I.ovclv children large and small
All the luur our hearts enthrall.
IX vc Distichs, awake Lovely the Columbine stands and hangs his
" Ye lively youths in radiant head down :
your joyance ! ! Petulance is it, or pride? Answer me now
Rich are gardens and
fields! Bring vc blos-
soms for wreaths.
Rich is the meadow in flowers; yet the eye
cannot claim all their beauty.
if vou can !
Many odorous bells thou swingest, O Hyacinth.
Yet nor fragrance or bells have the gift to
Others bloom for the heart. Reader, now ir . ,
for thrairi ! Hesl,crus! ll*c garish day men pass
choose for thyself!
When the nightingale sings, then thy glory
Rosebud thou art the flower of the maiden,
rosv and blooming;
Symbol of queenly guise, symbol of modest : Thou> Tuberose, art haughty, and thou rcjoicest
Violets clusterd together and bound in a del-
Making one flower; tis thou, home-loving
maiden, I mean !
One whom I knew, like a lily was slender.
Purity clothd her
Pridelike. Such splendor of garb Solomon
sure never saw.
Yetaway from my sight! Come not nigh
to my heart!
Glowing the Poppy I see in the distance;
when I come nearer,
Ah then I learn thee too late thou that
apest the Rose.
Tulips, I know ye are scornd by those who
take pride in aesthetics;
Courage! a thought thats robust needs a
Pinks! how lovely ye are! Yet ye all re-
semble each other.
Who can distinguish? Not I! How then,
pray, can 1 choose ?
Flush with the colors of dawn Ranunculus,
Tulips and Asters!
Here is a dark fragrant flower, puts you all
to the blush.
Crowsfoot! none of thy sisters attract me;
desire ye awake not;
Yet, commingled in beds, pleasure ye give ;
to the eye. |
Tell me what perfumes the chamber? Mignon- j
ette, fragrant and pleasing, |
Colorless, shapeless and still, modest and
Ornament fit for the garden, whereer thou
appearest, thou savest:
'Ceres, the Queen, with her hand scatterd
me forth with the grain.
Sweetest of dainty flowers! thy eyes so tender
Always, Forget-me-not! always, For-
get not thy friend !
If from the eye of the mind the forms of the
flowers should all vanish,
Kleonore thy face wouldst ever remain in
TERRIBLE, Love shows himself untome!
Ye Muses, awaken
Harmonies out of the pain stirrd by the God
in my heart.
Written scrolls I possess which scholars and
monarchs might covet.
For my beloved she writes words that I turn .
into verse! j
As in Winter the grain only slowly sprouts, but
Hastens to push into bloom, so was my yearn-
ing for thee!
Ever it seemd to me that forests, fields, moun-
tains and gardens
Were but symbols of space; Love, thou
makest them real.
Space and Time to my mind are idle phantoms
of fancy; j
lint the corner with thee, dearest, seems j
without bounds. !
Care, she sits in the saddle with thee; she em- i
barks in the vessel. j
Zealous is Care, but Love follows us up with
more zeal. j
Hard is the conquest of Passion, but if she be
strengthend by Custom,
Ancient allv and friend, shes an invincible
What is the scroll that twice and thrice I read j
in succession ?
Manuscripts sent by my love, written warm
from her heart.
Think you an epigram short to express a senti-
ment for thee ?
Why, Love, how can that be! Isnt a kiss
far more short ?
Knowst thou, O friend, the splendid poison
of love unrequited ?
burning, it gives fresh strength; wasting the
flesh it renews.
Knowst thou the splendid working of love
that has found its ideal?
bodies it binds in sweet union, spirits are
True love is that which always and ever re-
mains without changing
"When it is granted all, all things being de-
She is my joy, but perchance she deceives me.
O poets and singers,
Mimics! much ye might learn, knowing my ;
sweetheart, my love ! j
All the joy of the poet in shaping his verse to j
Svmpathizing Love, that inspird him, feels.
