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diff --git a/6794-h/6794-h.htm b/6794-h/6794-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8ef4649 --- /dev/null +++ b/6794-h/6794-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3083 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="us-ascii"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Schiller's Poems, First Period + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +Project Gutenberg's Poems of The First Period, by Friedrich Schiller + +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 of The First Period + +Author: Friedrich Schiller + +Release Date: October 26, 2006 [EBook #6794] +Last Updated: November 6, 2012 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS OF THE FIRST PERIOD *** + + + + +Produced by Tapio Riikonen and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <h1> + SCHILLER'S POEMS + </h1> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + Poems of the First Period + </h1> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Friedrich Schiller + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="4frontpiece (97K)" src="images/4frontpiece.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <table summary=""> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> POEMS OF THE FIRST PERIOD. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_FOOT"> FOOTNOTES </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + POEMS OF THE FIRST PERIOD + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Hector and Andromache + Amalia + A Funeral Fantasie + Fantasie—To Laura + To Laura at the Harpsichord + Group from Tartarus + Rapture—To Laura + To Laura (The Mystery of Reminiscence) + Melancholy—To Laura + The Infanticide + The Greatness of the World + Fortune and Wisdom + Elegy on the Death of a Young Man + The Battle + Rousseau + Friendship + Elysium + The Fugitive + To Minna + The Flowers + The Triumph of Love (A Hymn) + To a Moralist + Count Eberhard, the Groaner of Wurtemburg + To the Spring + Semele +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + POEMS OF THE FIRST PERIOD. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE. + + [This and the following poem are, with some alterations, introduced + in the Play of "The Robbers."] + + ANDROMACHE. + Will Hector leave me for the fatal plain, + Where, fierce with vengeance for Patroclus slain, + Stalks Peleus' ruthless son? + Who, when thou glid'st amid the dark abodes, + To hurl the spear and to revere the gods, + Shall teach thine orphan one? + + HECTOR. + Woman and wife beloved—cease thy tears; + My soul is nerved—the war-clang in my ears! + Be mine in life to stand + Troy's bulwark!—fighting for our hearths, to go + In death, exulting to the streams below, + Slain for my fatherland! + + ANDROMACHE. + No more I hear thy martial footsteps fall— + Thine arms shall hang, dull trophies, on the wall— + Fallen the stem of Troy! + Thou goest where slow Cocytus wanders—where + Love sinks in Lethe, and the sunless air + Is dark to light and joy! + + HECTOR. + Longing and thought—yes, all I feel and think + May in the silent sloth of Lethe sink, + But my love not! + Hark, the wild swarm is at the walls!—I hear! + Gird on my sword—Beloved one, dry the tear— + Lethe for love is not! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + AMALIA. + + Angel-fair, Walhalla's charms displaying, + Fairer than all mortal youths was he; + Mild his look, as May-day sunbeams straying + Gently o'er the blue and glassy sea. + + And his kisses!—what ecstatic feeling! + Like two flames that lovingly entwine, + Like the harp's soft tones together stealing + Into one sweet harmony divine,— + + Soul and soul embraced, commingled, blended, + Lips and cheeks with trembling passion burned, + Heaven and earth, in pristine chaos ended, + Round the blissful lovers madly turn'd. + + He is gone—and, ah! with bitter anguish + Vainly now I breathe my mournful sighs; + He is gone—in hopeless grief I languish + Earthly joys I ne'er again can prize! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + A FUNERAL FANTASIE. + + Pale, at its ghastly noon, + Pauses above the death-still wood—the moon; + The night-sprite, sighing, through the dim air stirs; + The clouds descend in rain; + Mourning, the wan stars wane, + Flickering like dying lamps in sepulchres! + Haggard as spectres—vision-like and dumb, + Dark with the pomp of death, and moving slow, + Towards that sad lair the pale procession come + Where the grave closes on the night below. + + With dim, deep-sunken eye, + Crutched on his staff, who trembles tottering by? + As wrung from out the shattered heart, one groan + Breaks the deep hush alone! + Crushed by the iron fate, he seems to gather + All life's last strength to stagger to the bier, + And hearken—Do these cold lips murmur "Father?" + The sharp rain, drizzling through that place of fear, + Pierces the bones gnawed fleshless by despair, + And the heart's horror stirs the silver hair. + + Fresh bleed the fiery wounds + Through all that agonizing heart undone— + Still on the voiceless lips "my Father" sounds, + And still the childless Father murmurs "Son!" + Ice-cold—ice-cold, in that white shroud he lies— + Thy sweet and golden dreams all vanished there— + The sweet and golden name of "Father" dies + Into thy curse,—ice-cold—ice-cold—he lies! + Dead, what thy life's delight and Eden were! + + Mild, as when, fresh from the arms of Aurora, + While the air like Elysium is smiling above, + Steeped in rose-breathing odors, the darling of Flora + Wantons over the blooms on his winglets of love. + So gay, o'er the meads, went his footsteps in bliss, + The silver wave mirrored the smile of his face; + Delight, like a flame, kindled up at his kiss, + And the heart of the maid was the prey of his chase. + + Boldly he sprang to the strife of the world, + As a deer to the mountain-top carelessly springs; + As an eagle whose plumes to the sun are unfurled, + Swept his hope round the heaven on its limitless wings. + Proud as a war-horse that chafes at the rein, + That, kingly, exults in the storm of the brave; + That throws to the wind the wild stream of its mane, + Strode he forth by the prince and the slave! + + Life like a spring day, serene and divine, + In the star of the morning went by as a trance; + His murmurs he drowned in the gold of the wine, + And his sorrows were borne on the wave of the dance. + + Worlds lay concealed in the hopes of his youth!— + When once he shall ripen to manhood and fame! + Fond father exult!—In the germs of his youth + What harvests are destined for manhood and fame! + + Not to be was that manhood!—The death-bell is knelling, + The hinge of the death-vault creaks harsh on the ears— + How dismal, O Death, is the place of thy dwelling! + Not to be was that manhood!—Flow on, bitter tears! + Go, beloved, thy path to the sun, + Rise, world upon world, with the perfect to rest; + Go—quaff the delight which thy spirit has won, + And escape from our grief in the Halls of the Blest. + + Again (in that thought what a healing is found!) + To meet in the Eden to which thou art fled!— + Hark, the coffin sinks down with a dull, sullen sound, + And the ropes rattle over the sleep of the dead. + And we cling to each other!—O Grave, he is thine! + The eye tells the woe that is mute to the ears— + And we dare to resent what we grudge to resign, + Till the heart's sinful murmur is choked in its tears. + Pale at its ghastly noon, + Pauses above the death-still wood—the moon! + The night-sprite, sighing, through the dim air stirs: + The clouds descend in rain; + Mourning, the wan stars wane, + Flickering like dying lamps in sepulchres. + The dull clods swell into the sullen mound; + Earth, one look yet upon the prey we gave! + The grave locks up the treasure it has found; + Higher and higher swells the sullen mound— + Never gives back the grave! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + FANTASIE—TO LAURA. + + Name, my Laura, name the whirl-compelling + Bodies to unite in one blest whole— + Name, my Laura, name the wondrous magic + By which soul rejoins its kindred soul! + + See! it teaches yonder roving planets + Round the sun to fly in endless race; + And as children play around their mother, + Checkered circles round the orb to trace. + + Every rolling star, by thirst tormented, + Drinks with joy its bright and golden rain— + Drinks refreshment from its fiery chalice, + As the limbs are nourished by the brain. + + 'Tis through Love that atom pairs with atom, + In a harmony eternal, sure; + And 'tis Love that links the spheres together— + Through her only, systems can endure. + + Were she but effaced from Nature's clockwork, + Into dust would fly the mighty world; + O'er thy systems thou wouldst weep, great Newton, + When with giant force to chaos hurled! + + Blot the goddess from the spirit order, + It would sink in death, and ne'er arise. + Were love absent, spring would glad us never; + Were love absent, none their God would prize! + + What is that, which, when my Laura kisses, + Dyes my cheek with flames of purple hue, + Bids my bosom bound with swifter motion, + Like a fever wild my veins runs through? + + Every nerve from out its barriers rises, + O'er its banks, the blood begins to flow; + Body seeks to join itself to body, + Spirits kindle in one blissful glow. + + Powerful as in the dead creations + That eternal impulses obey, + O'er the web Arachne-like of Nature,— + Living Nature,—Love exerts her sway. + + Laura, see how joyousness embraces + E'en the overflow of sorrows wild! + How e'en rigid desperation kindles + On the loving breast of Hope so mild. + + Sisterly and blissful rapture softens + Gloomy Melancholy's fearful night, + And, deliver'd of its golden children, + Lo, the eye pours forth its radiance bright! + + Does not awful Sympathy rule over + E'en the realms that Evil calls its own? + For 'tis Hell our crimes are ever wooing, + While they bear a grudge 'gainst Heaven alone! + + Shame, Repentance, pair Eumenides-like, + Weave round sin their fearful serpent-coils: + While around the eagle-wings of Greatness + Treach'rous danger winds its dreaded toils. + + Ruin oft with Pride is wont to trifle, + Envy upon Fortune loves to cling; + On her brother, Death, with arms extended, + Lust, his sister, oft is wont to spring. + + On the wings of Love the future hastens + In the arms of ages past to lie; + And Saturnus, as he onward speeds him, + Long hath sought his bride—Eternity! + + Soon Saturnus will his bride discover,— + So the mighty oracle hath said; + Blazing worlds will turn to marriage torches + When Eternity with Time shall wed! + + Then a fairer, far more beauteous morning, + Laura, on our love shall also shine, + Long as their blest bridal-night enduring:— + So rejoice thee, Laura—Laura mine! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + TO LAURA AT THE HARPSICHORD. + + When o'er the chords thy fingers stray, + My spirit leaves its mortal clay, + A statue there I stand; + Thy spell controls e'en life and death, + As when the nerves a living breath + Receive by Love's command! <a href="#linknote-1" name="linknoteref-1" + id="linknoteref-1">1</a> + + More gently zephyr sighs along + To listen to thy magic song; + The systems formed by heavenly love + To sing forever as they move, + Pause in their endless-whirling round + To catch the rapture-teeming sound; + 'Tis for thy strains they worship thee,— + Thy look, enchantress, fetters me! + + From yonder chords fast-thronging come + Soul-breathing notes with rapturous speed, + As when from out their heavenly home + The new-born seraphim proceed; + The strains pour forth their magic might, + As glittering suns burst through the night, + When, by Creation's storm awoke, + From chaos' giant-arm they broke. + + Now sweet, as when the silv'ry wave + Delights the pebbly beach to lave; + And now majestic as the sound + Of rolling thunder gathering round; + Now pealing more loudly, as when from yon height + Descends the mad mountain-stream, foaming and bright; + Now in a song of love + Dying away, + As through the aspen grove + Soft zephyrs play: + Now heavier and more mournful seems the strain, + As when across the desert, death-like plain, + Whence whispers dread and yells despairing rise, + Cocytus' sluggish, wailing current sighs. + + Maiden fair, oh, answer me! + Are not spirits leagued with thee? + Speak they in the realms of bliss + Other language e'er than this? +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + GROUP FROM TARTARUS. + + Hark! like the sea in wrath the heavens assailing, + Or like a brook through rocky basin wailing, + Comes from below, in groaning agony, + A heavy, vacant torment-breathing sigh! + Their faces marks of bitter torture wear, + While from their lips burst curses of despair; + Their eyes are hollow, and full of woe, + And their looks with heartfelt anguish + Seek Cocytus' stream that runs wailing below, + For the bridge o'er its waters they languish. + + And they say to each other in accents of fear, + "Oh, when will the time of fulfilment appear?" + High over them boundless eternity quivers, + And the scythe of Saturnus all-ruthlessly, shivers! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + RAPTURE—TO LAURA. + + From earth I seem to wing my flight, + And sun myself in Heaven's pure light, + When thy sweet gaze meets mine + I dream I quaff ethereal dew, + When my own form I mirrored view + In those blue eyes divine! + + Blest notes from Paradise afar, + Or strains from some benignant star + Enchant my ravished ear: + My Muse feels then the shepherd's hour + When silvery tones of magic power + Escape those lips so dear! + + Young Loves around thee fan their wings— + Behind, the maddened fir-tree springs, + As when by Orpheus fired: + The poles whirl round with swifter motion, + When in the dance, like waves o'er Ocean, + Thy footsteps float untired! + + Thy look, if it but beam with love, + Could make the lifeless marble move, + And hearts in rocks enshrine: + My visions to reality + Will turn, if, Laura, in thine eye + I read—that thou art mine! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + TO LAURA. (THE MYSTERY OF REMINISCENCE.) <a href="#linknote-2" + name="linknoteref-2" id="linknoteref-2">2</a> + + Who and what gave to me the wish to woo thee— + Still, lip to lip, to cling for aye unto thee? + Who made thy glances to my soul the link— + Who bade me burn thy very breath to drink— + My life in thine to sink? + As from the conqueror's unresisted glaive, + Flies, without strife subdued, the ready slave— + So, when to life's unguarded fort, I see + Thy gaze draw near and near triumphantly— + Yields not my soul to thee? + Why from its lord doth thus my soul depart?— + Is it because its native home thou art? + Or were they brothers in the days of yore, + Twin-bound both souls, and in the link they bore + Sigh to be bound once more? + Were once our beings blent and intertwining, + And therefore still my heart for thine is pining? + Knew we the light of some extinguished sun— + The joys remote of some bright realm undone, + Where once our souls were ONE? + Yes, it is so!—And thou wert bound to me + In the long-vanish'd Eld eternally! + In the dark troubled tablets which enroll + The Past—my Muse beheld this blessed scroll— + "One with thy love my soul!" + Oh yes, I learned in awe, when gazing there, + How once one bright inseparate life we were, + How once, one glorious essence as a God, + Unmeasured space our chainless footsteps trod— + All Nature our abode! + Round us, in waters of delight, forever + Voluptuous flowed the heavenly Nectar river; + We were the master of the seal of things, + And where the sunshine bathed Truth's mountain-springs + Quivered our glancing wings. + Weep for the godlike life we lost afar— + Weep!—thou and I its scattered fragments are; + And still the unconquered yearning we retain— + Sigh to restore the rapture and the reign, + And grow divine again. + And therefore came to me the wish to woo thee— + Still, lip to lip, to cling for aye unto thee; + This made thy glances to my soul the link— + This made me burn thy very breath to drink— + My life in thine to sink; + And therefore, as before the conqueror's glaive, + Flies, without strife subdued, the ready slave, + So, when to life's unguarded fort, I see + Thy gaze draw near and near triumphantly— + Yieldeth my soul to thee! + Therefore my soul doth from its lord depart, + Because, beloved, its native home thou art; + Because the twins recall the links they bore, + And soul with soul, in the sweet kiss of yore, + Meets and unites once more! + Thou, too—Ah, there thy gaze upon me dwells, + And thy young blush the tender answer tells; + Yes! with the dear relation still we thrill, + Both lives—though exiles from the homeward hill— + One life—all glowing still! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + MELANCHOLY—TO LAURA. + + Laura! a sunrise seems to break + Where'er thy happy looks may glow. + Joy sheds its roses o'er thy cheek, + Thy tears themselves do but bespeak + The rapture whence they flow; + Blest youth to whom those tears are given— + The tears that change his earth to heaven; + His best reward those melting eyes— + For him new suns are in the skies! + + Thy soul—a crystal river passing, + Silver-clear, and sunbeam-glassing, + Mays into bloom sad Autumn by thee; + Night and desert, if they spy thee, + To gardens laugh—with daylight shine, + Lit by those happy smiles of thine! + Dark with cloud the future far + Goldens itself beneath thy star. + Smilest thou to see the harmony + Of charm the laws of Nature keep? + Alas! to me the harmony + Brings only cause to weep! + + Holds not Hades its domain + Underneath this earth of ours? + Under palace, under fame, + Underneath the cloud-capped towers? + Stately cities soar and spread + O'er your mouldering bones, ye dead! + From corruption, from decay, + Springs yon clove-pink's fragrant bloom; + Yon gay waters wind their way + From the hollows of a tomb. + + From the planets thou mayest know + All the change that shifts below, + Fled—beneath that zone of rays, + Fled to night a thousand Mays; + Thrones a thousand—rising—sinking, + Earth from thousand slaughters drinking + Blood profusely poured as water;— + Of the sceptre—of the slaughter— + Wouldst thou know what trace remaineth? + Seek them where the dark king reigneth! + + Scarce thine eye can ope and close + Ere life's dying sunset glows; + Sinking sudden from its pride + Into death—the Lethe tide. + Ask'st thou whence thy beauties rise? + Boastest thou those radiant eyes?— + Or that cheek in roses dyed? + All their beauty (thought of sorrow!) + From the brittle mould they borrow. + Heavy interest in the tomb + For the brief loan of the bloom, + For the beauty of the day, + Death the usurer, thou must pay, + In the long to-morrow! + + Maiden!—Death's too strong for scorn; + In the cheek the fairest, He + But the fairest throne doth see + Though the roses of the morn + Weave the veil by beauty worn— + Aye, beneath that broidered curtain, + Stands the Archer stern and certain! + Maid—thy Visionary hear— + Trust the wild one as the sear, + When he tells thee that thine eye, + While it beckons to the wooer, + Only lureth yet more nigh + Death, the dark undoer! + + Every ray shed from thy beauty + Wastes the life-lamp while it beams, + And the pulse's playful duty, + And the blue veins' merry streams, + Sport and run into the pall— + Creatures of the Tyrant, all! + As the wind the rainbow shatters, + Death thy bright smiles rends and scatters, + Smile and rainbow leave no traces;— + From the spring-time's laughing graces, + From all life, as from its germ, + Grows the revel of the worm! + + Woe, I see the wild wind wreak + Its wrath upon thy rosy bloom, + Winter plough thy rounded cheek, + Cloud and darkness close in gloom; + Blackening over, and forever, + Youth's serene and silver river! + Love alike and beauty o'er, + Lovely and beloved no more! + + Maiden, an oak that soars on high, + And scorns the whirlwind's breath + Behold thy Poet's youth defy + The blunted dart of Death! + His gaze as ardent as the light + That shoots athwart the heaven, + His soul yet fiercer than the light + In the eternal heaven, + Of Him, in whom as in an ocean-surge + Creation ebbs and flows—and worlds arise and merge! + Through Nature steers the poet's thought to find + No fear but this—one barrier to the mind? + + And dost thou glory so to think? + And heaves thy bosom?—Woe! + This cup, which lures him to the brink, + As if divinity to drink— + Has poison in its flow! + Wretched, oh, wretched, they who trust + To strike the God-spark from the dust! + The mightiest tone the music knows, + But breaks the harp-string with the sound; + And genius, still the more it glows, + But wastes the lamp whose life bestows + The light it sheds around. + Soon from existence dragged away, + The watchful jailer grasps his prey: + Vowed on the altar of the abused fire, + The spirits I raised against myself conspire! + Let—yes, I feel it two short springs away + Pass on their rapid flight; + And life's faint spark shall, fleeting from the clay, + Merge in the Fount of Light! + + And weep'st thou, Laura?—be thy tears forbid; + Would'st thou my lot, life's dreariest years amid, + Protract and doom?—No: sinner, dry thy tears: + Would'st thou, whose eyes beheld the eagle wing + Of my bold youth through air's dominion spring, + Mark my sad age (life's tale of glory done)— + Crawl on the sod and tremble in the sun? + Hear the dull frozen heart condemn the flame + That as from heaven to youth's blithe bosom came; + And see the blind eyes loathing turn from all + The lovely sins age curses to recall? + Let me die young!—sweet sinner, dry thy tears! + Yes, let the flower be gathered in its bloom! + And thou, young genius, with the brows of gloom, + Quench thou life's torch, while yet the flame is strong! + Even as the curtain falls; while still the scene + Most thrills the hearts which have its audience been; + As fleet the shadows from the stage—and long + When all is o'er, lingers the breathless throng! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + THE INFANTICIDE. + + Hark where the bells toll, chiming, dull and steady, + The clock's slow hand hath reached the appointed time. + Well, be it so—prepare, my soul is ready, + Companions of the grave—the rest for crime! + Now take, O world! my last farewell—receiving + My parting kisses—in these tears they dwell! + Sweet are thy poisons while we taste believing, + Now we are quits—heart-poisoner, fare-thee-well! + + Farewell, ye suns that once to joy invited, + Changed for the mould beneath the funeral shade; + Farewell, farewell, thou rosy time delighted, + Luring to soft desire the careless maid, + Pale gossamers of gold, farewell, sweet dreaming + Fancies—the children that an Eden bore! + Blossoms that died while dawn itself was gleaming, + Opening in happy sunlight never more. + + Swanlike the robe which innocence bestowing, + Decked with the virgin favors, rosy fair, + In the gay time when many a young rose glowing, + Blushed through the loose train of the amber hair. + Woe, woe! as white the robe that decks me now— + The shroud-like robe hell's destined victim wears; + Still shall the fillet bind this burning brow— + That sable braid the Doomsman's hand prepares! + + Weep ye, who never fell-for whom, unerring, + The soul's white lilies keep their virgin hue, + Ye who when thoughts so danger-sweet are stirring, + Take the stern strength that Nature gives the few! + Woe, for too human was this fond heart's feeling— + Feeling!—my sin's avenger <a href="#linknote-3" name="linknoteref-3" + id="linknoteref-3">3</a> doomed to be; + Woe—for the false man's arm around me stealing, + Stole the lulled virtue, charmed to sleep, from me. + + Ah, he perhaps shall, round another sighing + (Forgot the serpents stinging at my breast), + Gayly, when I in the dumb grave am lying, + Pour the warm wish or speed the wanton jest, + Or play, perchance, with his new maiden's tresses, + Answer the kiss her lip enamored brings, + When the dread block the head he cradled presses, + And high the blood his kiss once fevered springs. + + Thee, Francis, Francis <a href="#linknote-4" name="linknoteref-4" + id="linknoteref-4">4</a>, league on league, shall follow + The death-dirge of the Lucy once so dear; + From yonder steeple dismal, dull, and hollow, + Shall knell the warning horror on thy ear. + On thy fresh leman's lips when love is dawning, + And the lisped music glides from that sweet well— + Lo, in that breast a red wound shall be yawning, + And, in the midst of rapture, warn of hell! + + Betrayer, what! thy soul relentless closing + To grief—the woman-shame no art can heal— + To that small life beneath my heart reposing! + Man, man, the wild beast for its young can feel! + Proud flew the sails—receding from the land, + I watched them waning from the wistful eye, + Round the gay maids on Seine's voluptuous strand, + Breathes the false incense of his fatal sigh. + + And there the babe! there, on the mother's bosom, + Lulled in its sweet and golden rest it lay, + Fresh in life's morning as a rosy blossom, + It smiled, poor harmless one, my tears away. + Deathlike yet lovely, every feature speaking + In such dear calm and beauty to my sadness, + And cradled still the mother's heart, in breaking, + The softening love and the despairing madness. + + "Woman, where is my father?" freezing through me, + Lisped the mute innocence with thunder-sound; + "Woman, where is thy husband?"—called unto me, + In every look, word, whisper, busying round! + Alas, for thee, there is no father's kiss;— + He fondleth other children on his knee. + How thou wilt curse our momentary bliss, + When bastard on thy name shall branded be! + + Thy mother—oh, a hell her heart concealeth, + Lone-sitting, lone in social nature's all! + Thirsting for that glad fount thy love revealeth, + While still thy look the glad fount turns to gall. + In every infant cry my soul is hearkening, + The haunting happiness forever o'er, + And all the bitterness of death is darkening + The heavenly looks that smiled mine eyes before. + + Hell, if my sight those looks a moment misses— + Hell, when my sight upon those looks is turned— + The avenging furies madden in thy kisses, + That slept in his what time my lips they burned. + Out from their graves his oaths spoke back in thunder! + The perjury stalked like murder in the sun— + Forever—God!—sense, reason, soul, sunk under— + The deed was done! + + Francis, O Francis! league on league shall chase thee + The shadows hurrying grimly on thy flight— + Still with their icy arms they shall embrace thee, + And mutter thunder in thy dream's delight! + + Down from the soft stars, in their tranquil glory, + Shall look thy dead child with a ghastly stare; + That shape shall haunt thee in its cerements gory, + And scourge thee back from heaven—its home is there! + + Lifeless—how lifeless!—see, oh see, before me + It lies cold—stiff—O God!—and with that blood + I feel, as swoops the dizzy darkness o'er me + Mine own life mingled—ebbing in the flood— + + Hark, at the door they knock—more loud within me— + More awful still—its sound the dread heart gave! + Gladly I welcome the cold arms that win me— + Fire, quench thy tortures in the icy grave! + + Francis—a God that pardons dwells in heaven— + Francis, the sinner—yes—she pardons thee— + So let my wrongs unto the earth be given + Flame seize the wood!—it burns—it kindles—see! + There—there his letters cast—behold are ashes— + His vows—the conquering fire consumes them here + His kisses—see—see—all are only ashes— + All, all—the all that once on earth were dear! + + Trust not the roses which your youth enjoyeth, + Sisters, to man's faith, changeful as the moon! + Beauty to me brought guilt—its bloom destroyeth + Lo, in the judgment court I curse the boon + Tears in the headsman's gaze—what tears?—'tis spoken! + Quick, bind mine eyes—all soon shall be forgot— + Doomsman—the lily hast thou never broken? + Pale Doomsman—tremble not! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + THE GREATNESS OF THE WORLD. + + Through the world which the Spirit creative and kind + First formed out of chaos, I fly like the wind, + Until on the strand + Of its billows I land, + My anchor cast forth where the breeze blows no more, + And Creation's last boundary stands on the shore. + I saw infant stars into being arise, + For thousands of years to roll on through the skies; + I saw them in play + Seek their goal far away,— + For a moment my fugitive gaze wandered on,— + I looked round me, and lo!—all those bright stars had flown! + + Madly yearning to reach the dark kingdom of night. + I boldly steer on with the speed of the light; + All misty and drear + The dim heavens appear, + While embryo systems and seas at their source + Are whirling around the sun-wanderer's course. + + When sudden a pilgrim I see drawing near + Along the lone path,—"Stay! What seekest thou here?" + "My bark, tempest-tossed, + I sail toward the land where the breeze blows no more, + And Creation's last boundary stands on the shore." + + "Stay, thou sailest in vain! 'Tis INFINITY yonder!"— + "'Tis INFINITY, too, where thou, pilgrim, wouldst wander! + Eagle-thoughts that aspire, + Let your proud pinions tire! + For 'tis here that sweet phantasy, bold to the last, + Her anchor in hopeless dejection must cast!" +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + FORTUNE AND WISDOM. + + Enraged against a quondam friend, + To Wisdom once proud Fortune said + "I'll give thee treasures without end, + If thou wilt be my friend instead." + + "My choicest gifts to him I gave, + And ever blest him with my smile; + And yet he ceases not to crave, + And calls me niggard all the while." + + "Come, sister, let us friendship vow! + So take the money, nothing loth; + Why always labor at the plough? + Here is enough I'm sure for both!" + + Sage wisdom laughed,—the prudent elf!— + And wiped her brow, with moisture hot: + "There runs thy friend to hang himself,— + Be reconciled—I need thee not!" +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG MAN. <a href="#linknote-5" name="linknoteref-5" + id="linknoteref-5">5</a> + + Mournful groans, as when a tempest lowers, + Echo from the dreary house of woe; + Death-notes rise from yonder minster's towers! + Bearing out a youth, they slowly go; + Yes! a youth—unripe yet for the bier, + Gathered in the spring-time of his days, + Thrilling yet with pulses strong and clear, + With the flame that in his bright eye plays— + Yes, a son—the idol of his mother, + (Oh, her mournful sigh shows that too well!) + Yes! my bosom-friend,—alas my brother!— + Up! each man the sad procession swell! + + Do ye boast, ye pines, so gray and old, + Storms to brave, with thunderbolts to sport? + And, ye hills, that ye the heavens uphold? + And, ye heavens, that ye the suns support! + Boasts the graybeard, who on haughty deeds + As on billows, seeks perfection's height? + Boasts the hero, whom his prowess leads + Up to future glory's temple bright! + If the gnawing worms the floweret blast, + Who can madly think he'll ne'er decay? + Who above, below, can hope to last, + If the young man's life thus fleets away? + + Joyously his days of youth so glad + Danced along, in rosy garb beclad, + And the world, the world was then so sweet! + And how kindly, how enchantingly + Smiled the future,—with what golden eye + Did life's paradise his moments greet! + While the tear his mother's eye escaped, + Under him the realm of shadows gaped + And the fates his thread began to sever,— + Earth and Heaven then vanished from his sight. + From the grave-thought shrank he in affright— + Sweet the world is to the dying ever! + + Dumb and deaf 'tis in that narrow place, + Deep the slumbers of the buried one! + Brother! Ah, in ever-slackening race + All thy hopes their circuit cease to run! + Sunbeams oft thy native hill still lave, + But their glow thou never more canst feel; + O'er its flowers the zephyr's pinions wave, + O'er thine ear its murmur ne'er can steal; + Love will never tinge thine eye with gold, + Never wilt thou embrace thy blooming bride, + Not e'en though our tears in torrents rolled— + Death must now thine eye forever hide! + + Yet 'tis well!—for precious is the rest, + In that narrow house the sleep is calm; + There, with rapture sorrow leaves the breast,— + Man's afflictions there no longer harm. + Slander now may wildly rave o'er thee, + And temptation vomit poison fell, + O'er the wrangle on the Pharisee, + Murderous bigots banish thee to hell! + Rogues beneath apostle-masks may leer, + And the bastard child of justice play, + As it were with dice, with mankind here, + And so on, until the judgment day! + + O'er thee fortune still may juggle on, + For her minions blindly look around,— + Man now totter on his staggering throne, + And in dreary puddles now be found! + Blest art thou, within thy narrow cell! + To this stir of tragi-comedy, + To these fortune-waves that madly swell, + To this vain and childish lottery, + To this busy crowd effecting naught, + To this rest with labor teeming o'er, + Brother!