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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/31726-8.txt b/31726-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3ee0e21 --- /dev/null +++ b/31726-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5594 @@ +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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS/BALLADS OF HEINRICH HEINE *** + +***** This file should be named 31726-8.txt or 31726-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/7/2/31726/ + +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.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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, & 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"> </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> </td> + <td><a href="#SONNETS_TO_MY_MOTHER_B_HEINE"><span class="smcap">Sonnets to my Mother, B. Heine</span>, <i>née</i> <span class="smcap">Von Geldern</span></a></td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td> </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> </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> </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> </td> + <td><a href="#TANNHAUSER"><span class="smcap">Tannhäuser.</span></a></td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td> </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> </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> </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> </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> </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> </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> </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> </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> </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> </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> </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> </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> </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—<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 Phœnix</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 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 "<i>femme +distinguée</i>." 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 +<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 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 +<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—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 <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 süssen Füssen</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—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.</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—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 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."</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—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>née</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—<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,—<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—<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,—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 belovèd,<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, belovèd,"<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 belovèd,<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 accursèd 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 belovèd,<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, belovèd,"<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, Señora, your belovèd,<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,—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,—<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,—<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—<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>TANNHÄUSER.</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 Tannhäuser,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To bid your souls beware.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Brave Tannhäuser, 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 Tannhäuser,<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 Tannhäuser,<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 Tannhäuser,<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,—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,—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 Tannhäuser,<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">"Tannhäuser, 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 Tannhäuser,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His feet were bleeding and torn—<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 Tannhäuser,<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,—<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 Danaïdes."<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 cursèd 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 blessèd 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,—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—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—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—<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—<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—<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—<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,—<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—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—<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 règle</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For now he is studying Sanscrit and Hegel.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His favorite poet is still Fouqué;<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 Hecaté.<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,—<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,—<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—<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—<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—<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—<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—<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—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—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—<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—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—<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—<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—<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—<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, Señora, 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—there she lies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There slumbers she still—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—<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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then ebb slow and slower—<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,—<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—<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—<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—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—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—'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.—<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—<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—<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—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! belovèd 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—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 belovèd,<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—<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 belovèd eyes so gentle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of my gentle well-belovèd.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The belovèd 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 belovèd.<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,—<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,—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 belovèd 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;—<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,—<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-belovèd,<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—<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 belovèd,—<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 belovèd,<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—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 pæan,<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 belovèd 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—<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—<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,—<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—<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—<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—<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,—<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Quite naturally—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,—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 belovèd, am so lovely and so lovable—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—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—<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—<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—<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—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,—<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 PHŒNIX.</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,—<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—<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—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—<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,—<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 belovèd,<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, belovèd!<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—<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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS/BALLADS OF HEINRICH HEINE *** + +***** This file should be named 31726-h.htm or 31726-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/7/2/31726/ + +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.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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 *** + +***** This file should be named 31726.txt or 31726.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/7/2/31726/ + +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.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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