ring.
+
+ And they raised with one accord
+ All their dainty voices clear,
+ Little crystal trills outpoured--
+ Oh, how pure and fine to hear!
+
+ And they sang of love so sweet,
+ Love's desire and love's full measure,
+ That the rare artistic treat
+ Made the ladies weep for pleasure.
+
+
+LXXXII.
+
+ On the walls of Salamanca
+ Gently sigh the breezes yonder.
+ Often with my gracious Donna,
+ There on summer eves I wander.
+
+ Round my beauty's slender girdle,
+ Tenderly mine arm enwreathing,
+ I can feel with blessed finger
+ Her proud bosom's haughty breathing.
+
+ But I hear an anxious whisper
+ Through the linden-branches coming,
+ And below, the somber mill-stream
+ Murmurs dreams of evil omen.
+
+ Ah, Senora, I foresee it!
+ I shall be expelled forever,
+ On the walls of Salamanca,
+ We again shall wander never!
+
+
+LXXXIII.
+
+ Next to me lives Don Henriquez,
+ He whom folk "the beauty" call;
+ Neighborly our rooms are parted
+ Only by a single wall.
+
+ Salamanca's ladies flutter
+ When he strides along the street,
+ Clinking spurs, mustachoes twirling,
+ And with hounds about his feet.
+
+ But in quiet hours of evening
+ He will sit at home apart,
+ His guitar between his fingers,
+ And sweet dreams within his heart.
+
+ Then he smites the chords with passion,
+ All at once begins to strum.
+ Ah, like squalling cats his scrapings,
+ Toll-de-roll and toodle-dum!
+
+
+LXXXIV.
+
+ We scarcely had met ere thy voice and thine eye
+ Assured me, my darling, that thou wast mine own;
+ And had not thy mother stood cruelly nigh,
+ I think I should really have kissed thee anon.
+
+ To-morrow again I depart from the town,
+ And hasten forth on my weary track,
+ From the window my yellow-haired lass peeps down,
+ And the friendliest greetings I waft her back.
+
+
+LXXXV.
+
+ Lo, on the mountains the sunbeams' first kiss!
+ The bells of the herd ring afar on the plain,
+ My darling, my lambkin, my sun and my bliss,
+ Oh, fain would I see thee and greet thee again!
+
+ I gaze on thy windows with curious eyes.
+ Farewell, dearest child, I must vanish for thee,
+ In vain! for the curtain moves not--there she lies,
+ There slumbers she still--and dreams about me?
+
+
+LXXXVI.
+
+ In Halle, near the market,
+ There stand two mighty lions.
+ Ah, lion-strength of Halle town,
+ How art thou tamed and broken!
+
+ In Halle, near the market,
+ There stands a mighty giant,
+ He holds a sword and he never moves,
+ He is petrified with terror.
+
+ In Halle, near the market,
+ A stately church is standing,
+ Where the _Burschenschaft_ and the _Landsmannschaft_
+ Have plenty of room to worship.
+
+
+LXXXVII.
+
+ Dusky summer-eve declineth
+ Over wood and verdant meadow,
+ Golden moon in azure heavens,
+ Wafting fragrance, softly shineth.
+
+ By the brook-side chirps the cricket,
+ Something stirs within the water,
+ And the wanderer hears a rustling,
+ Hears a breathing past the thicket.
+
+ In the streamlet, white and slender,
+ All alone the nymph is bathing,
+ Beautiful her arms and shoulders
+ Shimmer in the moonbeams' splendor.
+
+
+LXXXVIII.
+
+ Night enfolds these foreign meadows,
+ Sick heart, weary limbs caressing.
+ Ah, thy light athwart the shadows,
+ Moon, is like a quiet blessing!
+
+ Gentle moon, thy mild beams banish
+ Gloomy terrors where they hover.
+ All my woes dissolve and vanish,
+ And mine eyes with dew brim over.
+
+
+LXXXIX.
+
+ Death is like the balmy night,
+ Life is like the sultry day;
+ It is dark, and I am sleepy.
+ I am weary of the light.
+
+ O'er my couch a tree doth spring
+ In its boughs a nightingale
+ Sings of love, of naught but love,
+ In my dream I hear him sing.
+
+
+XC.
+
+ "Tell me where's your lovely maiden,
+ Whom you sang of erst so well,
+ As a flame that through your bosom
+ Pierced with rare, enchanted spell."
+
+ Ah, that flame is long extinguished!
+ And my heart is cold above.
+ And this little book the urn is
+ For the ashes of my love.
+
+
+
+
+SONGS TO SERAPHINE.
+
+
+
+
+SONGS TO SERAPHINE.
+
+
+I.
+
+ In the dreamy wood I wander,
+ In the wood at even-tide;
+ And thy slender, graceful figure
+ Wanders ever by my side.
+
+ Is not this thy white veil floating?
+ Is not that thy gentle face?
+ Is it but the moonlight breaking
+ Through the dark fir-branches' space?
+
+ Can these tears so softly flowing
+ Be my very own I hear?
+ Or indeed, art thou beside me,
+ Weeping, darling, close anear?
+
+
+II.
+
+ Over all the quiet sea-shore
+ Shadowing falls the hour of Hesper;
+ Through the clouds the moon is breaking,
+ And I hear the billows whisper.
+
+ "Can that man who wanders yonder
+ Be a lover or a dunce?
+ For he seems so sad and merry,
+ Sad and merry both at once."
+
+ But the laughing moon looks downward,
+ And she speaks, for she doth know it:
+ "Yes, he is both fool and lover,
+ And, to cap it all, a poet!"
+
+
+III.
+
+ Behold! 'tis a foam-white sea-mew
+ That flutters there on high.
+ Far over the black night-waters
+ The moon hangs up in the sky.
+
+ The shark and the roach dart forward
+ For breath as the breeze floats by.
+ The sea-mew poises and plunges,
+ The moon hangs up in the sky.
+
+ Oh, lovely transient spirit,
+ How heavy of heart am I!
+ Too near to thee is the water,
+ The moon hangs up in the sky.
+
+
+IV.
+
+ In moonlit splendor rests the sea,
+ The soft waves ripple along.
+ My heart beats low and heavily,
+ I think of the ancient song.
+
+ The ancient song that quaintly sings
+ Towns lost in olden times;
+ And how from the sea's abyss there rings
+ The sound of prayers and chimes.
+
+ But pious prayers and chimes, I ween,
+ Are offered all in vain.
+ For that which once hath buried been
+ May never come back again.
+
+
+V.
+
+ I knew that thou must love me--
+ 'Twas long ago made clear.
+ But thy confession filled me
+ With deep and secret fear.
+
+ I clambered up the mountain,
+ And sang aloud for glee.
+ Then while the sun was setting,
+ I wept beside the sea.
+
+ My heart is like the sun, dear,
+ Yon kindled flame above;
+ And sinks in large-orbed beauty
+ Within a sea of love.
+
+
+VI.
+
+ How enviously the sea-mew
+ Looks after us, my dear;
+ Because upon thy lips then
+ So close I pressed mine ear.
+
+ He fain would know what issued,
+ Most curious of birds!
+ If thou mine ear fulfillest
+ With kisses or with words.
+
+ What through my spirit hisses?
+ I, too, am sore perplexed!
+ Thy words, dear, and thy kisses
+ Are strangely intermixed.
+
+
+VII.
+
+ Shy as a fawn she passed me by;
+ And, fleet as any heifer,
+ She clambered on from cliff to cliff,
+ Her hair flew with the zephyr.
+
+ Where to the sea's edge slope the rocks,
+ I reached her, trembling near it.
+ Then, softly with the softest words,
+ I melted her proud spirit.
+
+ There we two sat as high as heaven,
+ And heaven's own rapture drinking.
+ While in the dark waves far below;
+ The gradual sun was sinking.
+
+ Below us in the deep, dark sea,
+ The fair sun dropped; then dashing,
+ The waves broke wildly over him,
+ With turbulence of passion.
+
+ Oh do not weep! he is not dead,
+ 'Neath billows swelling higher;
+ He has but hidden in my heart,
+ With all his burning fire.
+
+
+VIII.
+
+ Come, let us build upon this rock,
+ The Church of God's last lover,
+ The third New Testament's revealed,
+ The agony is over.