All the world I would like, so all to share with
my darling ;
All the world would I give, if she were only
When a loving heart is paind and must suffer
Rhadamanthus himself could not imagine
'Why do I fade so soon. O Zeus? askd
Beauty in sorrow. I
Ah, said the father of gods, only the j
Love and youth and the dew and the (lowers
heard the hard saying;
iVll turnd their faces away, weeping, from
Live while we may and love; for life and love
are both fleeting.
Fate, thou cuttest the threads! Both must
come to an end !
.< . A-S>
LIFK brings fruits unto man! Vet rarely
they hang from the branches,
Rosy and bright in the sun, greeting,, like
apples, the eye.
Hold the staff of direction oer life and all its
Leave unto Love and the Muse chance for
Preach, for it scemeth you well; we also honor \
Yet will the Muse not allow orders peremp-
Seize the lighted torch from Prometheus, O
Muse, and inspire us!
Seize it from Love, and torment us with
All creation is Natures work. From Zeus on
Flashes the wonderful bolt, building and
crushing the world.
Brothers! do all that ye do with zeal and with
love. Both are virtues
Lovely for German hearts, easily turnd from
Children toss the ball to the wall and catch it
This is a game that I like playd by the
friend of my choice.
Kver strive for the whole, and if the whole
should escape thee,
Be, as thou canst, a part useful in forming
Knowledge of self is fine, yet when one is
treasurd by others,
Object of honor and love, is it not better
What controls the youth, holds the man, em-
braces the graybeard,
That be thy portion of joy all thy life, lovely
Willingly age clings to youth, and youth for
age has affection;
Yet all over the world like is attra&ed bv
Keep in thy heart the vision of worthies: bright
Nature scatterd them forth, out of meas-
Who is the luckiest man? Tis he who has
wisdom to welcome
Sendee of others and feel joy like his own
in his friends.
Time gives us much and robs us of much; but
the love of thy betters,
Graciously bestowed, ever should be thy de-
Were ye, foolish dreamers, able to grasp your
Honor to Nature yed pay as her merits de-
Honest friend, I will tell thee what thou canst
safely believe in:
Life is the only thing teaching better than
Evry blossom must fall before the fruit will \
Blossoms and fruit at once only the Muses
Truth that hurts I prefer to falsehood giving !
Truth, it assuages the pain which perchance ,
it lias causd.
Does an error hurt? Not always; but making ,
Always hurts, and how sore only the sequel !
Never so dear to us seem as our own the chil-
dren of others;
Error, the child of our hearts, claims so
much of our love.
Error is ever at hand. Yet a higher necessity
Gently and steadily on, strive as we will, ,
towards Truth. ;
No one resembles another, yet each resembles j
the Highest. _ 1
How can this be explaind? Each is com-
plete in himself!
Why are Genius and Taste so seldom blended
in union ?
Genius hates the curb; Taste is timid at
Helpless for moving the world are all the dis- ,
courses of Reason;
Impotent also is she, crushd in the pres-
ence of Art.
Whom do I wish for a reader? He who is
freest from bias,
Losing himself and the world, living alone
in my book.
He is my dearest friend who walks with me as
If he invite me to sit, forth I wander alone.
Ah, how it goes to mv heart, that this most
Bent on seeking the goal, uses me as a
Praise the child for the toys on which it squan-
ders its pennies
Recklessly Truth, thou wilt be godlike to
trader and child.
What is the method of Nature in joining the
good and the evil,
Forming man? She thrusts vanity deftly
In susceptible people no good have I ever dis-
Give them only the chance, rascals they
Gallomania checks in this degenerate epoch
Peaceful culture as once Lutheranism did.
Whatever in France is past the Germans take
up and encourage;
For the proudest man flatters the rabble and
Darest thou call it the rabble? Where is
the rabble? The people,
Could ye get your own way, soon a rabble
Wherever parties arise each holds itself this
side and that side;
Many years will elapse ere their centres unite.
