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diff --git a/6795-h/6795-h.htm b/6795-h/6795-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5b16107 --- /dev/null +++ b/6795-h/6795-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1870 @@ +<?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, 2nd Series by Friedrich Schiller + </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 Second 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 Second Period + +Author: Friedrich Schiller + +Release Date: October 26, 2006 [EBook #6795] +Last Updated: November 6, 2012 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS OF THE SECOND PERIOD *** + + + + +Produced by Tapio Riikonen and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <h1> + SCHILLER'S POEMS + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Friedrich Schiller + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + POEMS OF THE SECOND PERIOD. + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + CONTENTS + </h2> + <table summary=""> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> HYMN TO JOY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> THE GODS OF GREECE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> RESIGNATION. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> THE CONFLICT. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> THE ARTISTS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> THE CELEBRATED WOMAN. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> WRITTEN IN A YOUNG LADY'S ALBUM. </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> + HYMN TO JOY. + </h2> + <blockquote> + <blockquote> + <blockquote> + <blockquote> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Joy, thou goddess, fair, immortal, + Offspring of Elysium, + Mad with rapture, to the portal + Of thy holy fame we come! + Fashion's laws, indeed, may sever, + But thy magic joins again; + All mankind are brethren ever + 'Neath thy mild and gentle reign. + + CHORUS. + Welcome, all ye myriad creatures! + Brethren, take the kiss of love! + Yes, the starry realms above + Hide a Father's smiling features! + + He, that noble prize possessing— + He that boasts a friend that's true, + He whom woman's love is blessing, + Let him join the chorus too! + Aye, and he who but one spirit + On this earth can call his own! + He who no such bliss can merit, + Let him mourn his fate alone! + + CHORUS. + All who Nature's tribes are swelling + Homage pay to sympathy; + For she guides us up on high, + Where the unknown has his dwelling. + + From the breasts of kindly Nature + All of joy imbibe the dew; + Good and bad alike, each creature + Would her roseate path pursue. + 'Tis through her the wine-cup maddens, + Love and friends to man she gives! + Bliss the meanest reptile gladdens,— + Near God's throne the cherub lives! + + CHORUS. + Bow before him, all creation! + Mortals, own the God of love! + Seek him high the stars above,— + Yonder is his habitation! + + Joy, in Nature's wide dominion, + Mightiest cause of all is found; + And 'tis joy that moves the pinion, + When the wheel of time goes round; + From the bud she lures the flower— + Suns from out their orbs of light; + Distant spheres obey her power, + Far beyond all mortal sight. + + CHORUS. + As through heaven's expanse so glorious + In their orbits suns roll on, + Brethren, thus your proud race run, + Glad as warriors all-victorious! + + Joy from truth's own glass of fire + Sweetly on the searcher smiles; + Lest on virtue's steeps he tire, + Joy the tedious path beguiles. + High on faith's bright hill before us, + See her banner proudly wave! + Joy, too, swells the angels' chorus,— + Bursts the bondage of the grave! + + CHORUS. + Mortals, meekly wait for heaven + Suffer on in patient love! + In the starry realms above, + Bright rewards by God are given. + + To the Gods we ne'er can render + Praise for every good they grant; + Let us, with devotion tender, + Minister to grief and want. + Quenched be hate and wrath forever, + Pardoned be our mortal foe— + May our tears upbraid him never, + No repentance bring him low! + + CHORUS. + Sense of wrongs forget to treasure— + Brethren, live in perfect love! + In the starry realms above, + God will mete as we may measure. + + Joy within the goblet flushes, + For the golden nectar, wine, + Every fierce emotion hushes,— + Fills the breast with fire divine. + Brethren, thus in rapture meeting, + Send ye round the brimming cup,— + Yonder kindly spirit greeting, + While the foam to heaven mounts up! + + CHORUS. + He whom seraphs worship ever; + Whom the stars praise as they roll, + Yes to him now drain the bowl + Mortal eye can see him never! + + Courage, ne'er by sorrow broken! + Aid where tears of virtue flow; + Faith to keep each promise spoken! + Truth alike to friend and foe! + 'Neath kings' frowns a manly spirit!— + Brethren, noble is the prize— + Honor due to every merit! + Death to all the brood of lies! + + CHORUS. + Draw the sacred circle closer! + By this bright wine plight your troth + To be faithful to your oath! + Swear it by the Star-Disposer! + + Safety from the tyrant's power! <a href="#linknote-9" name="linknoteref-9" + id="linknoteref-9">9</a> + Mercy e'en to traitors base! + Hope in death's last solemn hour! + Pardon when before His face! + Lo, the dead shall rise to heaven! + Brethren hail the blest decree; + Every sin shall be forgiven, + Hell forever cease to be! + + CHORUS. + When the golden bowl is broken, + Gentle sleep within the tomb! + Brethren, may a gracious doom + By the Judge of man be spoken! +</pre> + </blockquote> + </blockquote> + </blockquote> + </blockquote> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + She comes, she comes—the burden of the deeps! + Beneath her wails the universal sea! + With clanking chains and a new god, she sweeps, + And with a thousand thunders, unto thee! + The ocean-castles and the floating hosts— + Ne'er on their like looked the wild water!