—to this heaven with devils—fraught, + Now thine eyes have closed forevermore. + + Fare thee well, oh, thou to memory dear, + By our blessings lulled to slumbers sweet! + Sleep on calmly in thy prison drear,— + Sleep on calmly till again we meet! + Till the loud Almighty trumpet sounds, + Echoing through these corpse-encumbered hills, + Till God's storm-wind, bursting through the bounds + Placed by death, with life those corpses fills— + Till, impregnate with Jehovah's blast, + Graves bring forth, and at His menace dread, + In the smoke of planets melting fast, + Once again the tombs give up their dead! + + Not in worlds, as dreamed of by the wise, + Not in heavens, as sung in poet's song, + Not in e'en the people's paradise— + Yet we shall o'ertake thee, and ere long. + Is that true which cheered the pilgrim's gloom? + Is it true that thoughts can yonder be + True, that virtue guides us o'er the tomb? + That 'tis more than empty phantasy? + All these riddles are to thee unveiled! + Truth thy soul ecstatic now drinks up, + Truth in radiance thousandfold exhaled + From the mighty Father's blissful cup. + + Dark and silent bearers draw, then, nigh! + To the slayer serve the feast the while! + Cease, ye mourners, cease your wailing cry! + Dust on dust upon the body pile! + Where's the man who God to tempt presumes? + Where the eye that through the gulf can see? + Holy, holy, holy art thou, God of tombs! + We, with awful trembling, worship Thee! + Dust may back to native dust be ground, + From its crumbling house the spirit fly, + And the storm its ashes strew around,— + But its love, its love shall never die! +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="4pa032 (121K)" src="images/4pa032.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + THE BATTLE. + + Heavy and solemn, + A cloudy column, + Through the green plain they marching came! + Measure less spread, like a table dread, + For the wild grim dice of the iron game. + The looks are bent on the shaking ground, + And the heart beats loud with a knelling sound; + Swift by the breasts that must bear the brunt, + Gallops the major along the front— + "Halt!" + And fettered they stand at the stark command, + And the warriors, silent, halt! + + Proud in the blush of morning glowing, + What on the hill-top shines in flowing, + "See you the foeman's banners waving?" + "We see the foeman's banners waving!" + "God be with ye—children and wife!" + Hark to the music—the trump and the fife, + How they ring through the ranks which they rouse to the strife! + Thrilling they sound with their glorious tone, + Thrilling they go through the marrow and bone! + Brothers, God grant when this life is o'er, + In the life to come that we meet once more! + + See the smoke how the lightning is cleaving asunder! + Hark the guns, peal on peal, how they boom in their thunder! + From host to host, with kindling sound, + The shouting signal circles round, + Ay, shout it forth to life or death— + Freer already breathes the breath! + The war is waging, slaughter raging, + And heavy through the reeking pall, + The iron death-dice fall! + Nearer they close—foes upon foes + "Ready!"—From square to square it goes, + Down on the knee they sank, + And fire comes sharp from the foremost rank. + Many a man to the earth it sent, + Many a gap by the balls is rent— + O'er the corpse before springs the hinder man, + That the line may not fail to the fearless van, + To the right, to the left, and around and around, + Death whirls in its dance on the bloody ground. + God's sunlight is quenched in the fiery fight, + Over the hosts falls a brooding night! + Brothers, God grant when this life is o'er + In the life to come that we meet once more! + + The dead men lie bathed in the weltering blood + And the living are blent in the slippery flood, + And the feet, as they reeling and sliding go, + Stumble still on the corpses that sleep below. + "What, Francis!" "Give Charlotte my last farewell." + As the dying man murmurs, the thunders swell— + "I'll give—Oh God! are their guns so near? + Ho! comrades!—yon volley!—look sharp to the rear!— + I'll give thy Charlotte thy last farewell, + Sleep soft! where death thickest descendeth in rain, + The friend thou forsakest thy side shall regain!" + Hitherward—thitherward reels the fight, + Dark and more darkly day glooms into night— + Brothers, God grant when this life is o'er + In the life to come that we meet once more! + + Hark to the hoofs that galloping go! + The adjutant flying,— + The horsemen press hard on the panting foe, + Their thunder booms in dying— + Victory! + The terror has seized on the dastards all, + And their colors fall! + Victory! + Closed is the brunt of the glorious fight + And the day, like a conqueror, bursts on the night, + Trumpet and fife swelling choral along, + The triumph already sweeps marching in song. + Farewell, fallen brothers, though this life be o'er, + There's another, in which we shall meet you once more! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + ROUSSEAU. + + Monument of our own age's shame, + On thy country casting endless blame, + Rousseau's grave, how dear thou art to me + Calm repose be to thy ashes blest! + In thy life thou vainly sought'st for rest, + But at length 'twas here obtained by thee! + + When will ancient wounds be covered o'er? + Wise men died in heathen days of yore; + Now 'tis lighter—yet they die again. + Socrates was killed by sophists vile, + Rousseau meets his death through Christians' wile,— + Rousseau—who would fain make Christians men! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + FRIENDSHIP. + + [From "Letters of Julius to Raphael," an unpublished Novel.] + + Friend!—the Great Ruler, easily content, + Needs not the laws it has laborious been + The task of small professors to invent; + A single wheel impels the whole machine + Matter and spirit;—yea, that simple law, + Pervading nature, which our Newton saw. + + This taught the spheres, slaves to one golden rein, + Their radiant labyrinths to weave around + Creation's mighty hearts: this made the chain, + Which into interwoven systems bound + All spirits streaming to the spiritual sun + As brooks that ever into ocean run! + + Did not the same strong mainspring urge and guide + Our hearts to meet in love's eternal bond? + Linked to thine arm, O Raphael, by thy side + Might I aspire to reach to souls beyond + Our earth, and bid the bright ambition go + To that perfection which the angels know! + + Happy, O happy—I have found thee—I + Have out of millions found thee, and embraced; + Thou, out of millions, mine!—Let earth and sky + Return to darkness, and the antique waste— + To chaos shocked, let warring atoms be, + Still shall each heart unto the other flee! + + Do I not find within thy radiant eyes + Fairer reflections of all joys most fair? + In thee I marvel at myself—the dyes + Of lovely earth seem lovelier painted there, + And in the bright looks of the friend is given + A heavenlier mirror even of the heaven! + + Sadness casts off its load, and gayly goes + From the intolerant storm to rest awhile, + In love's true heart, sure haven of repose; + Does not pain's veriest transports learn to smile + From that bright eloquence affection gave + To friendly looks?—there, finds not pain a grave? + + In all creation did I stand alone, + Still to the rocks my dreams a soul should find, + Mine arms should wreathe themselves around the stone, + My griefs should feel a listener in the wind; + My joy—its echo in the caves should be! + Fool, if ye will—Fool, for sweet sympathy! + + We are dead groups of matter when we hate; + But when we love we are as gods!—Unto + The gentle fetters yearning, through each state + And shade of being multiform, and through + All countless spirits (save of all the sire)— + Moves, breathes, and blends, the one divine desire. + + Lo! arm in arm, through every upward grade, + From the rude mongrel to the starry Greek, + Who the fine link between the mortal made, + And heaven's last seraph—everywhere we seek + Union and bond—till in one sea sublime + Of love be merged all measure and all time! + + Friendless ruled God His solitary sky; + He felt the want, and therefore souls were made, + The blessed mirrors of his bliss!—His eye + No equal in His loftiest works surveyed; + And from the source whence souls are quickened, He + Called His companion forth—ETERNITY! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + ELYSIUM. + + Past the despairing wail— + And the bright banquets of the Elysian vale + Melt every care away! + Delight, that breathes and moves forever, + Glides through sweet fields like some sweet river! + Elysian life survey! + There, fresh with youth, o'er jocund meads, + His merry west-winds blithely leads + The ever-blooming May! + Through gold-woven dreams goes the dance of the hours, + In space without bounds swell the soul and its powers, + And truth, with no veil, gives her face to the day. + And joy to-day and joy to-morrow, + But wafts the airy soul aloft; + The very name is lost to sorrow, + And pain is rapture tuned more exquisitely soft. + + Here the pilgrim reposes the world-weary limb, + And forgets in the shadow, cool-breathing and dim, + The load he shall bear never more; + Here the mower, his sickle at rest, by the streams, + Lulled with harp-strings, reviews, in the calm of his dreams, + The fields, when the harvest is o'er. + Here, he, whose ears drank in the battle roar, + Whose banners streamed upon the startled wind + A thunder-storm,—before whose thunder tread + The mountains trembled,—in soft sleep reclined, + By the sweet brook that o'er its pebbly bed + In silver plays, and murmurs to the shore, + Hears the stern clangor of wild spears no more! + Here the true spouse the lost-beloved regains, + And on the enamelled couch of summer-plains + Mingles sweet kisses with the zephyr's breath. + Here, crowned at last, love never knows decay, + Living through ages its one bridal day, + Safe from the stroke of death! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + THE FUGITIVE. + + The air is perfumed with the morning's fresh breeze, + From the bush peer the sunbeams all purple and bright, + While they gleam through the clefts of the dark-waving trees, + And the cloud-crested mountains are golden with light. + + With joyful, melodious, ravishing, strain, + The lark, as he wakens, salutes the glad sun, + Who glows in the arms of Aurora again, + And blissfully smiling, his race 'gins to run. + + All hail, light of day! + Thy sweet gushing ray + Pours down its soft warmth over pasture and field; + With hues silver-tinged + The meadows are fringed, + And numberless suns in the dewdrop revealed. + + Young Nature invades + The whispering shades, + Displaying each ravishing charm; + The soft zephyr blows, + And kisses the rose, + The plain is sweet-scented with balm. + + How high from yon city the smoke-clouds ascend! + Their neighing, and snorting, and bellowing blend + The horses and cattle; + The chariot-wheels rattle, + As down to the valley they take their mad way; + And even the forest where life seems to move, + The eagle, and falcon, and hawk soar above, + And flutter their pinions, in heaven's bright ray. + + In search of repose + From my heart-rending woes, + Oh, where shall my sad spirit flee? + The earth's smiling face, + With its sweet youthful grace, + A tomb must, alas, be for me! + + Arise, then, thou sunlight of morning, and fling + O'er plain and o'er forest thy purple-dyed beams! + Thou twilight of evening, all noiselessly sing + In melody soft to the world as it dreams! + + Ah, sunlight of morning, to me thou but flingest + Thy purple-dyed beams o'er the grave of the past! + Ah, twilight of evening, thy strains thou but singest + To one whose deep slumbers forever must last! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + TO MINNA. + + Do I dream? can I trust to my eye? + My sight sure some vapor must cover? + Or, there, did my Minna pass by— + My Minna—and knew not her lover? + On the arm of the coxcomb she crossed, + Well the fan might its zephyr bestow; + Herself in her vanity lost, + That wanton my Minna?—Ah, no! + + In the gifts of my love she was dressed, + My plumes o'er her summer hat quiver; + The ribbons that flaunt in her breast + Might bid her—remember the giver! + And still do they bloom on thy bosom, + The flowerets I gathered for thee! + Still as fresh is the leaf of each blossom, + 'Tis the heart that has faded from me! + + Go and take, then, the incense they tender; + Go, the one that adored thee forget! + Go, thy charms to the feigner surrender, + In my scorn is my comforter yet! + Go, for thee with what trust and belief + There beat not ignobly a heart + That has strength yet to strive with the grief + To have worshipped the trifler thou art! + + Thy beauty thy heart hath betrayed— + Thy beauty—shame, Minna, to thee! + To-morrow its glory will fade, + And its roses all withered will be! + The swallows that swarm in the sun + Will fly when the north winds awaken, + The false ones thine autumn will shun, + For whom thou the true hast forsaken! + + 'Mid the wrecks of the charms in December, + I see thee alone in decay, + And each spring shall but bid thee remember + How brief for thyself was the May! + Then they who so wantonly flock + To the rapture thy kiss can impart, + Shall scoff at thy winter, and mock + Thy beauty as wrecked as thy heart! + + Thy beauty thy heart hath betrayed— + Thy beauty—shame, Minna, to thee + To-morrow its glory will fade— + And its roses all withered will be! + O, what scorn for thy desolate years + Shall I feel!—God forbid it in me! + How bitter will then be the tears + Shed, Minna, O Minna, for thee! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + THE FLOWERS. + + Ye offspring of the morning sun, + Ye flowers that deck the smiling plain, + Your lives, in joy and bliss begun, + In Nature's love unchanged remain. + With hues of bright and godlike splendor + Sweet Flora graced your forms so tender, + And clothed ye in a garb of light; + Spring's lovely children weep forever, + For living souls she gave ye never, + And ye must dwell in endless night? + + The nightingale and lark still sing + In your tranced ears the bliss of love; + The toying sylphs, on airy wing, + Around your fragrant bosoms rove, + Of yore, Dione's daughter <a href="#linknote-6" name="linknoteref-6" + id="linknoteref-6">6</a> twining + In garlands sweet your cup-so shining, + A pillow formed where love might rest! + Spring's gentle children, mourn forever, + The joys of love she gave ye never, + Ne'er let ye know that feeling blest! + + But when ye're gathered by my hand, + A token of my love to be, + Now that her mother's harsh command + From Nanny's <a href="#linknote-7" name="linknoteref-7" id="linknoteref-7">7</a> sight has banished me— + E'en from that passing touch ye borrow + Those heralds mute of pleasing sorrow, + Life, language, hearts and souls divine; + And to your silent leaves 'tis given, + By Him who mightiest is in heaven, + His glorious Godhead to enshrine. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE. + + A HYMN. + + By love are blest the gods on high, + Frail man becomes a deity + When love to him is given; + 'Tis love that makes the heavens shine + With hues more radiant, more divine, + And turns dull earth to heaven! + + In Pyrrha's rear (so poets sang + In ages past and gone), + The world from rocky fragments sprang— + Mankind from lifeless stone. + + Their soul was but a thing of night, + Like stone and rock their heart; + The flaming torch of heaven so bright + Its glow could ne'er impart. + + Young loves, all gently hovering round, + Their souls as yet had never bound + In soft and rosy chains; + No feeling muse had sought to raise + Their bosoms with ennobling lays, + Or sweet, harmonious strains. + + Around each other lovingly + No garlands then entwined; + The sorrowing springs fled toward the sky, + And left the earth behind. + + From out the sea Aurora rose + With none to hail her then; + The sun unhailed, at daylight's close, + In ocean sank again. + + In forests wild, man went astray, + Misled by Luna's cloudy ray— + He bore an iron yoke; + He pined not for the stars on high, + With yearning for a deity + No tears in torrents broke. + + . . . . . + + But see! from out the deep-blue ocean + Fair Venus springs with gentle motion + The graceful Naiad's smiling band + Conveys her to the gladdened strand, + + A May-like, youthful, magic power + Entwines, like morning's twilight hour, + Around that form of godlike birth, + The charms of air, sea, heaven, and earth. + + The day's sweet eye begins to bloom + Across the forest's midnight gloom; + Narcissuses, their balm distilling, + The path her footstep treads are filling. + + A song of love, sweet Philomel, + Soon carolled through the grove; + The streamlet, as it murmuring fell, + Discoursed of naught but love, + + Pygmalion! Happy one! Behold! + Life's glow pervades thy marble cold! + Oh, LOVE, thou conqueror all-divine, + Embrace each happy child of thine! + + . . . . . + + By love are blest the gods on high,— + Frail man becomes a deity + When love to him is given; + 'Tis love that makes the heavens shine + With hues more radiant, more divine, + And turns dull earth to heaven! + + . . . . . + + The gods their days forever spend + In banquets bright that have no end, + In one voluptuous morning-dream, + And quaff the nectar's golden stream. + + Enthroned in awful majesty + Kronion wields the bolt on high: + In abject fear Olympus rocks + When wrathfully he shakes his locks. + + To other gods he leaves his throne, + And fills, disguised as earth's frail son, + The grove with mournful numbers; + The thunders rest beneath his feet, + And lulled by Leda's kisses sweet, + The Giant-Slayer slumbers. + + Through the boundless realms of light + Phoebus' golden reins, so bright, + Guide his horses white as snow, + While his darts lay nations low. + But when love and harmony + Fill his breast, how willingly + Ceases Phoebus then to heed + Rattling dart and snow-white steed! + + See! Before Kronion's spouse + Every great immortal bows; + Proudly soar the peacock pair + As her chariot throne they bear, + While she decks with crown of might + Her ambrosial tresses bright, + + Beauteous princess, ah! with fear + Quakes before thy splendor, love, + Seeking, as he ventures near, + With his power thy breast to move! + Soon from her immortal throne + Heaven's great queen must fain descend, + And in prayer for beauty's zone, + To the heart-enchainer bend! + + . . . . . + + By love are blest the gods on high, + Frail man becomes a deity + When love to him is given; + 'Tis love that makes the heavens shine + With hues more radiant, more divine, + And turns dull earth to heaven! + + . . . . . + + 'Tis love illumes the realms of night, + For Orcus dark obeys his might, + And bows before his magic spell + All-kindly looks the king of hell + At Ceres' daughter's smile so bright,— + Yes—love illumes the realms of night! + + In hell were heard, with heavenly sound, + Holding in chains its warder bound, + Thy lays, O Thracian one! + A gentler doom dread Minos passed, + While down his cheeks the tears coursed fast + And e'en around Megaera's face + The serpents twined in fond embrace, + The lashes' work seemed done. + + Driven by Orpheus' lyre away, + The vulture left his giant-prey <a href="#linknote-8" name="linknoteref-8" + id="linknoteref-8">8</a>; + With gentler motion rolled along + Dark Lethe and Cocytus' river, + Enraptured Thracian, by thy song,— + And love its burden was forever! + + By love are blest the gods on high, + Frail man becomes a deity + When love to him is given; + 'Tis love that makes the heavens shine + With hues more radiant, more divine, + And turns dull earth to heaven! + + . . . . . + + Wherever Nature's sway extends, + The fragrant balm of love descends, + His golden pinions quiver; + If 'twere not Venus' eye that gleams + Upon me in the moon's soft beams, + In sunlit hill or river,— + If 'twere not Venus smiles on me + From yonder bright and starry sea, + + Not stars, not sun, not moonbeams sweet, + Could make my heart with rapture beat. + 'Tis love alone that smilingly + Peers forth from Nature's blissful eye, + As from a mirror ever! + + Love bids the silvery streamlet roll + More gently as it sighs along, + And breathes a living, feeling soul + In Philomel's sweet plaintive song; + 'Tis love alone that fills the air + With streams from Nature's lute so fair. + + Thou wisdom with the glance of fire, + Thou mighty goddess, now retire, + Love's power thou now must feel! + To victor proud, to monarch high, + Thou ne'er hast knelt in slavery,— + To love thou now must kneel! + + Who taught thee boldly how to climb + The steep, but starry path sublime, + And reach the seats immortal? + Who rent the mystic veil in twain, + And showed thee the Elysian plain + Beyond death's gloomy portal? + If love had beckoned not from high, + Had we gained immortality? + If love had not inflamed each thought, + Had we the master spirit sought? + 'Tis love that guides the soul along + To Nature's Father's heavenly throne + + By love are blest the gods on high, + Frail man becomes a deity + When love to him is given; + 'Tis love that makes the heavens shine + With hues more radiant, more divine, + And turns dull earth to heaven! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + TO A MORALIST. + + Are the sports of our youth so displeasing? + Is love but the folly you say? + Benumbed with the winter, and freezing, + You scold at the revels of May. + + For you once a nymph had her charms, + And Oh! when the waltz you were wreathing, + All Olympus embraced in your arms— + All its nectar in Julia's breathing. + + If Jove at that moment had hurled + The earth in some other rotation, + Along with your Julia whirled, + You had felt not the shock of creation. + + Learn this—that philosophy beats + Sure time with the pulse,—quick or slow + As the blood from the heyday retreats,— + But it cannot make gods of us—No! + + It is well icy reason should thaw + In the warm blood of mirth now and then, + The gods for themselves have a law + Which they never intended for men. + + The spirit is bound by the ties + Of its gaoler, the flesh;—if I can + Not reach as an angel the skies, + Let me feel on the earth as a man! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + COUNT EBERHARD, THE GROANER OF WURTEMBERG. + + A WAR SONG. + + Now hearken, ye who take delight + In boasting of your worth! + To many a man, to many a knight, + Beloved in peace and brave in fight, + The Swabian land gives birth. + + Of Charles and Edward, Louis, Guy, + And Frederick, ye may boast; + Charles, Edward, Louis, Frederick, Guy— + None with Sir Eberhard can vie— + Himself a mighty host! + + And then young Ulerick, his son, + Ha! how he loved the fray! + Young Ulerick, the Count's bold son, + When once the battle had begun, + No foot's-breadth e'er gave way. + + The Reutlingers, with gnashing teeth, + Saw our bright ranks revealed + And, panting for the victor's wreath, + They drew the sword from out the sheath, + And sought the battle-field. + + He charged the foe,—but fruitlessly,— + Then, mail-clad, homeward sped; + Stern anger filled his father's eye, + And made the youthful warrior fly, + And tears of anguish shed. + + Now, rascals, quake!—This grieved him sore, + And rankled in his brain; + And by his father's beard he swore, + With many a craven townsman's gore + To wash out this foul stain. + + Ere long the feud raged fierce and loud,— + Then hastened steed and man + To Doeffingen in thronging crowd, + While joy inspired the youngster proud,— + And soon the strife began. + + Our army's signal-word that day + Was the disastrous fight; + It spurred us on like lightning's ray, + And plunged us deep in bloody fray, + And in the spears' black night. + + The youthful Count his ponderous mace + With lion's rage swung round; + Destruction stalked before his face, + While groans and howlings filled the place + And hundreds bit the ground. + + Woe! Woe! A heavy sabre-stroke + Upon his neck descended; + The sight each warrior's pity woke— + In vain! In vain! No word he spoke— + His course on earth was ended. + + Loud wept both friend and foeman then, + Checked was the victor's glow; + The count cheered thus his knights again— + "My son is like all other men,— + March, children, 'gainst the foe!" + + With greater fury whizzed each lance, + Revenge inflamed the blood; + O'er corpses moved the fearful dance + The townsmen fled in random chance + O'er mountain, vale, and flood. + + Then back to camp, with trumpet's bray, + We hied in joyful haste; + And wife and child, with roundelay, + With clanging cup and waltzes gay, + Our glorious triumph graced. + + And our old Count,—what now does he? + His son lies dead before him; + Within his tent all woefully + He sits alone in agony, + And drops one hot tear o'er him. + + And so, with true affection warm, + The Count our lord we love; + Himself a mighty hero-swarm— + The thunders rest within his arm— + He shines like star above! + + Farewell, then, ye who take delight + In boasting of your worth! + To many a man, to many a knight, + Beloved in peace, and brave in fight, + The Swabian land gives birth! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + TO THE SPRING. + + Welcome, gentle Stripling, + Nature's darling thou! + With thy basket full of blossoms, + A happy welcome now! + Aha!—and thou returnest, + Heartily we greet thee— + The loving and the fair one, + Merrily we meet thee! + Think'st thou of my maiden + In thy heart of glee? + + I love her yet, the maiden— + And the maiden yet loves me! + For the maiden, many a blossom + I begged—and not in vain! + I came again a-begging, + And thou—thou givest again: + Welcome, gentle Stripling, + Nature's darling thou— + With thy basket full of blossoms, + A happy welcome now! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + SEMELE: + + IN TWO SCENES. + + Dramatis Personae. + + JUNO. + SEMELE, Princess of Thebes. + JUPITER. + MERCURY. + + SCENE—The Palace of Cadmus at Thebes. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + SCENE I. + + JUNO. (Descending from her chariot, enveloped in a cloud.) + Away, ye peacocks, with my winged car! + Upon Cithaeron's cloud-capped summit wait! + [The chariot and cloud vanish. + Hail, hail, thou house of my undying anger! + A fearful hail to thee, thou hostile roof, + Ye hated walls!—This, this, then, is the place + Where Jupiter pollutes his marriage-bed + Even before the face of modest day! + 'Tis here, then, that a woman, a frail mortal, + A dust-created being, dares to lure + The mighty Thunderer from out mine arms, + And hold him prisoner against her lips! + + Juno! Juno! thought of madness! + Thou all lonely and in sadness, + Standest now on heaven's bright throne! + Though the votive smoke ascendeth, + Though each knee in homage bendeth, + What are they when love has flown? + + To humble, alas, each too-haughty emotion + That swelled my proud breast, from the foam of the ocean + Fair Venus arose, to enchant gods and men! + And the Fates my still deeper abasement decreeing, + Her offspring Hermione brought into being, + And the bliss once mine own can ne'er glad me again! + + Amongst the gods do I not reign the queen? + Am I not sister of the Thunderer? + Am I not wife of Zeus, the lord of all? + Groans not the mighty axis of the heavens + At my command? Gleams not Olympus' crown + Upon my head? Ha! now I feel myself! + In my immortal veins is Kronos' blood, + Right royally now swells my godlike heart. + Revenge! revenge! + Shall she unpunished ridicule my might? + Unpunished, discord roll amongst the gods, + Inviting Eris to invade the courts, + The joyous courts of heaven? Vain, thoughtless one! + Perish, and learn upon the Stygian stream + The difference 'twixt divine and earthly dust! + The giant-armor, may it weigh thee down— + Thy passion for a god to atoms crush thee! + Armed with revenge, as with a coat of mail, + I have descended from Olympus' heights, + Devising sweet, ensnaring, flattering words; + But in those words, death and destruction lurk. + Hark! 'tis her footstep! she approaches now— + Approaches ruin and a certain death! + Veil thyself, goddess, in a mortal form! [Exit. + + SEMELE. (Calling behind the scenes.) + The sun is fast declining! Maidens, haste, + Scatter ambrosial fragrance through the hall, + Strew roses and narcissus flowers around, + Forgetting not the gold-embroidered pillow. + He comes not yet—the sun is fast declining— + + JUNO. (hastily entering in the form of an old woman.) + Praised be the deities, my dearest daughter! + + SEMELE. + Ha! Do I dream? Am I awake? Gods! Beroe! + + JUNO. + Is't possible that Semele can e'er + Forget her nurse? + + SEMELE. 'Tis Beroe! By Zeus! + Oh, let thy daughter clasp thee to her heart! + Thou livest still? What can have brought thee here + From Epidaurus? Tell me all thy tale! + Thou art my mother as of old? + + JUNO. Thy mother! + Time was thou call'dst me so. + + SEMELE. Thou art so still, + And wilt remain so, till I drink full deep + Of Lethe's maddening draught. + JUNO. Soon Beroe + Will drink oblivion from the waves of Lethe; + But Cadmus' daughter ne'er will taste that draught. + + SEMELE. + How, my good nurse? Thy language ne'er was wont + To be mysterious or of hidden meaning; + The spirit of gray hairs 'tis speaks in thee; + Thou sayest I ne'er shall taste of Lethe's draught? + + JUNO. + I said so, yes! But wherefore ridicule + Gray hairs? 'Tis true that they, unlike fair tresses, + Have ne'er been able to ensnare a god! + + SEMELE. + Pardon poor thoughtless me! What cause have I + To ridicule gray hairs? Can I suppose + That mine forever fair will grace my neck? + But what was that I heard thee muttering + Between thy teeth? A god? + + JUNO. Said I a god? + The deities in truth dwell everywhere! + 'Tis good for earth's frail children to implore them. + The gods are found where thou art—Semele! + What wouldst thou ask? + + SEMELE. Malicious heart! But say + What brings thee to this spot from Epidaurus? + 'Tis not because the gods delight to dwell + near Semele? + + JUNO. By Jupiter, naught else!— + What fire was that which mounted to thy cheeks + When I pronounced the name of Jupiter? + Naught else, my daughter! Fearfully the plague + At Epidaurus rages; every blast + Is deadly poison, every breath destroys; + The son his mother burns, his bride the bridegroom; + The funeral piles rear up their flaming heads, + Converting even midnight to bright day, + While howls of anguish ceaseless rend the air; + Full to overflowing is the cup of woe!— + In anger, Zeus looks down on our poor nation; + In vain the victim's blood is shed, in vain + Before the altar bows the priest his knee; + Deaf is his ear to all our supplications— + Therefore my sorrow-stricken country now + Has sent me here to Cadmus' regal daughter, + In hopes that I may move her to avert + His anger from us—"Beroe, the nurse, + Has influence," thus they said, "with Semele, + And Semele with Zeus"—I know no more, + And understand still less what means the saying, + That Semele such influence has with Zeus. + + SEMELE. (Eagerly and thoughtlessly.) + The plague shall cease to-morrow! Tell them so + Zeus loves me! Say so! It shall cease to-day! + + JUNO. (Starting up in astonishment.) + Ha! Is it true what fame with thousand tongues + Has spread abroad from Ida to Mount Haemus? + Zeus loves thee? Zeus salutes thee in the glory + Wherein the denizens of heaven regard him, + When in Saturnia's arms he sinks to rest? + Let, O ye gods, my gray hairs now descend + To Orcus' shades, for I have lived enough! + In godlike splendor Kronos' mighty son + Comes down to her,—to her, who on this breast + Once suckled—yes! to her— + + SEMELE. Oh, Beroe! + In youthful form he came, in lovelier guise + Than they who from Aurora's lap arise; + Fairer than Hesper, breathing incense dim,— + In floods of ether steeped appeared each limb; + He moved with graceful and majestic motion, + Like silvery billows heaving o'er the ocean, + Or as Hyperion, whose bright shoulders ever + His bow and arrow bear, and clanging quiver; + His robe of light behind him gracefully + Danced in the breeze, his voice breathed melody, + Like crystal streams with silvery murmur falling, + More ravishing than Orpheus' strains enthralling. + + JUNO. + My daughter! Inspiration spurs thee on, + Raising thy heart to flights of Helicon! + If thus in strains of Delphic ecstasy + Ascends the short-lived blissful memory + Of his bright charms,—Oh, how divine must be + His own sweet voice,—his look how heavenly! + But why of that great attribute + Kronion joys in most, be mute,— + The majesty that hurls the thunder, + And tears the fleeting clouds asunder? + Wilt thou say naught of that alone? + Prometheus and Deucalion + May lend the fairest charms of love, + But none can wield the bolt save Jove! + The thunderbolt it is alone + Which he before thy feet laid down + That proves thy right to beauty's crown. + + SEMELE. + What sayest thou? What are thunder-bolts to me? + + JUNO. (Smiling.) + Ah, Semele! A jest becomes thee well! + + SEMELE. + Deucalion has no offspring so divine + As is my Zeus—of thunder naught I know. + + JUNO. + Mere envy! Fie! + + SEMELE. No, Beroe! By Zeus! + + JUNO. + Thou swearest? + + SEMELE. By Zeus! by mine own Zeus! + + JUNO. (Shrieking.) Thou swearest? + Unhappy one! + + SEMELE. (In alarm.) What meanest thou, Beroe? + + JUNO. + Repeat the word that dooms thee to become + the wretchedest of all on earth's wide face!