+
+ Refuted is the second book
+ That fooled us through long ages.
+ The stupid torture of the flesh
+ Is not for modern sages.
+
+ Hear'st thou the Lord in the dark sea,
+ With thousand voices speaking?
+ See'st thou o'erhead the thousand lights
+ Of God's own glory breaking?
+
+ The holy God dwells in the light,
+ As in the dark abysses.
+ For God is everything that is:
+ His breath is in our kisses.
+
+
+IX.
+
+ Gray night broods above the ocean,
+ Little stars gleam sparkling o'er us.
+ And the waters' many voices
+ Chant in deep, protracted chorus.
+
+ Hark! the old northwind is playing
+ On the polished waves of ocean,
+ That, like tubes of some great organ,
+ Thrill and stir with sounding motion.
+
+ Partly pagan, partly sacred,
+ Rise these melodies upswelling
+ Passionately to the heavens,
+ Where the joyous stars are dwelling.
+
+ And the stars wax large and larger,
+ In bright mazes they are driven,
+ Large as suns at last revolving,
+ Through the spaces of vast heaven.
+
+ And weird harmonies they warble
+ With the billows' music blending.
+ Solar nightingales, they circle
+ Through the spheres strange concord sending.
+
+ And with mighty roar and trembling,
+ Sky and ocean both are ringing;
+ And a giant's stormy rapture
+ Feel I in my bosom springing.
+
+
+X.
+
+ Shadow-love and shadow-kisses,
+ Life of shadows, wondrous strange!
+ Shall all hours be sweet as this is,
+ Silly darling, safe from change?
+
+ All things that we clasp and cherish,
+ Pass like dreams we may not keep.
+ Human hearts forget and perish,
+ Human eyes must fall asleep.
+
+
+XI.
+
+ She stood beside the ocean,
+ And sighed as one oppressed,
+ With such a deep emotion
+ The sunset thrilled her breast.
+
+ Dear maiden, look more gayly,
+ This trick is old, thou'lt find.
+ Before us sinks he daily,
+ To rise again behind.
+
+
+XII.
+
+ My ship sails forth with sable sails,
+ Far over the savage sea;
+ Thou know'st how heavy is my woe,
+ Yet still thou woundest me.
+
+ Thy heart is fickle as the wind,
+ And flits incessantly.
+ My ship sails forth with sable sails,
+ Far over the savage sea.
+
+
+XIII.
+
+ I told nor man, nor woman
+ How ill you dealt with me;
+ I came abroad and published it
+ To the fishes in the sea.
+
+ Only upon terra firma
+ I have left you your good name;
+ But over all the ocean
+ Every creature knows your shame.
+
+
+XIV.
+
+ The roaring waves press onward
+ To reach the strand.
+ Then swell, and, crashing downward,
+ Break on the sand.
+
+ They roll with surging power,
+ Nor rest, nor fail--
+ And then ebb slow and slower--
+ Of what avail?
+
+
+XV.
+
+ The Runenstein juts in the sea,
+ I sit here with my dreams,
+ The billows wander foamingly;
+ Winds pipe, the sea-mew screams.
+
+ Oh I have loved full many a lass,
+ And many a worthy fellow,
+ Where have they gone? The shrill winds pass,
+ And wandering foams the billow.
+
+
+XVI.
+
+ The waves gleam in the sunshine,
+ They seem of gold to be.
+ When I am dead, my brothers,
+ Oh drop me in the sea.
+
+ For dearly have I loved it.
+ Like cooling balm descends
+ Upon my heart its current:
+ We were the best of friends.
+
+
+
+
+TO ANGELIQUE.
+
+
+I.
+
+ Now that heaven smiles in favor,
+ Like a mute shall I still languish,--
+ I, who when unhappy, ever
+ Sang so much about mine anguish?
+
+ Till a thousand striplings haunted
+ By despair, my notes re-fluted,
+ And unto the woe I chanted,
+ Greater evils still imputed.
+
+ Oh ye nightingales' sweet choir,
+ That my bosom holds in capture,
+ Lift your joyous voices higher,
+ Let the whole world hear your rapture!
+
+
+II.
+
+ Though thou wert fain to pass me quickly,
+ Yet backward didst thou look by chance;
+ Thy wistful lips were frankly parted,
+ Impetuous scorn was in thy glance.
+
+ Would that I ne'er had sought to hold thee,
+ To touch thy fleeing gown's white train!
+ The dear mark of thy tiny footprints
+ Would that I ne'er had found again!
+
+ For now thy rare wild charm has vanished,
+ Like others thou art tame to see,
+ Intolerably kind and gentle--
+ Alas! thou art in love with me.
+
+
+III.
+
+ Ne'er can I believe, young beauty,
+ Thy disdainful lips alone:
+ For such big black eyes as thine are
+ Virtue never yet did own.
+
+ And those brown-streaked lies down-glancing
+ Say "I love thee!" clearly scanned,
+ Let thy little white heart kiss me--
+ White heart, dost thou understand?
+
+
+IV.
+
+ From the slightest of emotions,
+ What a sudden transformation,
+ To the most unbounded passion,
+ And the tenderest relation!
+
+ Every day it waxes deeper,
+ My affection for my lady.
+ I am almost half-persuaded
+ That I am in love already.
+
+ Beautiful her soul: though truly
+ That's a question of opinion.
+ I am surer of the beauty
+ Of the bodily dominion.
+
+ Oh that waist! And oh that forehead!
+ Oh that nose! The sweet enclosure
+ Of the lovely lips in smiling!
+ And the bearing's proud composure!
+
+
+V.
+
+ Ah, how fair thou art when frankly
+ Thou reveal'st thy soul's dimensions,
+ And thy speech is overflowing
+ With the noblest of intentions.
+
+ When thou tell'st me how thy feelings
+ Always have been truest, highest,
+ To the pride within thy bosom
+ Thou no sacrifice denyest.
+
+ Not for millions, thou averrest,
+ Man could thy pure honor buy,
+ Ere thou sell thyself for money
+ Ah, thou wouldst far liefer die.
+
+ I before thee stand and listen;
+ To the end I listen stoutly,
+ Like a type of faith in silence,
+ And I fold my hands devoutly.
+
+
+VI.
+
+ I closed my sweetheart's either eye,
+ And on her mouth I kissed,
+ Now asking me the reason why
+ She never gives me rest.
+
+ From set of sun till morning rise,
+ Each hour does she persist,
+ 'Oh wherefore did you close mine eyes,
+ When on my mouth you kissed?"
+
+ I never yet have told her why,
+ Myself I scarcely wist.
+ I closed my sweetheart's either eye,
+ And on her mouth I kissed.
+
+
+VII.
+
+ When I, enraptured by precious kisses,
+ Rest in thine arms for briefest season,
+ Of Germany thou must not ask me,
+ I cannot bear it--there is a reason!
+
+ Leave Germany in peace, I do beseech thee,
+ Vex not with endless questions my poor spirit
+ Concerning home, friends, social, kind relations,
+ There is a reason why I cannot bear it.
+
+ The oak-tree there is green, the German women
+ Have soft blue eyes--tender they are and fair.
+ They whisper sighs of hope and truth and passion.
+ I have good cause--'tis more than I can bear.
+
+
+VIII.
+
+ Whilst I, after other people's,
+ Others people's darlings gaze,
+ And before strange sweethearts' dwellings
+ Sighing pace through weary days.--
+
+ Then perhaps those other people
+ In another quarter pine,
+ Pacing by my very windows,
+ Coveting that girl of mine.
+
+ That were human! God in heaven,
+ Watch us still whate'er befall!
+ God in heaven, joy and blessing,
+ Joy and blessing send us all!
+
+
+IX.
+
+ Dismiss me not, e'en if my thirst
+ Quenched with that sweet draught be!
+ Bear with me for a season yet,
+ That shall suffice for me.
+
+ Canst thou no longer be my love,
+ Then be to me a friend;
+ For friendship only just begins
+ When love is at an end.
+
+
+X.
+
+ This mad carnival of loving,
+ This our heart's intoxication
+ Ends at last, and we twain, sobered,
+ Yawningly look each on each.
+
+ All the luscious cup is drained
+ That was filled with sensuous juices,
+ Foaming to the brim, enticing,
+ All the luscious cup is drained.