—Well + May man the monster name "Invincible." + O'er shuddering waves she gathers to thy coasts! + The horror that she spreads can claim + Just title to her haughty name. + The trembling Neptune quails + Under the silent and majestic forms; + The doom of worlds in those dark sails;— + Near and more near they sweep! and slumber all the storms! + + Before thee, the array, + Blest island, empress of the sea! + The sea-born squadrons threaten thee, + And thy great heart, Britannia! + Woe to thy people, of their freedom proud— + She rests, a thunder heavy in its cloud! + Who, to thy hand the orb and sceptre gave, + That thou should'st be the sovereign of the nations? + To tyrant kings thou wert thyself the slave, + Till freedom dug from law its deep foundations; + The mighty Chart the citizens made kings, + And kings to citizens sublimely bowed! + And thou thyself, upon thy realm of water, + Hast thou not rendered millions up to slaughter, + When thy ships brought upon their sailing wings + The sceptre—and the shroud? + What should'st thou thank?—Blush, earth, to hear and feel + What should'st thou thank?—Thy genius and thy steel! + Behold the hidden and the giant fires! + Behold thy glory trembling to its fall! + Thy coming doom the round earth shall appal, + And all the hearts of freemen beat for thee, + And all free souls their fate in thine foresee— + Theirs is thy glory's fall! + + One look below the Almighty gave, + Where streamed the lion-flags of thy proud foe; + And near and wider yawned the horrent grave. + "And who," saith He, "shall lay mine England low— + The stem that blooms with hero-deeds— + The rock when man from wrong a refuge needs— + The stronghold where the tyrant comes in vain? + Who shall bid England vanish from the main? + Ne'er be this only Eden freedom knew, + Man's stout defence from power, to fate consigned." + God the Almighty blew, + And the Armada went to every wind! +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE GODS OF GREECE. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Ye in the age gone by, + Who ruled the world—a world how lovely then!— + And guided still the steps of happy men + In the light leading-strings of careless joy! + Ah, flourished then your service of delight! + How different, oh, how different, in the day + When thy sweet fanes with many a wreath were bright, + O Venus Amathusia! + + Then, through a veil of dreams + Woven by song, truth's youthful beauty glowed, + And life's redundant and rejoicing streams + Gave to the soulless, soul—where'r they flowed + Man gifted nature with divinity + To lift and link her to the breast of love; + All things betrayed to the initiate eye + The track of gods above! + + Where lifeless—fixed afar, + A flaming ball to our dull sense is given, + Phoebus Apollo, in his golden car, + In silent glory swept the fields of heaven! + On yonder hill the Oread was adored, + In yonder tree the Dryad held her home; + And from her urn the gentle Naiad poured + The wavelet's silver foam. + + Yon bay, chaste Daphne wreathed, + Yon stone was mournful Niobe's mute cell, + Low through yon sedges pastoral Syrinx breathed, + And through those groves wailed the sweet Philomel, + The tears of Ceres swelled in yonder rill— + Tears shed for Proserpine to Hades borne; + And, for her lost Adonis, yonder hill + Heard Cytherea mourn!— + + Heaven's shapes were charmed unto + The mortal race of old Deucalion; + Pyrrha's fair daughter, humanly to woo, + Came down, in shepherd-guise, Latona's son + Between men, heroes, gods, harmonious then + Love wove sweet links and sympathies divine; + Blest Amathusia, heroes, gods, and men, + Equals before thy shrine! + + Not to that culture gay, + Stern self-denial, or sharp penance wan! + Well might each heart be happy in that day— + For gods, the happy ones, were kin to man! + The beautiful alone the holy there! + No pleasure shamed the gods of that young race; + So that the chaste Camoenae favoring were, + And the subduing grace! + + A palace every shrine; + Your sports heroic;—yours the crown + Of contests hallowed to a power divine, + As rushed the chariots thundering to renown. + Fair round the altar where the incense breathed, + Moved your melodious dance inspired; and fair + Above victorious brows, the garland wreathed + Sweet leaves round odorous hair! + + The lively Thyrsus-swinger, + And the wild car the exulting panthers bore, + Announced the presence of the rapture-bringer— + Bounded the Satyr and blithe Faun before; + And Maenads, as the frenzy stung the soul, + Hymned in their maddening dance, the glorious wine— + As ever beckoned to the lusty bowl + The ruddy host divine! + + Before the bed of death + No ghastly spectre stood—but from the porch + Of life, the lip—one kiss inhaled the breath, + And the mute graceful genius lowered a torch. + The judgment-balance of the realms below, + A judge, himself of mortal lineage, held; + The very furies at the Thracian's woe, + Were moved and music-spelled. + + In the Elysian grove + The shades renewed the pleasures life held dear: + The faithful spouse rejoined remembered love, + And rushed along the meads the charioteer; + There Linus poured the old accustomed strain; + Admetus there Alcestis still could greet; his + Friend there once more Orestes could regain, + His arrows—Philoctetes! + + More glorious than the meeds + That in their strife with labor nerved the brave, + To the great doer of renowned deeds + The Hebe and the heaven the Thunderer gave. + Before the rescued rescuer <a href="#linknote-10" name="linknoteref-10" + id="linknoteref-10">10</a> of the dead, + Bowed down the silent and immortal host; + And the twain stars <a href="#linknote-11" name="linknoteref-11" + id="linknoteref-11">11</a> their guiding lustre shed, + On the bark tempest-tossed! + + Art thou, fair world, no more? + Return, thou virgin-bloom on Nature's face; + Ah, only on the minstrel's magic shore, + Can we the footstep of sweet fable trace! + The meadows mourn for the old hallowing life; + Vainly we search the earth of gods bereft; + Where once the warm and living shapes were rife, + Shadows alone are left! + + Cold, from the north, has gone + Over the flowers the blast that killed their May; + And, to enrich the worship of the one, + A universe of gods must pass away! + Mourning, I search on yonder starry steeps, + But thee no more, Selene, there I see! + And through the woods I call, and o'er the deeps, + And—Echo answers me! + + Deaf to the joys she gives— + Blind to the pomp of which she is possessed— + Unconscious of the spiritual power that lives + Around, and rules her—by our bliss unblessed— + Dull to the art that colors or creates, + Like the dead timepiece, godless nature creeps + Her plodding round, and, by the leaden weights, + The slavish motion keeps. + + To-morrow to receive + New life, she digs her proper grave to-day; + And icy moons with weary sameness weave + From their own light their fulness and decay. + Home to the poet's land the gods are flown, + Light use in them that later world discerns, + Which, the diviner leading-strings outgrown, + On its own axle turns. + + Home! and with them are gone + The hues they gazed on and the tones they heard; + Life's beauty and life's melody:—alone + Broods o'er the desolate void, the lifeless word; + Yet rescued from time's deluge, still they throng + Unseen the Pindus they were wont to cherish: + All, that which gains immortal life in song, + To mortal life must perish! +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + RESIGNATION. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Yes! even I was in Arcadia born, + And, in mine infant ears, + A vow of rapture was by Nature sworn;— + Yes! even I was in Arcadia born, + And yet my short spring gave me only—tears! + + Once blooms, and only once, life's youthful May; + For me its bloom hath gone. + The silent God—O brethren, weep to-day— + The silent God hath quenched my torch's ray, + And the vain dream hath flown. + + Upon thy darksome bridge, Eternity, + I stand e'en now, dread thought! + Take, then, these joy-credentials back from me! + Unopened I return them now to thee, + Of happiness, alas, know naught! + + Before Thy throne my mournful cries I vent, + Thou Judge, concealed from view! + To yonder star a joyous saying went + With judgment's scales to rule us thou art sent, + And call'st thyself Requiter, too! + + Here,—say they,—terrors on the bad alight, + And joys to greet the virtuous spring. + The bosom's windings thou'lt expose to sight, + Riddle of Providence wilt solve aright, + And reckon with the suffering! + + Here to the exile be a home outspread, + Here end the meek man's thorny path of strife! + A godlike child, whose name was Truth, they said, + Known but to few, from whom the many fled, + Restrained the ardent bridle of my life. + + "It shall be thine another life to live,— + Thy youth to me surrender! + To thee this surety only can I give"— + I took the surety in that life to live; + And gave to her each youthful joy so tender. + + "Give me the woman precious to thy heart, + Give up to me thy Laura! + Beyond the grave will usury pay the smart."— + I wept aloud, and from my bleeding heart + With resignation tore her. + + "The obligation's drawn upon the dead!" + Thus laughed the world in scorn; + "The lying one, in league with despots dread, + For truth, a phantom palmed on thee instead, + Thou'lt be no more, when once this dream has gone!" + + Shamelessly scoffed the mockers' serpent-band + "A dream that but prescription can admit + Dost dread? Where now thy God's protecting hand, + (The sick world's Saviour with such cunning planned), + Borrowed by human need of human wit?" + + "What future is't that graves to us reveal? + What the eternity of thy discourse? + Honored because dark veils its form conceal, + The giant-shadows of the awe we feel, + Viewed in the hollow mirror of remorse!" + + "An image false of shapes of living mould, + (Time's very mummy, she!) + Whom only Hope's sweet balm hath power to hold + Within the chambers of the grave so cold,— + Thy fever calls this immortality!" + + "For empty hopes,—corruption gives the lie— + Didst thou exchange what thou hadst surely done? + Six thousand years sped death in silence by,— + His corpse from out the grave e'er mounted high, + That mention made of the Requiting One?" + + I saw time fly to reach thy distant shore, + I saw fair Nature lie + A shrivelled corpse behind him evermore,— + No dead from out the grave then sought to soar + Yet in that Oath divine still trusted I. + + My ev'ry joy to thee I've sacrificed, + I throw me now before thy judgment-throne; + The many's scorn with boldness I've despised,— + Only—thy gifts by me were ever prized,— + I ask my wages now, Requiting One! + + "With equal love I love each child of mine!" + A genius hid from sight exclaimed. + "Two flowers," he cried, "ye mortals, mark the sign,— + Two flowers to greet the Searcher wise entwine,— + Hope and Enjoyment they are named." + + "Who of these flowers plucks one, let him ne'er yearn + To touch the other sister's bloom. + Let him enjoy, who has no faith; eterne + As earth, this truth!—Abstain, who faith can learn! + The world's long story is the world's own doom." + + "Hope thou hast felt,—thy wages, then, are paid; + Thy faith 'twas formed the rapture pledged to thee. + Thou might'st have of the wise inquiry made,— + The minutes thou neglectest, as they fade, + Are given back by no eternity!" +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CONFLICT. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + No! I this conflict longer will not wage, + The conflict duty claims—the giant task;— + Thy spells, O virtue, never can assuage + The heart's wild fire—this offering do not ask + + True, I have sworn—a solemn vow have sworn, + That I myself will curb the self within; + Yet take thy wreath, no more it shall be worn— + Take back thy wreath, and leave me free to sin. + + Rent be the contract I with thee once made;— + She loves me, loves me—forfeit be the crown! + Blessed he who, lulled in rapture's dreamy shade, + Glides, as I glide, the deep fall gladly down. + + She sees the worm that my youth's bloom decays, + She sees my spring-time wasted as it flees; + And, marvelling at the rigor that gainsays + The heart's sweet impulse, my reward decrees. + + Distrust this angel purity, fair soul! + It is to guilt thy pity armeth me; + Could being lavish its unmeasured whole, + It ne'er could give a gift to rival thee! + + Thee—the dear guilt I ever seek to shun, + O tyranny of fate, O wild desires! + My virtue's only crown can but be won + In that last breath—when virtue's self expires! +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE ARTISTS. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + How gracefully, O man, with thy palm-bough, + Upon the waning century standest thou, + In proud and noble manhood's prime, + With unlocked senses, with a spirit freed, + Of firmness mild,—though silent, rich in deed, + The ripest son of Time, + Through meekness great, through precepts strong, + Through treasures rich, that time had long + Hid in thy bosom, and through reason free,— + Master of Nature, who thy fetters loves, + And who thy strength in thousand conflicts proves, + And from the desert soared in pride with thee! + + Flushed with the glow of victory, + Never forget to prize the hand + That found the weeping orphan child + Deserted on life's barren strand, + And left a prey to hazard wild,— + That, ere thy spirit-honor saw the day, + Thy youthful heart watched over silently, + And from thy tender bosom turned away + Each thought that might have stained its purity; + That kind one ne'er forget who, as in sport, + Thy youth to noble aspirations trained, + And who to thee in easy riddles taught + The secret how each virtue might be gained; + Who, to receive him back more perfect still, + E'en into strangers' arms her favorite gave— + Oh, may'st thou never with degenerate will, + Humble thyself to be her abject slave! + In industry, the bee the palm may bear; + In skill, the worm a lesson may impart; + With spirits blest thy knowledge thou dost share, + But thou, O man, alone hast art! + + Only through beauty's morning gate + Didst thou the land of knowledge find. + To merit a more glorious fate, + In graces trains itself the mind. + What thrilled thee through with trembling blessed, + When erst the Muses swept the chord, + That power created in thy breast, + Which to the mighty spirit soared. + + When first was seen by doting reason's ken, + When many a thousand years had passed away, + A symbol of the fair and great e'en then, + Before the childlike mind uncovered lay. + Its blessed form bade us honor virtue's cause,— + The honest sense 'gainst vice put forth its powers, + Before a Solon had devised the laws + That slowly bring to light their languid flowers. + Before Eternity's vast scheme + Was to the thinker's mind revealed, + Was't not foreshadowed in his dream, + Whose eyes explored yon starry field? + + Urania,—the majestic dreaded one, + Who wears a glory of Orions twined + Around her brow, and who is seen by none + Save purest spirits, when, in splendor shrined, + She soars above the stars in pride, + Ascending to her sunny throne,— + Her fiery chaplet lays aside, + And now, as beauty, stands alone; + While, with the Graces' girdle round her cast, + She seems a child, by children understood; + For we shall recognize as truth at last, + What here as beauty only we have viewed. + + When the Creator banished from his sight + Frail man to dark mortality's abode, + And granted him a late return to light, + Only by treading reason's arduous road,— + When each immortal turned his face away, + She, the compassionate, alone + Took up her dwelling in that house of clay, + With the deserted, banished one. + With drooping wing she hovers here + Around her darling, near the senses' land, + And on his prison-walls so drear + Elysium paints with fond deceptive hand. + + While soft humanity still lay at rest, + Within her tender arms extended, + No flame was stirred by bigots' murderous zest, + No guiltless blood on high ascended. + The heart that she in gentle fetters binds, + Views duty's slavish escort scornfully; + Her path of light, though fairer far it winds, + Sinks in the sun-track of morality. + Those who in her chaste service still remain, + No grovelling thought can tempt, no fate affright; + The spiritual life, so free from stain, + Freedom's sweet birthright, they receive again, + Under the mystic sway of holy might. + + The purest among millions, happy they + Whom to her service she has sanctified, + Whose mouths the mighty one's commands convey, + Within whose breasts she deigneth to abide; + Whom she ordained to feed her holy fire + Upon her altar's ever-flaming pyre,— + Whose eyes alone her unveiled graces meet, + And whom she gathers round in union sweet + In the much-honored place be glad + Where noble order bade ye climb, + For in the spirit-world sublime, + Man's loftiest rank ye've ever had! + + Ere to the world proportion ye revealed, + That every being joyfully obeys,— + A boundless structure, in night's veil concealed, + Illumed by naught but faint and languid rays, + A band of phantoms, struggling ceaselessly, + Holding his mind in slavish fetters bound, + Unsociable and rude as be, + Assailing him on every side around,— + Thus seemed to man creation in that day! + United to surrounding forms alone + By the blind chains the passions had put on, + Whilst Nature's beauteous spirit fled away + Unfelt, untasted, and unknown. + + And, as it hovered o'er with parting ray, + Ye seized the shades so neighborly, + With silent hand, with feeling mind, + And taught how they might be combined + In one firm bond of harmony. + The gaze, light-soaring, felt uplifted then, + When first the cedar's slender trunk it viewed; + And pleasingly the ocean's crystal flood + Reflected back the dancing form again. + Could ye mistake the look, with beauty fraught, + That Nature gave to help ye on your way? + The image floating on the billows taught + The art the fleeting shadow to portray. + + From her own being torn apart, + Her phantom, beauteous as a dream, + She plunged into the silvery stream, + Surrendering to her spoiler's art. + Creative power soon in your breast unfolded; + Too noble far, not idly to conceive, + The shadow's form in sand, in clay ye moulded, + And made it in the sketch its being leave. + The longing thirst for action then awoke,— + And from your breast the first creation broke. + + By contemplation captive made, + Ensnared by your discerning eye, + The friendly phantom's soon betrayed + The talisman that roused your ecstasy. + The laws of wonder-working might, + The stores by beauty brought to light, + Inventive reason in soft union planned + To blend together 'neath your forming hand. + The obelisk, the pyramid ascended, + The Hermes stood, the column sprang on high, + The reed poured forth the woodland melody, + Immortal song on victor's deeds attended. + + The fairest flowers that decked the earth, + Into a nosegay, with wise choice combined, + Thus the first art from Nature had its birth; + Into a garland then were nosegays twined, + And from the works that mortal hands had made, + A second, nobler art was now displayed. + The child of beauty, self-sufficient now, + That issued from your hands to perfect day, + Loses the chaplet that adorned its brow, + Soon as reality asserts its sway. + The column, yielding to proportion's chains, + Must with its sisters join in friendly link, + The hero in the hero-band must sink, + The Muses' harp peals forth its tuneful strains. + + The wondering savages soon came + To view the new creation's plan + "Behold!"