"Those men there are starting a party ; what
a ridiculous notion !
Jiui our party indeed That is a different
J .XX 111.
Son. wilt thou always he free? then learn
something useful, remaining
Quite content with thy lot, never aspiring
too high. i
Spirits in sympathy close, union of soul
Who is the worthiest man in the state? A
Under whatever rule he is the solidest prop.
Who then is really a prince? My own ob-
servation has taught me
Who is the nobler man in evrystation? Who-
Gives impartial advice, scorning advantage
Knowst thou how even the small may be
great? By doing their duty,
Small though it be; the great needs must do i
just the same.
What is holy? Tis that which binds many
spirits in union.
Bond, though ever so slight, like the grass on
What is the holiest? That which binds to-day
He alone is a prince who has it in him
Wisdom failing in rulers, right good-will in
Force must grasp the helm, else will des-
Many states have I seen, and that stands high
Where the rulers must serve, leaving to
ethers the gain.
Only let every being fairly use his advan-
; Granting to others their share; then will
I peace ever reign.
But if none is content with the share that
Fate has allotted,
Then is the train ready laid always and ever
Twain are the methods of speaking the truth
if truth be unwelcome :
Frankly that people may know, secretly
unto the prince.
If thou findest fault with the individual loudly,
He will harden his heart as the throng do
Thou art monarch and knight and thou canst
rule and do battle;
But if treaties are made call the chancellors
Wise, industrious, firm, acquainted with all,
High and low alike, thus the minister
What is the courtier I honor? The keenest and
Yet that he fails to possess comes to his ser-
vice as man.
Whether thou art the wisest or not who gives
an opinion ?
But be the upright man both at home
Whether thou wakest or not we care not, pro-
vided thou singest.
Sing, O watchman, thy song, sleeping, as
Now, 0 Autumn, thou strewest only yellowing
Give me another year full-ripend fruit
WATER is body and substance in flux.
The stage that is newest
Shines in the glow of the sun held by the
Truly it seems like a vision Life in signifi-
Hovers earnest and fair over the far-gleam-
Countless centuries frozen, like ice, stretch off
in our vision ;
Reason and Sympathy glide dim in the
Only the level plain conditions the whirl of
If it be smooth we all reck not of danger
All are striving and hasting, seeking and flee-
ing each other;
Yet our courses are fixd over the slippery
Hither and thither they glide, the pupils and
And the common folk holding the middle
Every one must show what he can; not praise
and not glory
Kept this man from the goal, drove that
other one on.
You who praise the bungler, the Masters de-
tractors, I see you,
Dumb with impotent rage, standing here on
a*- ^ UUfeg :
The Four Seasons.
Novice thou totterest clumsily shunning, the
Keep up thy heart thou wilt be soon the
pride of the course.
Wilt thou already show prowess, and art not
confident ? Nonsense !
Only from well-poisd force gleams true
Falls are the fortune of man ; the pupil must
fall, and the master
Also will meet with mishaps; let him be-
ware how he strikes.
If the skilful lest skater but fall, the idle spec-
I.augh, as over their cups men boast of
whipping their foes.
Clide away joyfully, giving advice to the
Take full pride in thy leadership, joy in the
See! already the Spring is at hand. The
Waste the ice from below, gentler sunbeams
This generation is vanishd, scatterd the
Fishers and sailors once more claim the
Swim, thou wonderful floe, away, and if thou
Join the sea as a floe, drop by drop thou
Lovingly I'll sing of love;
Kvu- Comes .she from alcove.
THE ERIEXDI.Y MEETIXG.
XROBI) with mantle to my chin conceald,
I trod the rocky path, so steep and gray,
Then to the wintry plain I bent my way
Uneasily, to flight my bosom steeld.