— + Alas, lost creature! 'Twas not Zeus! + + SEMELE. Not Zeus? + Oh, fearful thought! + + JUNO. A cunning traitor 'twas + From Attica, who 'neath a godlike form, + Robbed thee of honor, shame, and innocence!— + [SEMELE sinks to the ground. + Well mayest thou fall! Ne'er mayest thou rise again! + May endless night enshroud thine eyes in darkness, + May endless silence round thine ears encamp! + Remain forever here a lifeless mass! + Oh, infamy! Enough to hurl chaste day + Back into Hecate's gloomy arms once more! + Ye gods! And is it thus that Beroe + Finds Cadmus' daughter, after sixteen years + Of bitter separation! Full of joy + I came from Epidaurus; but with shame + To Epidaurus must retrace my steps.— + Despair I take with me. Alas, my people! + E'en to the second Deluge now the plague + May rage at will, may pile mount Oeta high + With corpses upon corpses, and may turn + All Greece into one mighty charnel-house, + Ere Semele can bend the angry gods. + I, thou, and Greece, and all, have been betrayed! + + SEMELE. (Trembling as she rises, and extending an arm towards her.) + Oh, Beroe! + + JUNO. Take courage, my dear heart! + Perchance 'tis Zeus! although it scarce can be! + Perchance 'tis really Zeus! This we must learn! + He must disclose himself to thee, or thou + Must fly his sight forever, and devote + The monster to the death-revenge of Thebes. + Look up, dear daughter—look upon the face + Of thine own Beroe, who looks on thee + With sympathizing eyes—my Semele, + Were it not well to try him? + + SEMELE. No, by heaven! + I should not find him then— + + JUNO. What! Wilt thou be + Perchance less wretched, if thou pinest on + In mournful doubt?—and if 'tis really he,— + + SEMELE. (Hiding her face in Juno's lap.) + Ah! 'tis not he! + + JUNO. And if he came to thee + Arrayed in all the majesty wherein + Olympus sees him? Semele! What then? + Wouldst thou repent thee then of having tried him? + + SEMELE. (Springing up.) + Ha! be it so! He must unveil himself! + + JUNO. (Hastily.) + Thou must not let him sink into thine arms. + Till he unveils himself—so hearken, child, + To what thy faithful nurse now counsels thee,— + To what affection whispers in mine ear, + And will accomplish!—Say! will he soon come? + + SEMELE. + Before Hyperion sinks in Thetis' bed, + He promised to appear. + + JUNO. (Forgetting herself hastily.) Is't so, indeed? + He promised? Ha! To-day? (Recovering herself.) Let him approach, + And when he would attempt, inflamed with love, + To clasp his arms around thee, then do thou,— + Observe me well,—as if by lightning struck, + Start back in haste. Ha! picture his surprise! + Leave him not long in wonderment, my child; + Continue to repulse him with a look + As cold as ice—more wildly, with more ardor + He'll press thee then—the coyness of the fair + Is but a dam, that for awhile keeps back + The torrent, only to increase the flood + With greater fury. Then begin to weep + 'Gainst giants he might stand,—look calmly on + When Typheus, hundred-armed, in fury hurled + Mount Ossa and Olympus 'gainst his throne: + But Zeus is soon subdued by beauty's tears. + Thou smilest?—Be it so! Is, then, the scholar + Wiser, perchance, than she who teaches her?— + Then thou must pray the god one little, little + Most innocent request to grant to thee— + One that may seal his love and godhead too. + He'll swear by Styx. The Styx he must obey! + That oath he dares not break! Then speak these words: + "Thou shalt not touch this body, till thou comest + To Cadmus' daughter clothed in all the might + Wherein thou art embraced by Kronos' daughter!" + Be not thou terrified, my Semele, + If he, in order to escape thy wish, + As bugbears paints the horrors of his presence— + Describes the flames that round about him roar, + The thunder round him rolling when he comes: + These, Semele, are naught but empty fears— + The gods dislike to show to us frail mortals + These the most glorious of their attributes; + Be thou but obstinate in thy request, + And Juno's self will gaze on thee with envy. + + SEMELE. + The frightful ox-eyed one! How often he + Complains, in the blest moments of our love, + Of her tormenting him with her black gall— + + JUNO. (Aside, furiously, but with embarrassment.) + Ha! creature! Thou shalt die for this contempt! + + SEMELE. + My Beroe! What art thou murmuring there? + + JUNO. (In confusion.) + Nothing, my Semele! Black gall torments + Me also—Yes! a sharp, reproachful look + With lovers often passes as black gall— + Yet ox-eyes, after all, are not so ugly. + + SEMELE. + Oh, Beroe, for shame! they're quite the worst + That any head can possibly contain! + And then her cheeks of green and yellow hues, + The obvious penalty of poisonous envy— + Zeus oft complains to me that that same shrew + Each night torments him with her nauseous love, + And with her jealous whims,—enough, I'm sure, + Into Ixion's wheel to turn all heaven. + + JUNO. (Raving up and down in extreme confusion.) + No more of this! + + SEMELE. What, Beroe! So angry? + Have I said more than what is true? Said more + Than what is wise? + + JUNO. Thou hast said more, young woman, + Than what is true—said more than what is wise! + Deem thyself truly blest, if thy blue eyes + Smile thee not into Charon's bark too soon! + Saturnia has her altars and her temples, + And wanders amongst mortals—that great goddess + Avenges naught so bitterly as scorn + + SEMELE. + Here let her wander, and give birth to scorn! + What is't to me?—My Jupiter protects + My every hair,—what harm can Juno do? + But now, enough of this, my Beroe! + Zeus must appear to-day in all his glory; + And if Saturnia should on that account + Find out the path to Orcus— + + JUNO. (Aside.) That same path + Another probably will find before her, + If but Kronion's lightning hits the mark!— + (To Semele.) + Yes, Semele, she well may burst with envy + When Cadmus' daughter, in the sight of Greece, + Ascends in triumph to Olympus' heights!— + + SEMELE. (Smiling gently.) + Thinkest thou they'll hear in Greece of Cadmus' daughter? + + JUNO. From Sidon to Athens the trumpet of fame + Shall ring with no other but Semele's name! + The gods from the heavens shall even descend, + And before thee their knees in deep homage shall bend, + While mortals in silent submission abide + The will of the giant-destroyer's loved bride; + And when distant years shall see + Thy last hour— + + SEMELE. (Springing up, and falling on her neck.) + Oh, Beroe! + + JUNO. Then a tablet white shall bear + This inscription graven there: + Here is worshipped Semele! + Who on earth so fair as she? + She who from Olympus' throne + Lured the thunder-hurler down! + She who, with her kisses sweet, + Laid him prostrate at her feet! + And when fame on her thousand wings bears it around, + The echo from valley and hill shall resound. + + SEMELE. (Beside herself.) + Pythia! Apollo! Hear! + When, oh when will he appear? + + JUNO. And on smoking altars they + Rites divine to thee shall pay— + + SEMELE. (Inspired.) + I will harken to their prayer, + And will drive away their care,— + Quench with my tears the lightning of great Jove, + His breast to pity with entreaty move! + + JUNO. (Aside.) + Poor thing! that wilt thou ne'er have power to do. (Meditating.) + Ere long will melt . . . yet—yet—she called me ugly!— + No pity only when in Tartarus! + (To Semele.) + Fly now, my love! Make haste to leave this spot, + That Zeus may not observe thee—Let him wait + Long for thy coming, that he with more fire + May languish for thee— + + SEMELE. Beroe! The heavens + Have chosen thee their mouthpiece! Happy I! + The gods from Olympus shall even descend, + And before me their knees in deep homage shall bend, + While mortals in silent submission abide— + But hold!—'tis time for me to haste away! + [Exit hurriedly. + + JUNO. (Looking after her with exultation.) + Weak, proud, and easily-deluded woman! + His tender looks shall be consuming fire— + His kiss, annihilation—his embrace, + A raging tempest to thee! Human frames + Are powerless to endure the dreaded presence + Of him who wields the thunderbolt on high! + (With raving ecstasy.) + Ha! when her waxen mortal body melts + Within the arms of him, the fire-distilling, + As melts the fleecy snow before the heat + Of the bright sun—and when the perjured one + In place of his soft tender bride, embraces + A form of terror—with what ecstasy + Shall I gaze downwards from Cithaeron's height, + Exclaiming, so that in his hand the bolt + Shall quake: "For shame, Saturnius! Fie, for shame! + What need is there for thee to clasp so roughly?" + [Exit hastily. + (A Symphony.) +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + SCENE II. + + The Hall as before.—Sudden brightness. + ZEUS in the shape of a youth.—MERCURY in the distance. + + ZEUS. + Thou son of Maia! + + MERCURY. (Kneeling, with his head bowed reverentially.) + Zeus! + + ZEUS. Up! Hasten! Turn + Thy pinions' flight toward far Scamander's bank! + A shepherd there is weeping o'er the grave + Of his loved shepherdess. No one shall weep + When Zeus is loving: Call the dead to life! + + MERCURY. (Rising.) + Let but thy head a nod almighty give, + And in an instant I am there,—am back + In the same instant— + + ZEUS. Stay! As I o'er Argos + Was flying, from my temples curling rose + The sacrificial smoke: it gave me joy + That thus the people worship me—so fly + To Ceres, to my sister,—thus speaks Zeus: + "Ten-thousandfold for fifty years to come + Let her reward the Argive husbandmen!"— + + MERCURY. + With trembling haste I execute thy wrath,— + With joyous speed thy messages of grace, + Father of all! For to the deities + 'Tis bliss to make man happy; to destroy him + Is anguish to the gods. Thy will be done! + Where shall I pour into thine ears their thanks,— + Below in dust, or at thy throne on high? + + ZEUS. + Here at my throne on earth—within the palace, + Of Semele! Away! [Exit Mercury. + Does she not come, + As is her wont, Olympus' mighty king + To clasp against her rapture-swelling breast? + Why hastens not my Semele to meet me? + A vacant, deathlike, fearful silence reigns + On every side around the lonely palace, + So wont to ring with wild bacchantic shouts— + No breath is stirring—on Cithaeron's height + Exulting Juno stands. Will Semele + Never again make haste to meet her Zeus? + (A pause, after which he continues.) + Ha! Can yon impious one perchance have dared + To set her foot in my love's sanctuary?— + Saturnia—Mount Cithaeron—her rejoicings + Fearful foreboding!—Semele—yet peace!— + Take courage!—I'm thy Zeus! the scattered heavens + Shall learn, my Semele, that I'm thy Zeus! + Where is the breath of air that dares presume + Roughly to blow on her whom Zeus calls His? + I scoff at all her malice.