+
+ And the violins are silent,
+ That so sweetly played for dancing,
+ For the giddy dance of passion--
+ Yes, the violins are silent.
+
+ And the lanterns are extinguished,
+ That with gorgeous light illumined
+ All the motley troop of maskers--
+ Yes, the lanterns are extinguished.
+
+ And to-morrow comes Ash-Wednesday,
+ I will draw upon thy forehead
+ Then an ashen cross, and murmur,
+ Woman, thou art dust--remember!
+
+
+
+
+SPRING FESTIVAL.
+
+
+ This is the spring-tide's mournful feast,
+ The frantic troops of blooming girls
+ Are rushing hither with flying curls,
+ Moaning they smite their bare white breast,
+ Adonis! Adonis!
+
+ The night has come. By the torches' gleams
+ They search the forest on every side,
+ That echoes with anguish far and wide,
+ With tears, mad laughter, and sobs and screams,
+ Adonis! Adonis!
+
+ The mortal youth so strangely fair,
+ Lies on the cold turf pale and dead;
+ His heart's blood staineth the flowers red,
+ And a wild lament fulfills the air,
+ Adonis! Adonis!
+
+
+
+
+CHILDE HAROLD.
+
+
+ Lo, a large black-shrouded barge
+ Sadly moves with sails outspread,
+ And mute creatures' muffled features
+ Hold grim watch above the dead.
+
+ Calm below it lies the poet
+ With his fair face bare and white,
+ Still with yearning ever turning
+ Azure eyes towards heaven's light.
+
+ As he saileth sadly waileth
+ Some bereaven undine-bride.
+ O'er the springing waves outringing,
+ Hark! a dirge floats far and wide.
+
+
+
+
+THE ASRA.
+
+
+ Daily the fair Sultan's daughter
+ Wanders to and fro at twilight
+ By the margin of the fountain,
+ Where the waters white are rippling.
+
+ Daily the young slave at twilight
+ Stands beside the fountain's margin,
+ Where the waters white are rippling,
+ Daily grows he pale and paler.
+
+ There one evening moved the princess
+ Toward the slave with words swift-spoken
+ "Tell me, tell me what thy name is,
+ Where thy home is, what thy lineage?"
+
+ Spake the youthful slave: "My name is
+ Mahomet, I come from Yemen;
+ And by birth I am an Asra,
+ One who dieth when he loves."
+
+
+
+
+HELENA.
+
+
+ Thou hast invoked me from my grave,
+ And through thy magic spell
+ Hast quickened me with fierce desire,
+ This flame thou canst not quell.
+
+ Oh press thy lips against my lips,
+ Divine is mortal breath;
+ I drink thy very soul from thee.
+ Insatiable is death.
+
+
+
+
+SONG.
+
+
+ There stands a lonely pine-tree
+ In the north, on a barren height;
+ He sleeps while the ice and snow flakes
+ Swathe him in folds of white.
+
+ He dreameth of a palm-tree
+ Far in the sunrise-land,
+ Lonely and silent longing
+ On her burning bank of sand.
+
+
+
+
+THE NORTH SEA.
+
+1825-26.
+
+
+
+
+ TO
+ FREDERICK MERCKEL,
+
+ THE PICTURES OF
+ THE NORTH SEA
+ ARE AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR.
+
+
+
+
+THE NORTH SEA.
+
+FIRST CYCLUS.
+
+ "To be disinterested in everything, but above all in love and
+ friendship, was my supreme wish, my maxim, my practice; hence
+ my daring expression at a later period: 'If I love thee, what
+ is that to thee?' sprang directly from my heart."
+ Goethe's "Truth and Poetry," Book XIV.
+
+
+I. CORONATION.
+
+ Oh songs of mine! beloved songs of mine,
+ Up, up! and don your armor,
+ And let the trumpets blare,
+ And lift upon your shield
+ This youthful maiden
+ Who now shall reign supreme
+ Over my heart, as queen!
+ Hail! hail! thou youthful queen!
+
+ From the sun above
+ I snatch the beaming red gold,
+ And weave therewith a diadem
+ For thy consecrated head.
+ From the fluttering azure-silken canopy of heaven,
+ Where blaze the diamonds of night,
+ A precious fragment I cut:
+ And as a coronation mantle,
+ I hang it upon thy royal shoulders.
+ I bestow on thee a court
+ Of richly-attired sonnets,
+ Haughty _Terzine_ and stately stanzas.
+ My wit shall serve thee as courier,
+ My fancy shall be thy fool,
+ Thy herald, whose crest is a smiling tear,
+ Shall be my humor.
+
+ But I myself, oh Queen,
+ Low do I kneel before thee,
+ On the cushion of crimson samite,
+ And as homage I dedicate to thee.
+ The tiny morsel of reason,
+ That has been compassionately spared me
+ By thy predecessor in the realm.
+
+
+II. TWILIGHT.
+
+ On the wan shore of the sea
+ Lonely I sat with troubled thoughts.
+ The sun dropped lower, and cast
+ Glowing red streaks on the water.
+ And the white wide waves,
+ Crowding in with the tide,
+ Foamed and rustled, nearer and nearer,
+ With a strange rustling, a whispering, a hissing,
+ A laughter, a murmur, a sighing, a seething,
+ And amidst all these a mysterious lullaby.
+ I seemed to hear long-past traditions,
+ Lovely old-time fairy-tales,
+ Which as a boy I had heard,
+ From the neighbor's children,
+ When on summer evenings we had nestled
+ On the stone steps of the porch.
+ With little eager hearts,
+ And wistful cunning eyes,
+ Whilst the grown maidens
+ Sat opposite at their windows
+ Near their sweet-smelling flower pots,
+ With their rosy faces,
+ Smiling and beaming in the moonlight.
+
+
+III. SUNSET.
+
+ The glowing red sun descends
+ Into the wide, tremulous
+ Silver-gray ocean.
+ Ethereal, rosy tinted forms
+ Are wreathed behind him, and opposite,
+ Through the veil of autumnal, twilight clouds,
+ Like a sad, deathly-pale countenance,
+ Breaks the moon,
+ And after her, like sparks of light,
+ In the misty distance, shimmer the stars.
+
+ Once there shone forth in heaven,
+ Nuptially united.
+ Luna the goddess, and Sol the god.
+ And around them gathered the stars,
+ Those innocent little children.
+
+ But evil tongues whispered dissension,
+ And in bitterness parted
+ The lofty, illustrious pair.
+
+ Now all day in lonely splendor
+ The sun-god fares overhead,
+ Worshiped and magnified in song,
+ For the excellence of his glory,
+ By haughty prosperity--hardened men.
+ But at night
+ In heaven wandereth Luna,
+ The poor mother,
+ With her orphaned, starry children;
+ And she shines with a quiet sadness,
+ And loving maidens and gentle poets
+ Dedicate to her their tears and their songs.
+
+ Poor weak Luna! Womanly-natured,
+ Still doth she love her beautiful consort.
+ Towards evening pale and trembling,
+ She peers forth from light clouds,
+ And sadly gazes after the departing one,
+ And in her anguish fain would call to him, "Come!
+ Come! our children are pining for thee!"
+ But the scornful sun-god,
+ At the mere sight of his spouse,
+ Glows in doubly-dyed purple,
+ With wrath and grief,
+ And implacably he hastens downward
+ To the cold waves of his widowed couch.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Thus did evil-whispering tongues
+ Bring grief and ruin
+ Even upon the immortal gods.
+ And the poor gods in heaven above
+ Painfully wander
+ Disconsolate on their eternal path,
+ And cannot die;
+ And drag with them
+ The chain of their glittering misery.
+
+ But I, the son of man,
+ The lowly-born, the death-crowned one,
+ I murmur no more.
+
+
+IV. NIGHT ON THE SHORE.
+
+ Starless and cold is the night,
+ The sea yawns;
+ And outstretched flat on his paunch, over the sea,
+ Lies the uncouth North-wind.