—the joyous crowds exclaim,— + "Behold, all this is done by man!" + With jocund and more social aim + The minstrel's lyre their awe awoke, + Telling of Titans, and of giant's frays + And lion-slayers, turning, as he spoke, + Even into heroes those who heard his lays. + For the first time the soul feels joy, + By raptures blessed that calmer are, + That only greet it from afar, + That passions wild can ne'er destroy, + And that, when tasted, do not cloy. + + And now the spirit, free and fair, + Awoke from out its sensual sleep; + By you unchained, the slave of care + Into the arms of joy could leap. + Each brutish barrier soon was set at naught, + Humanity first graced the cloudless brow, + And the majestic, noble stranger, thought, + From out the wondering brain sprang boldly now. + Man in his glory stood upright, + And showed the stars his kingly face; + His speaking glance the sun's bright light + Blessed in the realms sublime of space. + Upon the cheek now bloomed the smile, + The voice's soulful harmony + Expanded into song the while, + And feeling swam in the moist eye; + And from the mouth, with spirit teeming o'er, + Jest, sweetly linked with grace, began to pour. + + Sunk in the instincts of the worm, + By naught but sensual lust possessed, + Ye recognized within his breast + Love-spiritual's noble germ; + And that this germ of love so blest + Escaped the senses' abject load, + To the first pastoral song he owed. + Raised to the dignity of thought, + Passions more calm to flow were taught + From the bard's mouth with melody. + The cheeks with dewy softness burned; + The longing that, though quenched, still yearned, + Proclaimed the spirit-harmony. + + The wisest's wisdom, and the strongest's vigor,— + The meekest's meekness, and the noblest's grace, + By you were knit together in one figure, + Wreathing a radiant glory round the place. + Man at the Unknown's sight must tremble, + Yet its refulgence needs must love; + That mighty Being to resemble, + Each glorious hero madly strove; + The prototype of beauty's earliest strain + Ye made resound through Nature's wide domain. + + The passions' wild and headlong course, + The ever-varying plan of fate, + Duty and instinct's twofold force, + With proving mind and guidance straight + Ye then conducted to their ends. + What Nature, as she moves along, + Far from each other ever rends, + Become upon the stage, in song, + Members of order, firmly bound. + Awed by the Furies' chorus dread, + Murder draws down upon its head + The doom of death from their wild sound. + Long e'er the wise to give a verdict dared, + An Iliad had fate's mysteries declared + To early ages from afar; + While Providence in silence fared + Into the world from Thespis' car. + Yet into that world's current so sublime + Your symmetry was borne before its time, + When the dark hand of destiny + Failed in your sight to part by force. + + What it had fashioned 'neath your eye, + In darkness life made haste to die, + Ere it fulfilled its beauteous course. + Then ye with bold and self-sufficient might + Led the arch further through the future's night: + Then, too, ye plunged, without a fear, + Into Avernus' ocean black, + And found the vanished life so dear + Beyond the urn, and brought it back. + A blooming Pollux-form appeared now soon, + On Castor leaning, and enshrined in light— + The shadow that is seen upon the moon, + Ere she has filled her silvery circle bright! + + Yet higher,—higher still above the earth + Inventive genius never ceased to rise: + Creations from creations had their birth, + And harmonies from harmonies. + What here alone enchants the ravished sight, + A nobler beauty yonder must obey; + The graceful charms that in the nymph unite, + In the divine Athene melt away; + The strength with which the wrestler is endowed, + In the god's beauty we no longer find: + The wonder of his time—Jove's image proud— + In the Olympian temple is enshrined. + + The world, transformed by industry's bold hand, + The human heart, by new-born instincts moved, + That have in burning fights been fully proved, + Your circle of creation now expand. + Advancing man bears on his soaring pinions, + In gratitude, art with him in his flight, + And out of Nature's now-enriched dominions + New worlds of beauty issue forth to light. + The barriers upon knowledge are o'erthrown; + The spirit that, with pleasure soon matured, + Has in your easy triumphs been inured + To hasten through an artist-whole of graces, + Nature's more distant columns duly places. + And overtakes her on her pathway lone. + He weighs her now with weights that human are, + Metes her with measures that she lent of old; + While in her beauty's rites more practised far, + She now must let his eye her form behold. + With youthful and self-pleasing bliss, + He lends the spheres his harmony, + And, if he praise earth's edifice, + 'Tis for its wondrous symmetry. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + In all that now around him breathes, + Proportion sweet is ever rife; + And beauty's golden girdle wreathes + With mildness round his path through life; + Perfection blest, triumphantly, + Before him in your works soars high; + Wherever boisterous rapture swells, + Wherever silent sorrow flees, + Where pensive contemplation dwells, + Where he the tears of anguish sees, + Where thousand terrors on him glare, + Harmonious streams are yet behind— + He sees the Graces sporting there, + With feeling silent and refined. + Gentle as beauty's lines together linking, + As the appearances that round him play, + In tender outline in each other sinking, + The soft breath of his life thus fleets away. + His spirit melts in the harmonious sea, + That, rich in rapture, round his senses flows, + And the dissolving thought all silently + To omnipresent Cytherea grows. + Joining in lofty union with the Fates, + On Graces and on Muses calm relying, + With freely-offered bosom he awaits + The shaft that soon against him will be flying + From the soft bow necessity creates. + + Favorites beloved of blissful harmony, + Welcome attendants on life's dreary road, + The noblest and the dearest far that she, + Who gave us life, to bless that life bestowed! + That unyoked man his duties bears in mind, + And loves the fetters that his motions bind, + That Chance with brazen sceptre rules him not,— + For this eternity is now your lot, + Your heart has won a bright reward for this. + That round the cup where freedom flows, + Merrily sport the gods of bliss,— + The beauteous dream its fragrance throws, + For this, receive a loving kiss! + + The spirit, glorious and serene, + Who round necessity the graces trains,— + Who bids his ether and his starry plains + Upon us wait with pleasing mien,— + Who, 'mid his terrors, by his majesty gives joy, + And who is beauteous e'en when seeking to destroy,— + Him imitate, the artist good! + As o'er the streamlet's crystal flood + The banks with checkered dances hover, + The flowery mead, the sunset's light,— + Thus gleams, life's barren pathway over, + Poesy's shadowy world so bright. + In bridal dress ye led us on + Before the terrible Unknown, + Before the inexorable fate, + As in your urns the bones are laid, + With beauteous magic veil ye shade + The chorus dread that cares create. + Thousands of years I hastened through + The boundless realm of vanished time + How sad it seems when left by you— + But where ye linger, how sublime! + + She who, with fleeting wing, of yore + From your creating hand arose in might, + Within your arms was found once more, + When, vanquished by Time's silent flight, + Life's blossoms faded from the cheek, + And from the limbs all vigor went, + And mournfully, with footstep weak, + Upon his staff the gray-beard leant. + Then gave ye to the languishing, + Life's waters from a new-born spring; + Twice was the youth of time renewed, + Twice, from the seeds that ye had strewed. + + When chased by fierce barbarian hordes away, + The last remaining votive brand ye tore + From Orient's altars, now pollution's prey, + And to these western lands in safety bore. + The fugitive from yonder eastern shore, + The youthful day, the West her dwelling made; + And on Hesperia's plains sprang up once more + Ionia's flowers, in pristine bloom arrayed. + Over the spirit fairer Nature shed, + With soft refulgence, a reflection bright, + And through the graceful soul with stately tread + Advanced the mighty Deity of light. + Millions of chains were burst asunder then, + And to the slave then human laws applied, + And mildly rose the younger race of men, + As brethren, gently wandering side by side, + With noble inward ecstasy, + The bliss imparted ye receive, + And in the veil of modesty, + With silent merit take your leave. + If on the paths of thought, so freely given, + The searcher now with daring fortune stands, + And, by triumphant Paeans onward driven, + Would seize upon the crown with dauntless hands— + If he with grovelling hireling's pay + Thinks to dismiss his glorious guide— + Or, with the first slave's-place array + Art near the throne his dream supplied— + Forgive him!—O'er your head to-day + Hovers perfection's crown in pride, + With you the earliest plant Spring had, + Soul-forming Nature first began; + With you, the harvest-chaplet glad, + Perfected Nature ends her plan. + + The art creative, that all-modestly arose + From clay and stone, with silent triumph throws + Its arms around the spirit's vast domain. + What in the land of knowledge the discoverer knows, + He knows, discovers, only for your gain + The treasures that the thinker has amassed, + He will enjoy within your arms alone, + Soon as his knowledge, beauty-ripe at last. + To art ennobled shall have grown,— + Soon as with you he scales a mountain-height, + And there, illumined by the setting sun, + The smiling valley bursts upon his sight. + The richer ye reward the eager gaze + The higher, fairer orders that the mind + May traverse with its magic rays, + Or compass with enjoyment unconfined— + The wider thoughts and feelings open lie + To more luxuriant floods of harmony. + To beauty's richer, more majestic stream,— + The fair members of the world's vast scheme, + That, maimed, disgrace on his creation bring, + He sees the lofty forms then perfecting— + + The fairer riddles come from out the night— + The richer is the world his arms enclose, + The broader stream the sea with which he flows— + The weaker, too, is destiny's blind might— + The nobler instincts does he prove— + The smaller he himself, the greater grows his love. + Thus is he led, in still and hidden race, + By poetry, who strews his path with flowers, + Through ever-purer forms, and purer powers, + Through ever higher heights, and fairer grace. + At length, arrived at the ripe goal of time,— + Yet one more inspiration all-sublime, + Poetic outburst of man's latest youth, + And—he will glide into the arms of truth! + + Herself, the gentle Cypria, + Illumined by her fiery crown, + Then stands before her full-grown son + Unveiled—as great Urania; + The sooner only by him caught, + The fairer he had fled away! + Thus stood, in wonder rapture-fraught, + Ulysses' noble son that day, + When the sage mentor who his youth beguiled; + Herself transfigured as Jove's glorious child! + + Man's honor is confided to your hand,— + There let it well protected be! + It sinks with you! with you it will expand! + Poesy's sacred sorcery + Obeys a world-plan wise and good; + In silence let it swell the flood + Of mighty-rolling harmony. + + By her own time viewed with disdain, + Let solemn truth in song remain, + And let the Muses' band defend her! + In all the fullness of her splendor, + Let her survive in numbers glorious, + More dread, when veiled her charms appear, + And vengeance take, with strains victorious, + On her tormentor's ear! + + The freest mother's children free, + With steadfast countenance then rise + To highest beauty's radiancy, + And every other crown despise! + The sisters who escaped you here, + Within your mother's arms ye'll meet; + What noble spirits may revere, + Must