—Where art thou, + O Semele? I long have pined to rest + My world-tormented head upon thy breast,— + To lull my wearied senses to repose + From the wild storm of earthly joys and woes,— + To dream away the emblems of my might, + My reins, my tiller, and my chariot bright, + And live for naught beyond the joys of love! + Oh heavenly inspiration, that can move + Even the Gods divine! What is the blood + Of mighty Uranus—what all the flood + Of nectar and ambrosia—what the throne + Of high Olympus—what the power I own, + The golden sceptre of the starry skies— + What the omnipotence that never dies, + What might eternal, immortality— + What e'en a god, oh love, if reft of thee? + The shepherd who, beside the murmuring brooks, + Leans on his true love's breast, nor cares to look + After his straying lambs, in that sweet hour + Envies me not my thunderbolt of power! + She comes—she hastens nigh! Pearl of my works, + Woman! the artist who created thee + Should be adored. 'Twas I—myself I worship + Zeus worships Zeus, for Zeus created thee. + Ha! Who will now, in all the being-realm, + Condemn me? How unseen, yes, how despised + Dwindle away my worlds, my constellations + So ray-diffusing, all my dancing systems, + What wise men call the music of my spheres!— + How dead are all when weighed against a soul! + (Semele approaches, without looking up.) + My pride! my throne on earth! Oh Semele! + (He rushes towards her; she seeks to fly.) + Thou flyest?—art mute?—Ha! Semele! thou flyest? + + SEMELE. (Repulsing him.) + Away! + + ZEUS. (After a pause of astonishment.) + Is Jupiter asleep? Will Nature + Rush to her fall?—Can Semele speak thus? + What, not an answer? Eagerly mine arms + Toward thee are stretched—my bosom never throbbed + Responsive to Agenor's daughter,—never + Throbbed against Leda's breast,—my lips ne'er burned + For the sweet kiss of prisoned Danae, + As now— + + SEMELE. Peace, traitor! Peace! + + ZEUS. (With displeasure, but tenderly.) My Semele! + + SEMELE. + Out of my sight! + + ZEUS. (Looking at her with majesty.) + Know, I am Zeus! + + SEMELE. Thou Zeus? + Tremble, Salmoneus, for he fearfully + Will soon demand again the stolen charms + That thou hast robbed him of—thou art not Zeus! + + ZEUS. (With dignity.) + The mighty universe around me whirls, + And calls me so— + + SEMELE. Ha! Fearful blasphemy! + + ZEUS. (More gently.) + How, my divine one? Wherefore such a tone? + What reptile dares to steal thine heart from me? + + SEMELE. + My heart was vowed to him whose ape thou art! + Men ofttimes come beneath a godlike form + To snare a woman. Hence! thou art not Zeus! + + ZEUS. + Thou doubtest? What! Can Semele still doubt + My godhead? + + SEMELE. (Mournfully.) + Would that thou wert Zeus! No son + Of morrow-nothingness shall touch this mouth; + This heart is vowed to Zeus! Would thou wert he! + + ZEUS. Thou weepest? Zeus is here,—weeps Semele? + (Falling down before her.) + Speak! But command! and then shall slavish nature + Lie trembling at the feet of Cadmus' daughter! + Command! and streams shall instantly make halt— + And Helicon, and Caucasus, and Cynthus, + And Athos, Mycale, and Rhodope, and Pindus, + Shall burst their bonds when I order it so, + And kiss the valleys and plains below, + And dance in the breeze like flakes of snow. + Command! and the winds from the east and the north, + And the fierce tornado shall sally forth, + While Poseidon's trident their power shall own, + When they shake to its base his watery throne; + The billows in angry fury shall rise, + And every sea-mark and dam despise; + The lightning shall gleam through the firmament black + While the poles of earth and of heaven shall crack, + The ocean the heights of Olympus explore, + From thousandfold jaws with wild deafening roar + The thunder shall howl, while with mad jubilee + The hurricane fierce sings in triumph to thee. + Command— + + SEMELE, I'm but a woman, a frail woman + How can the potter bend before his pot? + How can the artist kneel before his statue? + + ZEUS. + Pygmalion bowed before his masterpiece— + And Zeus now worships his own Semele! + + SEMELE. (Weeping bitterly.) + Arise—arise! Alas for us poor maidens! + Zeus has my heart, gods only can I love, + The gods deride me, Zeus despises me! + + ZEUS. Zeus who is now before thy feet— + + SEMELE. Arise! + Zeus reigns on high, above the thunderbolts, + And, clasped in Juno's arms, a reptile scorns. + + ZEUS. (Hastily.) + Ha! Semele and Juno!—which the reptile! + + SEMELE. + How blessed beyond all utterance would be + Cadmus' daughter—wert thou Zeus! Alas! + Thou art not Zeus! + + ZEUS. (Arises.) I am! + (He extends his hand, and a rainbow fills the hall; music + accompanies its appearance.) + Knowest thou me now? + + SEMELE. + Strong is that mortal's arm whom gods protect,— + Saturnius loves thee—none can I e'er love + But deities— + + ZEUS. What! art thou doubting still + Whether my might is lent me by the gods + And not god-born? The gods, my Semele, + In charity oft lend their strength to man; + Ne'er do the deities their terrors lend— + Death and destruction is the godhead's seal— + Bearer of death to thee were Zeus unveiled! + (He extends his hand. Thunder, fire, smoke, and earthquake. + Music accompanies the spell here and subsequently.) + + SEMELE. + Withdraw, withdraw thy hand!—Oh, mercy, mercy, + For the poor nation! Yes, thou art the child + Of great Saturnius— + + ZEUS. Ha! thou thoughtless one! + Shall Zeus, to please a woman's stubbornness, + Bid planets whirl, and bid the suns stand still? + Zeus will do so!—oft has a god's descendant + Ripped up the fire-impregnate womb of rocks, + And yet his might's confined to Tellus' bounds + Zeus only can do this! + (He extends his hand—the sun vanishes, and it becomes + suddenly night.) + + SEMELE. (Falling down before him.) + Almighty one! + Couldst thou but love! [Day reappears. + + ZEUS. Ha! Cadmus' daughter asks + Kronion if Kronion e'er can love! + One word and he throws off divinity— + Is flesh and blood, and dies, and is beloved! + + SEMELE. + Would Zeus do that? + ZEUS. Speak, Semele! What more? + Apollo's self confesses that 'tis bliss + To be a man 'mongst men—a sign from thee, + And I'm a man! + + SEMELE. (Falling on his neck.) + Oh Jupiter, the Epidaurus women + Thy Semele a foolish maiden call, + Because, though by the Thunderer beloved, + She can obtain naught from him— + + ZEUS. (Eagerly.) They shall blush, + Those Epidaurus women! Ask!—but ask! + And by the dreaded Styx—whose boundless might + Binds e'en the gods like slaves—if Zeus deny thee, + Then shall the gods, e'en in that self-same moment, + Hurl me despairing to annihilation! + + SEMELE. (Springing up joyfully.) + By this I know that thou'rt my Jupiter! + Thou swearest—and the Styx has heard thine oath! + Let me embrace thee, then, in the same guise + In which— + + ZEUS. (Shrieking with alarm.) + Unhappy one! Oh stay! oh stay! + + SEMELE. Saturnia— + + ZEUS. (Attempting to stop her mouth.) + Be thou dumb! + + SEMELE. Embraces thee. + + ZEUS. (Pale, and turning away.) + Too late! The sound escaped!—The Styx!—'Tis death + Thou, Semele, hast gained! + + SEMELE. Ha! Loves Zeus thus? + + ZEUS. + All heaven I would have given, had I only + Loved thee but less! (Gazing at her with cold + horror.) Thou'rt lost— + + SEMELE. Oh, Jupiter! + + ZEUS. (Speaking furiously to himself,) + Ah! Now I mark thine exultation, Juno! + Accursed jealousy! This rose must die! + Too fair—alas! too sweet for Acheron! + + SEMELE. + Methinks thou'rt niggard of thy majesty! + + ZEUS. + Accursed be my majesty, that now + Has blinded thee! Accursed be my greatness, + That must destroy thee! Cursed be I myself + For having built my bliss on crumbling dust! + + SEMELE. + These are but empty terrors, Zeus! In truth + I do not dread thy threats! + ZEUS. Deluded child! + Go! take a last farewell forever more + Of all thy friends beloved—naught, naught has power + To save thee, Semele! I am thy Zeus! + Yet that no more—Go— + + SEMELE. Jealous one! the Styx!— + Think not that thou'lt be able to escape me. [Exit. + + ZEUS. + No! Juno shall not triumph.—She shall tremble— + Aye, and by virtue of the deadly might + That makes the earth and makes the heavens my footstool, + Upon the sharpest rock in Thracia's land + With adamantine chains I'll bind her fast. + But, oh, this oath— + [Mercury appears in the distance. + What means thy hasty flight? + + MERCURY. + I bring the fiery, winged, and weeping thanks + Of those whom thou hast blessed— + + ZEUS. Again destroy them! + + MERCURY. (In amazement.) + Zeus! + + ZEUS. None shall now be blessed! She dies— + [The curtain falls. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_FOOT" id="link2H_FOOT"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + FOOTNOTES + </h2> + <blockquote> + <blockquote> + <p> + <a href="#linknoteref-1" name="linknote-1" id="linknote-1">1</a> The + allusion in the original is to the seemingly magical power possessed + by a Jew conjuror, named Philadelphia, which would not be understood + in English. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#linknoteref-2" name="linknote-2" id="linknote-2">2</a> This + most exquisite love poem is founded on the platonic notion, that souls + were united in a pre-existent state, that love is the yearning of the + spirit to reunite with the spirit with which it formerly made one—and + which it discovers on earth. The idea has often been made subservient + to poetry, but never with so earnest and elaborate a beauty. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#linknoteref-3" name="linknote-3" id="linknote-3">3</a> "Und + Empfindung soll mein Richtschwert seyn." A line of great vigor in the + original, but which, if literally translated, would seem extravagant + in English. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#linknoteref-4" name="linknote-4" id="linknote-4">4</a> + Joseph, in the original. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#linknoteref-5" name="linknote-5" id="linknote-5">5</a> The + youth's name was John Christian Weckherlin. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#linknoteref-6" name="linknote-6" id="linknote-6">6</a> + Venus. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#linknoteref-7" name="linknote-7" id="linknote-7">7</a> + Originally Laura, this having been one of the "Laura-Poems," as the + Germans call them of which so many appeared in the Anthology (see + Preface). English readers will probably not think that the change is + for the better. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#linknoteref-8" name="linknote-8" id="linknote-8">8</a> + Tityus. + </p> + </blockquote> + </blockquote> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Poems of The First Period, by Friedrich Schiller + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS OF THE FIRST PERIOD *** + +***** This file should be named 6794-h.htm or 6794-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/6/7/9/6794/ + +Produced by Tapio Riikonen and David Widger + +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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