+ Secretly with a groaning, stifled voice,
+ Like a peevish, crabbed man in a freak of good humor,
+ He babbles to the ocean,
+ And recounts many a mad tale,
+ Stories of murderous giants,
+ Quaint old Norwegian Sagas,
+ And from time to time, with re-echoing laughter,
+ He howls forth
+ The conjuration-songs of the Edda,
+ With Runic proverbs
+ So mysteriously arrogant, so magically powerful,
+ That the white children of the sea
+ High in the air upspring and rejoice,
+ Intoxicated with insolence.
+
+ Meanwhile on the level beach,
+ Over the wave-wetted sand,
+ Strides a stranger whose heart
+ Is still wilder than wind or wave.
+ Where his feet fall
+ Sparks are scattered and shells are cracked.
+ And he wraps himself closer in his gray mantle,
+ And walks rapidly through the windy night,
+ Surely guided by a little light,
+ That kindly and invitingly beams
+ From the lonely fisherman's hut.
+
+ Father and brother are on the sea,
+ And quite alone in the hut
+ Bides the fisher's daughter,
+ The fisher's rarely-beautiful daughter.
+ She sits on the hearth,
+ And listens to the cosy auspicious hum
+ Of the boiling kettle,
+ And lays crackling fagots upon the fire.
+ And blows thereon,
+ Till the flickering red flames
+ With a magic charm are reflected
+ On her blooming face.
+ On her delicate white shoulders
+ Which so pathetically outpeep
+ From the coarse gray smock,
+ And on her little tidy hand
+ Which gathers more closely the petticoat
+ About her dainty loins.
+
+ But suddenly the door springs wide,
+ And in steps the nocturnal stranger
+ His eyes rest with confident love
+ On the slim, white maiden,
+ Who stands trembling before him,
+ Like a frightened lily.
+ And he flings his mantle to the ground
+ And laughs and speaks.
+ "Thou see'st my child! I keep my word.
+ And I come, and with me, comes
+ The olden time when the gods of heaven
+ Descended to the daughters of men,
+ And embraced the daughters of men,
+ And begot with them
+ A race of sceptre-bearing kings,
+ And heroes, the wonder of the world.
+ But thou my child, no longer stand amazed
+ At my divinity.
+ And I beseech thee, boil me some tea with rum,
+ For it is cold out doors,
+ And in such a night-air as this,
+ Even we, the eternal gods, must freeze.
+ And we easily catch a divine catarrh,
+ And an immortal cough."
+
+
+V. POSEIDON.
+
+ The sunbeams played
+ Upon the wide rolling sea.
+ Far out on the roadstead glimmered the vessel
+ That was to bear me home.
+ But the favoring wind was lacking,
+ And still quietly I sat on the white down,
+ By the lonely shore.
+
+ And I read the lay of Odysseus,
+ The old, the eternally-young lay,
+ From whose billowy-rushing pages
+ Joyously into me ascended
+ The breath of the gods,
+ And the lustrous spring-tide of humanity,
+ And the blooming skies of Hellas.
+
+ My loyal heart faithfully followed
+ The son of Laertes in his wanderings and vexations,
+ By his side I sat with troubled soul,
+ On the hospitable hearth
+ Where queens were spinning purple.
+
+ And I helped him to lie and happily to escape
+ From the dens of giants and the arms of nymphs.
+ And I followed him into Cimmerian night,
+ Into storm and shipwreck,
+ And with him I suffered unutterable misery.
+
+ With a sigh I spake: "Oh, thou cruel Poseidon,
+ Fearful is thy wrath,
+ And I myself tremble
+ For mine own journey home."
+ Scarce had I uttered the words,
+ When the sea foamed,
+ And from the white billows arose
+ The reed-crowned head of the sea-god.
+ And disdainfully he cried:
+ "Have no fear, Poetling!
+ Not in the least will I imperil
+ Thy poor little ship.
+ Neither will I harass thy precious life
+ With too considerable oscillations.
+ For thou, Poetling, hast never offended me,
+ Thou hast not injured a single turret
+ On the sacred stronghold of Priam.
+ Not a single little lash hast thou singed
+ In the eyelid of my son Polyphemus;
+ And never hast thou been sagely counselled and protected
+ By the goddess of wisdom, Pallas Athene."
+
+ Thus exclaimed Poseidon,
+ And plunged again into the sea.
+ And, at his coarse sailor-wit,
+ Laughed under the water
+ Amphitrite, the stout fishwoman,
+ And the stupid daughters of Nereus.
+
+
+VI. DECLARATION.
+
+ Shadowing downward came dusky evening,
+ Wildly the breakers rolled,
+ I sat alone upon the shore and gazed
+ At the white dance of the waves.
+
+ And my bosom heaved with the sea,
+ A deep homesickness yearningly seized my heart
+ For thee, oh lovely image,
+ Who surround'st me everywhere,
+ Who call'st to me everywhere,
+ Everywhere, everywhere,
+ In the rushing of the wind, in the dashing of the sea,
+ And in the sighing of mine own breast.
+
+ With a slender reed I wrote upon the sand,
+ "Agnes, I love thee!"
+ But the wicked waves came overflowing
+ That sweet confession,
+ And blotted it out.
+
+ Oh brittle reed! oh swiftly-scattered sand!
+ Oh flowing waves, I trust you no more!
+ The heavens grow darker, my heart beats more wildly,
+ And with a mighty hand, from the Norwegian woods,
+ I snatch the loftiest fir,
+ And I plunge it
+ Into Etna's glowing gulf;
+ And, with such a fire-steeped giant's pen,
+ I write on the dusky canopy of heaven,
+ "Agnes, I love thee!"
+
+ Each night hereafter overhead shall blaze
+ Those eternal letters of flame.
+ And all future generations of our descendants
+ Shall joyously read the celestial sign,
+ "Agnes, I love thee!"
+
+
+VII. NIGHT IN THE CABIN.
+
+ The ocean hath its pearls,
+ The heaven hath its stars,
+ But oh, my heart, my heart,
+ My heart hath its love.
+
+ Great are the sea and the heavens,
+ But greater is my heart.
+ And fairer than pearls or stars
+ Glistens and glows my love,
+
+ Thou little, youthful maiden,
+ Come unto my mighty heart.
+ My heart, and the sea, and the heavens
+ Are melting away with love.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ On the azure vault of heaven,
+ Where the beauteous stars are shining,
+ I am fain to press my lips now,
+ Wildly press midst stormy weeping.
+
+ Yonder myriad stars the eyes are
+ Of my darling, and they twinkle,
+ And they beckon to me kindly
+ From the azure vault of heaven.
+
+ Towards the azure vault of heaven,
+ Towards the eyes of my beloved,
+ Piously mine arms uplifting,
+ Thus I supplicate and worship;
+
+ Lovely eyes, ye lights of heaven,
+ Graciously my soul inspire--
+ Let me die and let me win you,
+ You and all your spacious heavens.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ From the eyes of heaven yonder,
+ Golden sparks fall trembling downward,
+ Through the night. My soul dilateth,
+ Filled and overfilled with passion.
+
+ Oh ye eyes of heaven yonder,
+ Weep yourselves to death within me!
+ Till my spirit overfloweth
+ With the radiant starry tear drops.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Cradled by the waves of ocean,
+ And by drowsy thoughts and visions,
+ Still I lie within the cabin,
+ In my berth so dark and narrow.
+
+ Through the open hatchway yonder,
+ I can see the stars clear shining.
+ The beloved eyes so gentle,
+ Of my gentle well-beloved.
+
+ The beloved eyes so gentle
+ Hold above my head their vigil;
+ And they glimmer and they beckon
+ From the azure vault of heaven.
+
+ On the azure vault of heaven,
+ Still I gaze through blessed hours,
+ Till a white and filmy vapor
+ Veils from me those eyes beloved.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Against the wooden wall of the ship
+ Where my dreaming head reclines,
+ Break the waves, the wild sea-waves.
+ They whisper and murmur
+ Close into mine ear:
+ "Oh foolish young fellow,
+ Thine arm is short and the sky is far off,
+ And the stars are all firmly nailed above
+ With golden nails.
+ Vain is thy yearning and vain is thy sighing!
+ The best thou canst do is to go to sleep."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ I dreamed a dream about a strange vast heath,
+ All overlaid with white and quiet snow.
+ And I beneath that white snow buried lay,
+ And slept the cold and lonely sleep of death.
+
+ But from the dark and shadowy heavens yonder,
+ Upon my grave the starry eyes looked down.