be deserving and complete. + High over your own course of time + Exalt yourselves with pinion bold, + And dimly let your glass sublime + The coming century unfold! + On thousand roads advancing fast + Of ever-rich variety, + With fond embraces meet at last + Before the throne of harmony! + As into seven mild rays we view + With softness break the glimmer white, + As rainbow-beams of sevenfold hue + Dissolve again in that soft light, + In clearness thousandfold thus throw + Your magic round the ravished gaze,— + Into one stream of light thus flow,— + One bond of truth that ne'er decays! +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CELEBRATED WOMAN. + </h2> + <h3> + AN EPISTLE BY A MARRIED MAN—TO A FELLOW-SUFFERER. + </h3> + <p> + [In spite of Mr. Carlyle's assertion of Schiller's "total deficiency in + humor," <a href="#linknote-12" name="linknoteref-12" id="linknoteref-12">12</a> + we think that the following poem suffices to show that he possessed the + gift in no ordinary degree, and that if the aims of a genius so + essentially earnest had allowed him to indulge it he would have justified + the opinion of the experienced Iffland as to his capacities for original + comedy.] + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Can I, my friend, with thee condole?— + Can I conceive the woes that try men, + When late repentance racks the soul + Ensnared into the toils of hymen? + Can I take part in such distress?— + Poor martyr,—most devoutly, "Yes!" + Thou weep'st because thy spouse has flown + To arms preferred before thine own;— + A faithless wife,—I grant the curse,— + And yet, my friend, it might be worse! + Just hear another's tale of sorrow, + And, in comparing, comfort borrow! + + What! dost thou think thyself undone, + Because thy rights are shared with one! + O, happy man—be more resigned, + My wife belongs to all mankind! + My wife—she's found abroad—at home; + But cross the Alps and she's at Rome; + Sail to the Baltic—there you'll find her; + Lounge on the Boulevards—kind and kinder: + In short, you've only just to drop + Where'er they sell the last new tale, + And, bound and lettered in the shop, + You'll find my lady up for sale! + + She must her fair proportions render + To all whose praise can glory lend her;— + Within the coach, on board the boat, + Let every pedant "take a note;" + Endure, for public approbation, + Each critic's "close investigation," + And brave—nay, court it as a flattery— + Each spectacled Philistine's battery. + Just as it suits some scurvy carcase + In which she hails an Aristarchus, + Ready to fly with kindred souls, + O'er blooming flowers or burning coals, + To fame or shame, to shrine or gallows, + Let him but lead—sublimely callous! + A Leipsic man—(confound the wretch!) + Has made her topographic sketch, + A kind of map, as of a town, + Each point minutely dotted down; + Scarce to myself I dare to hint + What this d——d fellow wants to print! + Thy wife—howe'er she slight the vows— + Respects, at least, the name of spouse; + But mine to regions far too high + For that terrestrial name is carried; + My wife's "The famous Ninon!"—I + "The gentleman that Ninon married!" + + It galls you that you scarce are able + To stake a florin at the table— + Confront the pit, or join the walk, + But straight all tongues begin to talk! + O that such luck could me befall, + Just to be talked about at all! + Behold me dwindling in my nook, + Edged at her left,—and not a look! + A sort of rushlight of a life, + Put out by that great orb—my wife! + + Scarce is the morning gray—before + Postman and porter crowd the door; + No premier has so dear a levee— + She finds the mail-bag half its trade; + My God—the parcels are so heavy! + And not a parcel carriage-paid! + But then—the truth must be confessed— + They're all so charmingly addressed: + Whate'er they cost, they well requite her— + "To Madame Blank, the famous writer!" + Poor thing, she sleeps so soft! and yet + 'Twere worth my life to spare her slumber; + "Madame—from Jena—the Gazette— + The Berlin Journal—the last number!" + Sudden she wakes; those eyes of blue + (Sweet eyes!) fall straight—on the Review! + I by her side—all undetected, + While those cursed columns are inspected; + Loud squall the children overhead, + Still she reads on, till all is read: + At last she lays that darling by, + And asks—"What makes the baby cry?" + + Already now the toilet's care + Claims from her couch the restless fair; + The toilet's care!—the glass has won + Just half a glance, and all is done! + A snappish—pettish word or so + Warns the poor maid 'tis time to go:— + Not at her toilet wait the Graces + Uncombed Erynnys takes their places; + So great a mind expands its scope + Far from the mean details of—soap! + + Now roll the coach-wheels to the muster— + Now round my muse her votaries cluster; + Spruce Abbe Millefleurs—Baron Herman— + The English Lord, who don't know German,— + But all uncommonly well read + From matchless A to deathless Z! + Sneaks in the corner, shy and small, + A thing which men the husband call! + While every fop with flattery fires her, + Swears with what passion he admires her.— + "'Passion!' 'admire!' and still you're dumb?" + Lord bless your soul, the worst's to come:— + + I'm forced to bow, as I'm a sinner,— + And hope—the rogue will stay to dinner! + But oh, at dinner!—there's the sting; + I see my cellar on the wing! + You know if Burgundy is dear?— + Mine once emerged three times a year;— + And now to wash these learned throttles, + In dozens disappear the bottles; + They well must drink who well do eat + (I've sunk a capital on meat). + Her immortality, I fear, a + Death-blow will prove to my Madeira; + It has given, alas! a mortal shock + To that old friend—my Steinberg hock! <a href="#linknote-13" + name="linknoteref-13" id="linknoteref-13">13</a> + + If Faust had really any hand + In printing, I can understand + The fate which legends more than hint;— + The devil take all hands that print! + + And what my thanks for all?—a pout— + Sour looks—deep sighs; but what about? + About! O, that I well divine— + That such a pearl should fall to swine— + That such a literary ruby + Should grace the finger of a booby! + + Spring comes;—behold, sweet mead and lea + Nature's green splendor tapestries o'er; + Fresh blooms the flower, and buds the tree; + Larks sing—the woodland wakes once more. + The woodland wakes—but not for her! + From Nature's self the charm has flown; + No more the Spring of earth can stir + The fond remembrance of our own! + The sweetest bird upon the bough + Has not one note of music now; + And, oh! how dull the grove's soft shade, + Where once—(as lovers then)—we strayed! + The nightingales have got no learning— + Dull creatures—how can they inspire her? + The lilies are so undiscerning, + They never say—"how they admire her!" + + In all this jubilee of being, + Some subject for a point she's seeing— + Some epigram—(to be impartial, + Well turned)—there may be worse in Martial! + + But, hark! the goddess stoops to reason:— + "The country now is quite in season, + I'll go!"—"What! to our country seat?" + "No!—Travelling will be such a treat; + Pyrmont's extremely full, I hear; + But Carlsbad's quite the rage this year!" + Oh yes, she loves the rural Graces; + Nature is gay—in watering-places! + Those pleasant spas—our reigning passion— + Where learned Dons meet folks of fashion; + Where—each with each illustrious soul + Familiar as in Charon's boat, + All sorts of fame sit cheek-by-jowl, + Pearls in that string—the table d'hote! + Where dames whom man has injured—fly, + To heal their wounds or to efface, them; + While others, with the waters, try + A course of flirting,—just to brace them! + + Well, there (O man, how light thy woes + Compared with mine—thou need'st must see!) + My wife, undaunted, greatly goes— + And leaves the orphans (seven!!!) to me! + + O, wherefore art thou flown so soon, + Thou first fair year—Love's honeymoon! + All, dream too exquisite for life! + Home's goddess—in the name of wife! + Reared by each grace—yet but to be + Man's household Anadyomene! + With mind from which the sunbeams fall, + Rejoice while pervading all; + Frank in the temper pleased to please— + Soft in the feeling waked with ease. + So broke, as native of the skies, + The heart-enthraller on my eyes; + So saw I, like a morn of May, + The playmate given to glad my way; + With eyes that more than lips bespoke, + Eyes whence—sweet words—"I love thee!" broke! + So—Ah, what transports then were mine! + I led the bride before the shrine! + And saw the future years revealed, + Glassed on my hope—one blooming field! + More wide, and widening more, were given + The angel-gates disclosing heaven; + Round us the lovely, mirthful troop + Of children came—yet still to me + The loveliest—merriest of the group + The happy mother seemed to be! + Mine, by the bonds that bind us more + Than all the oaths the priest before; + Mine, by the concord of content, + When heart with heart is music-blent; + When, as sweet sounds in unison, + Two lives harmonious melt in one! + When—sudden (O the villain!)—came + Upon the scene a mind profound!— + A bel esprit, who whispered "Fame," + And shook my card-house to the ground. + + What have I now instead of all + The Eden lost of hearth and hall? + What comforts for the heaven bereft? + What of the younger angel's left? + A sort of intellectual mule, + Man's stubborn mind in woman's shape, + Too hard to love, too frail to rule— + A sage engrafted on an ape! + To what she calls the realm of mind, + She leaves that throne, her sex, to crawl, + The cestus and the charm resigned— + A public gaping-show to all! + She blots from beauty's golden book + A name 'mid nature's choicest few, + To gain the glory of a nook + In Doctor Dunderhead's Review. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WRITTEN IN A YOUNG LADY'S ALBUM. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Sweet friend, the world, like some fair infant blessed, + Radiant with sportive grace, around thee plays; + Yet 'tis not as depicted in thy breast— + Not as within thy soul's fair glass, its rays + Are mirrored. The respectful fealty + That my heart's nobleness hath won for thee, + The miracles thou workest everywhere, + The charms thy being to this life first lent,— + To it, mere charms to reckon thou'rt content, + To us, they seem humanity so fair. + The witchery sweet of ne'er-polluted youth, + The talisman of innocence and truth— + Him I would see, who these to scorn can dare! + Thou revellest joyously in telling o'er + The blooming flowers that round thy path are strown,— + The glad, whom thou hast made so evermore,— + The souls that thou hast conquered for thine own. + In thy deceit so blissful be thou glad! + Ne'er let a waking disenchantment sad + Hurl thee despairing from thy dream's proud flight! + Like the fair flowerets that thy beds perfume, + Observe them, but ne'er touch them as they bloom,— + Plant them, but only for the distant sight. + Created only to enchant the eye, + In faded beauty at thy feet they'll lie, + The nearer thee, the nearer their long night! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +FOOTNOTES: + + <a href="#linknoteref-9" name="linknote-9" id="linknote-9">9</a> This concluding and fine strophe is omitted in the later editions + of Schiller's "Poems." + + <a href="#linknoteref-10" name="linknote-10" id="linknote-10">10</a> Hercules who recovered from the Shades Alcestis, after she had + given her own life to save her husband, Admetus. Alcestis, in the hands + of Euripides (that woman-hater as he is called!) becomes the loveliest + female creation in the Greek drama. + + <a href="#linknoteref-11" name="linknote-11" id="linknote-11">11</a> i. e. Castor and Pollux are transferred to the stars, Hercules to + Olympus, for their deeds on earth. + + <a href="#linknoteref-12" name="linknote-12" id="linknote-12">12</a> Carlyle's Miscellanies, vol. iii, p. 47. + + <a href="#linknoteref-13" name="linknote-13" id="linknote-13">13</a> Literally "Nierensteiner,"—a wine not much known in England, + and scarcely—according to our experience—worth the regrets of its + respectable owner. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Poems of The Second Period, by Friedrich Schiller + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS OF THE SECOND PERIOD *** + +***** This file should be named 6795-h.htm or 6795-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/6/7/9/6795/ + +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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