+ Those gentle eyes! Triumphantly they sparkled,
+ With still serenity, yet full of love.
+
+
+VIII. STORM.
+
+ The tempest is raging.
+ It lashes the waves,
+ And the waves foaming and rearing in wrath
+ Tower on high, and the white mountains of water
+ Surge as though they were alive,
+ While the little ship over-climbs them
+ With laborious haste,
+ And suddenly plunges down
+ Into the black, wide-yawning abyss of the tide.
+
+ O sea.
+ Thou mother of beauty, of the foam-engendered one,
+ Grandmother of love, spare me!
+ Already scenting death, flutters around me
+ The white, ghostly sea-mew,
+ And whets his beak on the mast.
+ And hungers with glutton-greed for the heart
+ Which resounds with the glory of thy daughter,
+ And which the little rogue, thy grandson,
+ Hath chosen for his play-ground.
+
+ In vain are my prayers and entreaties,
+ My cry dies away in the rushing storm,
+ In the battle-tumult of the winds.
+ They roar and whistle and crackle and howl
+ Like a bedlam of tones.
+ And amidst them, distinctly I hear
+ Alluring notes of harps,
+ Heart-melting, heart-rending,
+ And I recognize the voice.
+
+ Far away on the rocky Scotch coast,
+ Where the little gray castle juts out
+ Over the breaking waves,--
+ There at the lofty-arched window
+ Stands a beautiful suffering woman,
+ Transparently delicate, and pale as marble.
+ And she plays on the harp, and she sings,
+ And the wind stirs her flowing locks,
+ And wafts her melancholy song
+ Over the wide, stormy sea.
+
+
+IX. CALM.
+
+ Calm at sea! The sunbeams flicker
+ Falling on the level water,
+ And athwart the liquid jewels
+ Ploughs the ship her emerald furrows.
+
+ By the rudder lies the pilot
+ On his stomach, gently snoring,
+ Near the mast, the tarry ship-boy
+ Stoops at work, the sail repairing.
+
+ 'Neath their smut his cheeks are ruddy,
+ Hotly flushed,--his broad mouth twitches.
+ Full of sadness are the glances
+ Of his eyes so large and lovely.
+
+ For the captain stands before him,
+ Raves and scolds and curses: "Rascal!
+ Little rascal, thou hast robbed me
+ Of a herring from the barrel."
+
+ Calm at sea! above the water
+ comes a cunning fish out-peeping.
+ Warms his little head in sunshine,
+ Merrily his small fins plashing.
+
+ But from airy heights, the sea-mew
+ On the little fish darts downward.
+ Carrying in his beak his booty
+ Back he soars into the azure.
+
+
+X. AN APPARITION IN THE SEA.
+
+ I however lay on the edge of the vessel,
+ And gazed with dreamy eyes
+ Down into the glass-clear water.
+ And gazed deeper and deeper,
+ Deep down into the bottom of the sea.
+ At first like a twilight mist,
+ Then gradually more distinctly colored,
+ Domes of churches and towers arose,
+ And at last, as clear as sunshine, a whole city,
+ An antique Netherland city,
+ Enlivened with people.
+ Grave men with black mantles,
+ And white ruffs, and chains of honor,
+ And long swords and long faces,
+ Strode over the swarming market-place,
+ Towards the court-house with its high steps,
+ Where the stone effigies of emperors
+ Kept guard with scepter and sword.
+ Near by, past long rows of houses,
+ Past casements like polished mirrors,
+ And pyramidal, clipped lindens,
+ Wandered, in rustling silks, the young maidens,
+ With slender forms, and flower-faces
+ Decently encircled by their black hoods,
+ And their waving golden hair.
+ Motley-clad folk in Spanish garb
+ Strut past and salute each other.
+ Elderly dames
+ In brown, old-fashioned attire,
+ Missal and rosary in hand,
+ Hasten with tripping steps
+ Towards the great cathedral,
+ Drawn thither by the chiming bells,
+ And by the deep-voiced tones of the organ.
+
+ And the far-off chimes smite me also
+ With mysterious awe.
+ Insatiable yearning, profound sadness
+ Steal into my heart,
+ Into my scarcely-healed heart.
+ I feel as if its wounds
+ Were kissed open by beloved lips,
+ And began to bleed afresh,
+ With hot, red drops,
+ That fall long and slowly,
+ On an old house below there,
+ In the deep city of the sea;--
+ On an old high-gabled house,
+ Sadly deserted by all living creatures,
+ Save that in the lower window,
+ Sits a maiden,
+ Her head resting on her arms,
+ Like a poor, forsaken child,
+ And I know thee, thou poor forsaken child.
+ Deep down, deep as the sea,
+ Thou hiddest thyself from me,
+ In a childish freak,
+ And never couldst rise again.
+
+ And thou sat'st a stranger among strangers,
+ Through long ages,
+ Whilst I, my soul full of grief,--
+ I sought thee over the whole earth.
+ Forever I sought thee,
+ Thou ever-beloved,
+ Thou long-lost,
+ Thou found at last!
+ I have found thee, and I see once more
+ Thy sweet face,
+ The wise, loyal eyes,
+ The darling smile,
+ And never again will I leave thee,
+ And I come down to thee now,
+ And with wide-stretched arms,
+ I leap down upon thy breast.
+
+ But just at the right moment
+ The captain seized me by the foot,
+ And drew me from the edge of the vessel,
+ And cried with a peevish laugh,
+ "Doctor, are you possessed by the devil?"
+
+
+XI. PURIFICATION.
+
+ Remain in thy deep sea-home,
+ Thou insane dream,
+ Which so many a night
+ Hast tortured my heart with a counterfeit happiness,
+ And which now as a vision of the sea
+ Dost threaten me even in the broad daylight.
+ Remain there below to all eternity!
+ And I cast moreover down unto thee
+ All my sorrows and sins,
+ And the cap and bells of folly
+ That have jingled so long upon my head.
+ And the cold, sleek serpent's skin
+ Of dissimulation,
+ Which so long has enwound my soul--
+ My sick soul,
+ My God-denying, angel-denying
+ Wretched soul.
+ Hilli-ho! Hilli-ho! Here comes the breeze.
+ Up with the sails! They flutter and belly to the wind.
+ Over the treacherous smooth plain
+ Hastens the ship
+ And the emancipated soul rejoices.
+
+
+XII. PEACE.
+
+ High in heaven stood the sun,
+ Surrounded by white clouds.
+ The sea was calm;
+ And I lay musing on the helm of the ship,
+ Dreamily musing, and, half-awake,
+ Half asleep, I saw Christ,
+ The Savior of the world.
+ In waving white raiment
+ He strode gigantically tall
+ Over land and sea.
+ His head touched heaven,
+ He spread his hands in benediction
+ Over land and sea;
+ And for a heart in his bosom
+ He bore the sun,
+ The red fiery sun,
+ And the red, fiery sun-heart
+ Showered its beams of grace,
+ And its pure love-bestowing light,
+ That illumines and warms
+ Over land and sea.
+
+ Peals of festal bells drew hither and thither,
+ As swans might draw by chains of roses
+ The smooth-gliding vessel,
+ And sportively drew it to the verdant banks,
+ Where folk dwelt in a lofty-towered
+ Overhanging town.
+ Oh miracle of peace! How quiet was the town!
+ Hushed was the dull murmur of chattering, sweltering Trade.
+ And through the clean, resounding streets,
+ Walked people clad in white,
+ Bearing branches of palm.
+ And when two such would meet,
+ They looked at each other with ardent sympathy
+ And, trembling with love and self denial,
+ Kissed each other's brow,
+ And glanced upward
+ Towards the sun-heart of the Savior,
+ Which in glad propitiation irradiated downward
+ Its crimson blood:
+ And thrice they exclaimed,
+ "Praised be Jesus Christ!"
+
+ Couldst thou have conceived this vision,
+ What wouldst thou have given,
+ Most dearly beloved,--
+ Thou who art so weak in body and mind,
+ And so strong in faith!
+ Thou who so singly honorest the Trinity,
+ Who kissest daily the pug and the reins and the paws
+ Of thy lofty protectress,
+ And hastenest with canting devotion
+ To the Aulic councilor and to the councilor of justice,
+ And at last to the council of the Realm
+ In the pious city,
+ Where sand and faith flourish,
+ And the long-suffering waters of the sacred Spree
+ Purify souls and dilute tea.
+ Couldst thou have conceived this vision
+ Most dearly beloved,
+ Thou hadst borne it to the lofty minnows of the market place,
+ With thy pale blinking countenance,
+ Rapt with piety and humility;
+ And their high mightinesses
+ Ravished and trembling with ecstacy,
+ Would have fallen praying with thee on their knees,
+ And their eyes glowing with beatitude,
+ Would have promised thee an increase of salary,
+ Of a hundred thalers Prussian currency.
+ And thou wouldst have stammered with folded hands,
+ "Praised be Jesus Christ!"
+
+
+
+
+SECOND CYCLUS.
+
+Motto, Xenophon's Anabasis--IV. V.
+
+
+I. SALUTATION TO THE SEA.
+
+ Thalatta! Thalatta!
+ All hail to thee, thou Eternal sea!
+ All hail to thee ten thousand times
+ From my jubilant heart,
+ As once thou wast hailed
+ By ten thousand Grecian hearts,
+ Misfortune-combating, homeward-yearning,
+ World-renowned Grecian hearts.
+
+ The waters heaved,
+ They heaved and roared.
+ The sun poured streaming downward
+ Its flickering rosy lights.
+ The startled flocks of sea-mews
+ Fluttered away with shrill screams;
+ The coursers stamped, the shields rattled,
+ And far out, resounded like a triumphal paean,
+ Thalatta! Thalatta!
+
+ All hail to thee, thou Eternal Sea!
+ Like the language of home, thy water whispers to me.
+ Like the dreams of my childhood I see it glimmer.
+ Over thy billowy realm of waves.
+ And it repeats to me anew olden memories,
+ Of all the beloved glorious sports,
+ Of all the twinkling Christmas gifts,
+ Of all the ruddy coral-trees,
+ Tiny golden fishes, pearls and bright-hued mussels,
+ Which thou dost secretly preserve
+ Below there in thy limpid house of crystal.
+
+ Oh, how I have pined in barren exile!
+ Like a withered flower
+ In the tin box of a botanist,
+ My heart lay in my breast.
+ I feel as if all winter I had sat,
+ A sick man, in a dark, sick room,
+ Which now I suddenly leave.
+ And dazzlingly shines down upon me
+ The emerald spring, the sunshine-awakened spring,
+ And the white-blossomed trees are rustling;
+ And the young flowers look at me,
+ With their many-colored, fragrant eyes.
+ And there is an aroma, and a murmuring, and a breathing and a
+ laughter,
+ And in the blue sky the little birds are singing,
+ Thalatta! Thalatta!
+
+ Thou valiant, retreating heart,
+ How oft, how bitter oft
+ Did the fair barbarians of the North press thee hard!
+ From their large victorious eyes
+ They darted burning shafts.
+ With crooked, polished words,
+ They threatened to cleave my breast.
+ With sharp-pointed missives they shattered
+ My poor, stunned brain.
+ In vain I held up against them my shield,
+ The arrows whizzed, the strokes cracked,
+ And from the fair barbarians of the North
+ I was pressed even unto the sea.
+ And now with deep, free breath, I hail the sea,
+ The dear, redeeming sea--
+ Thalatta! Thalatta!
+
+
+II. TEMPEST.
+
+ Gloomy lowers the tempest over the sea,
+ And through the black wall of cloud
+ Is unsheathed the jagged lightning,
+ Swift outflashing, and swift-vanishing,
+ Like a jest from the brain of Chronos.
+ Over the barren, billowy water,
+ Far away rolls the thunder,
+ And up leap the white water-steeds,
+ Which Boreas himself begot
+ Out of the graceful mare of Erichthon,
+ And the sea-birds flutter around,
+ Like the shadowy dead on the Styx,
+ Whom Charon repels from his nocturnal boat.
+
+ Poor, merry, little vessel,
+ Dancing yonder the most wretched of dances!
+ Eolus sends it his liveliest comrades,
+ Who wildly play to the jolliest measures;
+ One pipes his horn, another blows,
+ A third scrapes his growling bass-viol.
+ And the uncertain sailor stands at the rudder,
+ And constantly gazes at the compass,
+ The trembling soul of the ship;
+ And he raises his hands in supplication to Heaven--
+ "Oh, save me, Castor, gigantic hero!
+ And thou conquering wrestler, Pollux."
+
+
+III. WRECKED.
+
+ Hope and love! everything shattered
+ And I myself, like a corpse
+ That the growling sea has cast up,
+ I lie on the strand,
+ On the barren cold strand.
+ Before me surges the waste of waters,
+ Behind me lies naught but grief and misery;
+ And above me, march the clouds,--
+ The formless, gray daughters of the air,
+ Who from the sea, in buckets of mist,
+ Draw the water,
+ And laboriously drag and drag it,
+ And spill it again in the sea--
+ A melancholy, tedious task,
+ And useless as my own life.
+
+ The waves murmur, the sea mews scream,
+ Old recollections possess me;
+ Forgotten dreams, banished visions,
+ Tormentingly sweet, uprise.
+
+ There lives a woman in the North,
+ A beautiful woman, royally beautiful.
+ Her slender, cypress-like form
+ Is swathed in a light, white raiment.
+ Her locks, in their dusky fullness,
+ Like a blessed night,
+ Streaming from her braid-crowned head,
+ Curl softly as a dream
+ Around the sweet, pale face;
+ And from the sweet pale face
+ Large and powerful beams an eye,
+ Like a black sun.
+ Oh thou black sun, how oft,
+ How rapturously oft, I drank from thee
+ The wild flames of inspiration!
+ And stood and reeled, intoxicated with fire.
+ Then there hovered a smile as mild as a dove,
+ About the arched, haughty lips.
+ And the arched, haughty lips
+ Breathed forth words as sweet as moonlight,
+ And delicate as the fragrance of the rose.
+ And my soul soared aloft,
+ And flew like an eagle up into the heavens.
+
+ Silence ye waves and sea mews!
+ All is over! joy and hope--
+ Hope and love! I lie on the ground
+ An empty, shipwrecked man,
+ And press my glowing face
+ Into the moist sand.
+
+
+IV. SUNSET.
+
+ The beautiful sun
+ Has quietly descended into the sea.
+ The surging water is already tinted
+ By dusky night--
+ But still the red of evening
+ Sprinkles it with golden lights.
+ And the rushing might of the tide
+ Presses toward the shore the white waves,
+ That merrily and nimbly leap
+ Like woolly flocks of sheep,
+ Which at evening the singing shepherd boy
+ Drives homeward.
+
+ "How beautiful is the sun!"
+ Thus spake after a long silence, the friend
+ Who wandered with me on the beach.
+ And, half in jest, half in sober sadness,
+ He assured me that the sun
+ Was a beautiful woman, who had for policy
+ Espoused the old god of the sea.
+ All day she wanders joyously
+ In the lofty heavens, decked with purple,
+ And sparkling with diamonds;
+ Universally beloved, universally admired
+ By all creatures of the globe,
+ And cheering all creatures of the globe
+ With the radiance and warmth of her glance.
+ But at evening, wretchedly constrained,
+ She returns once more
+ To the wet home, to the empty arms
+ Of her hoary spouse.
+
+ "Believe me," added my friend,
+ And laughed and sighed, and laughed again,
+ "They live down there in the daintiest wedlock;
+ Either they sleep or else they quarrel,
+ Until high upheaves the sea above them,
+ And the sailor amidst the roaring of the waves can hear
+ How the old fellow berates his wife:
+ 'Round strumpet of the universe!
+ Sunbeam coquette!
+ The whole day you shine for others,
+ And at night for me you are frosty and tired.'
+ After such curtain lectures,--
+ Quite naturally--bursts into tears
+ The proud sun, and bemoans her misery,
+ And bemoans so lamentably long, that the sea god
+ Suddenly springs desperately out of his bed,
+ And quickly swims up to the surface of the ocean,
+ To collect his wits and to breathe."
+
+ Thus did I myself see him yester-night,
+ Uprise from the bosom of the sea.
+ He had a jacket of yellow flannel,
+ And a lily-white night cap,
+ And a withered countenance.
+
+
+V. THE SONG OF THE OCEANIDES.
+
+ 'Tis nightfall and paler grows the sea.
+ And alone with his lonely soul,
+ There sits a man on the cold strand
+ And turns his death-cold glances
+ Towards the vast, death-cold vault of heaven,
+ And toward the vast, billowy sea.
+ On airy sails float forth his sighs;
+ And melancholy they return,
+ And find the heart close-locked,
+ Wherein they fain would anchor.
+ And he groans so loud that the white sea-mews,
+ Startled out of their sandy nests,
+ Flutter circling around him.
+ And he laughingly speaks to them thus:
+
+ "Ye black-legged birds,
+ With white wings, oversea flutterers!
+ With crooked beaks, salt-water bibbers,
+ Ye oily seal-flesh devourers!
+ Your life is as bitter as your food.
+ I, however, the fortunate, taste naught but sweets!
+ I taste the fragrance of the rose,
+ The moonshine-nourished bride of the nightingale.
+ I taste still sweeter sugar-plums,
+ Stuffed with whipped cream.
+ And the sweetest of all things I taste,
+ The sweets of loving and of being loved!
+
+ "She loves me, she loves me, the dear girl!
+ Now stands she at home on the balcony of her house,
+ And gazes forth in the twilight upon the street,
+ And listens and yearns for me,--really!
+ Vainly does she glance around, and sigh,
+ And sighing she descends to the garden,
+ And wanders midst the fragrance and the moonlight,
+ And talks to the flowers, and tells them
+ How I, her beloved, am so lovely and so lovable--really!
+ Later in her bed, in her sleep, in her dreams,
+ Blissfully she hovers about my precious image,
+ So that in the morning at breakfast
+ Upon the glistening buttered bread,
+ She sees my smiling face,
+ And she devours it for sheer love--really!"
+
+ Thus boasted and boasted he,
+ And meanwhile screamed the sea-mews,
+ As with cold, ironical tittering.
+ The twilight mists ascended,
+ Uncannily forth from lilac clouds
+ Peered the greenish-yellow moon.
+ Loud roared the billows,
+ And deep from the loud roaring sea,
+ As plaintive as a whispering monsoon,
+ Sounded the song of the Oceanides--
+ Of the beautiful, compassionate mermaids,
+ Distinct midst them all the lovely voice
+ Of the silver-footed spouse of Peleus--
+ And they sigh and sing:
+
+ "Oh fool, thou fool, thou boasting fool,
+ Tormented with misery!
+ Destroyed are all thy hopes,
+ The playful children of the heart--
+ And ah! thy heart, Niobe-like,
+ Is petrified with grief!
+ In thy brain falls the night,
+ And therein are unsheathed the lightnings of frenzy,
+ And thou makest a boast of thy trouble!
+ Oh fool, thou fool, thou boasting fool!
+ Stiff-necked art thou as thy forefather,
+ The lofty Titan, who stole celestial fire
+ From the gods, and bestowed it upon man.
+ And tortured by eagles chained to the rock,
+ Olympus-high he flung defiance, flung defiance and groaned,
+ Till we heard it in the depths of the sea,
+ And came to him with the song of consolation.
+ Oh fool, thou fool, thou boasting fool!
+ Thou, however, art more impotent still.
+ 'Twere more seemly that thou shouldst honor the gods,
+ And patiently bear the burden of misery,
+ And patiently bear it, long, so long,
+ Till Atlas himself would lose patience,
+ And cast from his shoulders the ponderous world
+ Into eternal night."
+
+ So rang the song of the Oceanides,
+ Of the beautiful compassionate mermaids,
+ Until louder waves overpowered it.
+ Behind the clouds retired the moon,
+ The night yawned,
+ And I sat long thereafter in the darkness and wept.
+
+
+VI. THE GODS OF GREECE.
+
+ Full-blooming moon, in thy radiance,
+ Like flowing gold shines the sea.
+ With daylight clearness, yet twilight enchantment,
+ Thy beams lie over the wide, level beach.
+ And in the pure, blue starless heavens,
+ Float the white clouds,
+ Like colossal images of gods
+ Of gleaming marble.
+
+ No more again! those are no clouds!
+ They are themselves--the gods of Hellas,
+ Who erst so joyously governed the world,
+ But now, supplanted and dead,
+ Yonder, like monstrous ghosts, must fare,
+ Through the midnight skies.
+
+ Amazed and strangely dazzled, I contemplate
+ The ethereal Pantheon.
+ The solemnly mute, awfully agitated,
+ Gigantic forms.
+ There is Chronos yonder, the king of heaven;
+ Snow-white are the curls of his head,
+ The world-renowned Olympus-shaking curls.
+ He holds in his hand the quenched lightning,
+ In his face dwell misfortune and grief;
+ But even yet the olden pride.
+ Those were better days, oh Zeus,
+ When thou didst celestially divert thyself
+ With youths and nymphs and hecatombs.
+ But the gods themselves, reign not forever;
+ The young supplant the old,
+ As thou thyself, thy hoary father,
+ And thy Titan-uncle didst supplant
+ Jupiter-Parricida!
+ Thee also, I recognize, haughty Juno;
+ Despite all thy jealous care,
+ Another has wrested thy sceptre from thee,
+ And thou art no longer Queen of Heaven.
+
+ And thy great eyes are blank,
+ And thy lily arms are powerless,
+ And nevermore may thy vengeance smite
+ The divinely-quickened Virgin,
+ And the miracle-performing son of God.
+ Thee also I recognize, Pallas Athena!
+ With thy shield and thy wisdom, could'st thou not avert
+ The ruin of the gods?
+ Also thee I recognize, thee also, Aphrodite!
+ Once the golden, now the silvern!
+ 'Tis true that the love-charmed zone still adorns thee
+ But I shudder with horror at thy beauty.
+ And if thy gracious body were to favor me
+ Like other heroes, I should die of terror.
+ Thou seemest to me a goddess-corpse,
+ Venus Libitina!
+ No longer glances toward thee with love,
+ Yonder the dread Ares!
+ How melancholy looks Phoebus Apollo
+ The youth. His lyre is silent,
+ Which once so joyously resounded at the feast of the gods.
+
+ Still sadder looks Hephaistos.
+ And indeed nevermore shall the limper
+ Stumble into the service of Hebe,
+ And nimbly pour forth to the assemblage
+ The luscious nectar. And long ago was extinguished
+ The unextinguishable laughter of the gods.
+
+ I have never loved you, ye gods!
+ For to me are the Greeks antipathetic,
+ And even the Romans are hateful.
+ But holy compassion and sacred pity
+ Penetrate my heart,
+ When I now gaze upon you yonder,
+ Deserted gods!
+ Dead night-wandering shadows,
+ Weak as mists which the wind scares away.
+ And when I recall how dastardly and visionary
+ Are the gods who have supplanted you,
+ The new, reigning, dolorous gods,
+ Mischief-plotters in the sheep's clothing of humility,
+ Oh then a more sullen rancor possesses me,
+ And I fain would shatter the new Temples,
+ And battle for you, ye ancient gods,--
+ For you and your good ambrosial cause.
+ And before your high altars,
+ Rebuilt with their extinguished fires,
+ Fain would I kneel and pray,
+ And supplicating uplift mine arms.
+
+ Always ye ancient gods,
+ Even in the battles of mortals,
+ Always did ye espouse the cause of the victor.
+ But man is more magnanimous than ye,
+ And in the battles of the gods, he now takes the part
+ Of the gods who have been vanquished.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Thus spake I, and lo, visibly blushed
+ Yonder the wan cloud figures,
+ And they gazed upon me like the dying,
+ Transfigured by sorrow, and suddenly disappeared.
+ The moon was concealed
+ Behind dark advancing clouds.
+ Loud roared the sea.
+ And triumphantly came forth in the heavens
+ The eternal stars.
+
+
+VII. THE PHOENIX.
+
+ A bird comes flying out of the West;
+ He flies to the Eastward,
+ Towards the Eastern garden-home,
+ Where spices shed fragrance, and flourish,
+ And palms rustle and fountains scatter coolness.
+ And in his flight the magic bird sings:
+
+ "She loves him! she loves him!
+ She carries his portrait in her little heart,
+ And she carries it sweetly and secretly hidden,
+ And knoweth it not herself!
+ But in dreams he stands before her.
+ She implores and weeps and kisses his hands,
+ And calls his name,
+ And calling she awakes, and she lies in affright,
+ And amazed she rubs her beautiful eyes,--
+ She loves him! she loves him!"
+
+ Leaning on the mast on the upper deck,
+ I stood and heard the bird's song.
+ Like blackish-green steeds with silver manes,
+ Leapt the white crisp-curling waves.
+ Like flocks of swans glided past,
+ With gleaming sails, the Helgolands,
+ The bold nomads of the North Sea.
+ Above me in the eternal blue
+ Fluttered white clouds,
+ And sparkled the eternal sun,
+ The Rose of heaven, the fire-blossoming,
+ Which joyously was mirrored in the sea.
+ And the heavens and seas and mine own heart
+ Resounded in echo--
+ She loves him! she loves him!
+
+
+VIII. QUESTION.
+
+ By the sea, by the desolate nocturnal sea,
+ Stands a youthful man,
+ His breast full of sadness, his head full of doubt.
+ And with bitter lips he questions the waves:
+ "Oh solve me the riddle of life!
+ The cruel, world-old riddle,
+ Concerning which, already many a head hath been racked.
+ Heads in hieroglyphic-hats,
+ Heads in turbans and in black caps,
+ Periwigged heads, and a thousand other
+ Poor, sweating human heads.
+ Tell me, what signifies man?
+ Whence does he come? whither does he go?
+ Who dwells yonder above the golden stars?"
+
+ The waves murmur their eternal murmur,
+ The winds blow, the clouds flow past.
+ Cold and indifferent twinkle the stars,
+ And a fool awaits an answer.
+
+
+IX. SEA-SICKNESS.
+
+ The gray afternoon clouds
+ Drop lower over the sea,
+ Which darkly riseth to meet them,
+ And between them both fares the ship.
+
+ Sea-sick I still sit by the mast
+ And all by myself indulge in meditation,
+ Those world-old ashen-gray meditations,
+ Which erst our father Lot entertained,
+ When he had enjoyed too much of a good thing,
+ And afterward suffered such inconvenience.
+ Meanwhile I think also of old stories;
+ How pilgrims with the cross on their breast in days of yore,
+ On their stormy voyages, devoutly kissed
+ The consoling image of the blessed Virgin.
+ How sick knights in such ocean-trials,
+ Pressed to their lips with equal comfort
+ The dear glove of their lady.
+ But I sit and chew in vexation
+ An old herring, my salty comforter,
+ Midst caterwauling and dogged tribulation.
+
+ Meanwhile the ship wrestles
+ With the wild billowy tide.
+ Like a rearing war-horse she stands erect,
+ Upon her stern, till the helm cracks.
+
+ Now crashes she headforemost downward once more
+ Into the howling abyss of waters,
+ Then again, as if recklessly love-languid,
+ She tries to recline
+ On the black bosom of the gigantic waves,
+ Which powerfully seethe upward,
+ And immediately a chaotic ocean-cataract
+ Plunges down in crisp-curling whiteness,
+ And covers me with foam.
+
+ This shaking and swinging and tossing
+ Is unendurable!
+ Vainly mine eye peers forth and seeks
+ The German coast. But alas! only water,
+ And everywhere water--turbulent water!
+
+ Even as the traveller in winter, thirsts
+ For a warm cordial cup of tea,
+ So does my heart now thirst for thee
+ My German fatherland.
+ May thy sweet soil ever be covered
+ With lunacy, hussars and bad verses,
+ And thin, lukewarm treatises.
+ May thy zebras ever be fattened
+ On roses instead of thistles.
+ Ever may thy noble apes
+ Haughtily strut in negligent attire,
+ And esteem themselves better than all other
+ Priggish heavy-footed, horned cattle.
+ May thine assemblies of snails
+ Ever deem themselves immortal
+ Because they crawl forward so slowly;
+ And may they daily convoke in full force,
+ To discuss whether the cheesemould belongs to the cheese;
+ And still longer may they convene
+ To decide how best to honor the Egyptian sheep,
+ So that its wool may improve
+ And it may be shorn like others,
+ With no difference.
+ Forever may folly and wrong
+ Cover thee all over, oh Germany,
+ Nevertheless I yearn towards thee--
+ For at least thou art dry land.
+
+
+X. IN PORT.
+
+ Happy the man who has reached port,
+ And left behind the sea and the tempest,
+ And who now sits, quietly and warm,
+ In the goodly town-cellar of Bremen.
+
+ How pleasantly and cordially
+ The world is mirrored in the wine-glass.
+ And how the waving microcosm
+ Pours sunnily down into the thirsty heart!
+ I see everything in the glass,--
+ Ancient and modern tribes,
+ Turks and Greeks, Hegel and Gans,
+ Citron groves and guard-parades,
+ Berlin and Schilda, and Tunis and Hamburg.
+ Above all the image of my beloved,
+ The little angel-head against the golden background of Rhine-wine.
+
+ Oh how beautiful! how beautiful thou art, beloved!
+ Thou art like a rose.
+ Not like the Rose of Shiraz,
+ The Hafiz-besung bride of the nightingale.
+ Not like the Rose of Sharon,
+ The sacred purple extolled by the prophet.
+ Thou art like the rose in the wine-cellar of Bremen.
+ That is the rose of roses,
+ The older it grows the fairer it blooms,
+ And its celestial perfume has inspired me.
+ And did not mine host of the town-cellar of Bremen
+ Hold me fast, fast by my hair,
+ I should tumble head over heels.
+
+ The worthy man! we sat together,
+ And drank like brothers.
+ We spake of lofty, mysterious things,
+ We sighed and sank in each other's arms.
+ And he led me back to the religion of love:
+ I drank to the health of my bitterest enemy,
+ And I forgave all bad poets,
+ As I shall some day hope to be forgiven myself.
+ I wept with fervor of piety, and at last
+ The portals of salvation were opened to me,
+ Where the twelve Apostles, the holy wine-butts,
+ Preach in silence and yet so intelligibly
+ Unto all people.
+
+ Those are men!
+ Without, unseemly in their wooden garb,
+ Within, they are more beautiful and brilliant
+ Than all the haughty Levites of the Temple,
+ And the guards and courtiers of Herod,
+ Decked with gold and arrayed in purple.
+ But I have always averred
+ That not amidst quite common folk--
+ No, in the very best society,
+ Perpetually abides the King of Heaven.
+
+ Hallelujah! How lovely around me
+ Wave the palms of Beth-El!
+ How fragrant are the myrrh-trees of Hebron!
+ How the Jordan rustles and reels with joy!
+ And my immortal soul also reels,
+ And I reel with her, and, reeling,
+ The worthy host of the town-cellar of Bremen
+ Leads me up-stairs into the light of day.
+
+ Thou worthy host of the town-cellar of Bremen,
+ Seest thou on the roofs of the houses,
+ Sit the angels, and they are drunk and they sing.
+ The glowing sun up yonder
+ Is naught but a red drunken nose.
+ The nose of the spirit of the universe,
+ And around the red nose of the spirit of the universe
+ Reels the whole tipsy world.
+
+
+XI. EPILOGUE.
+
+ Like the stalks of wheat in the fields,
+ So flourish and wave in the mind of man
+ His thoughts.
+ But the delicate fancies of love
+ Are like gay little intermingled blossoms
+ Of red and blue flowers.
+
+ Red and blue flowers!
+ The surly reaper rejects you as useless.
+ The wooden flail scornfully thrashes you,
+ Even the luckless traveler,
+ Whom your aspect delights and refreshes,
+ Shakes his head,
+ And calls you beautiful weeds.
+
+ But the rustic maiden,
+ The wearer of garlands,
+ Honors you, and plucks you,
+ And adorns with you her fair locks.
+ And thus decorated she hastens to the dancing-green
+ Where the flutes and fiddles sweetly resound;
+ Or to the quiet bushes
+ Where the voice of her beloved soundeth sweeter still
+ Than fiddles or flutes.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems and Ballads of Heinrich Heine, by
+Heinrich Heine
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS/BALLADS OF HEINRICH HEINE ***
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