But sudden was the newborn day reveald :
A maiden came, in heavenly bright array,
Like the fair creatures of the poets lay
In realms of song. Mv yearning heart was
Yet turnd I thence, till she had onward
While closer still the folds to draw I tried,
As though with heat self-kindled to
grow warm ;
But followd her. She stood. The die was
No more within my mantle could I hide;
I threw it off,she lay within mine arm.
IN A WORD.
TillS to be chaind forever can I bear?
A very torment that, in truth, would be.
This very day my new resolve shall see,
Ill not go near the hitely-worshippd lair.
Yet what excuse, my heart, can I prepare
In such a case, for not consulting thee ?
But courage! while our sorrows utter we
In tones where love, grief, gladness have a
But see the minstrels bidding to obey,
Its melody pours forth the sounding lyre,
Yearning a sacrifice of love to bring.
Scarce wouldst thou think itready is the lay;
Well, but what then? Methought in the first
We to her presence flew, that lay to sing.
O'ER field and plain, in childhoods artless
Thou sprangst with me, on many a spring-
For such a daughter, with what pleasing care,
Would I, as father, happy dwellings raise!
And when thou on the world didst cast thy
Thv joy was then in household toils to share.
Why did I trust her, why she trust me eer?
For such a sister, how I Heaven should
Nothing can now the beauteous growth retard;
Loves glowing flame within my breast is
i Shall I embrace her form, my grief to end?
Thee as a queen must I, alas, regard:
So high above me placd thou seemst to
Before a passing look I meekly bend.
THE MAIDEN SPEAKS.
HOW grave thou lookest, lovd one! where-
Thy marble image seems a type of thee;
Like it, no sign of life thou givst to me;
Compard with thee, the stone appears to
FOOD IN TRAVEL.
IF to her eyes bright lustre I were blind,
No longer would they serve my life to gild
I The will of destiny must be fulfilld,
! This knowing, I withdrew with saddend mind
Behind his shield in ambush lurks the foe, !
The friends brow all-unruffled we should
I seek thee, but thou seekst away to flee;
Fixd as this sculpturd figure, learn to grow! .
Tell me, to which should I the preference pay?
Must I from both with coldness meet alone?
The one is lifeless, thou with life art blessd. i
No further happiness I now could find;
The former longings of my heart were stilld;
I sought her looks alone, whereon to build
Mv joy in life,all else was left behind.
Wines genial glow, the festal banquet gay,
Ease, sleep, and friends, all wonted pleasures
I spurnd, till little there remaind to prove.
In short, no longer to throw words away,
Ill fondly kiss and kiss and kiss this stone,
Till thou dost tear me hence with envious
, Now calmly through the world I wend my way:
j That which I crave may everywhere be had,
With me I bring the one thing needful
WITH many a thousand kiss not yet con-
At length with One kiss I was forcd to go; i
After that bitter partings depth of woe,
I deemd the shore from which my steps I bent,
Its hills, streams, dwellings, mountains, as I j
A pledge of joy, till daylight ceasd to glow; i
Then on my sight did blissful visions grow
In the dim-lighted, distant firmament. j
And when at length the sea confind my gaze, \
My ardent longing filld my heart once
What I had lost, unwillingly I sought.
Till: I.OYIXG ONli WRITES.
THE look that thy sweet eyes on mine im-
The pledge thy lips to mine convey,the
He who, like me, hath knowledge sure of this,
Can he in aught beside find happiness?
Removd from thee, friend-sever'd, in distress,
These thoughts I vainly struggle to dismiss:
They still return to that one hour of bliss,
'Hie only one; then tears my grief confess.
But unawares the tear makes haste to dry:
He loves, methinks, een to these glades so
And slialt not thou to distant lands extend?
Receive the murmurs of this loving sigh ;
My only joy on earth is in thy will,
Thy kindly will towrd me; a token send!
Then Heaven appeard to shed its kindly rays;
Methought that all I had possessd of yore
Remaind still minethat I was reft of nought.
I 2 T
THE LOVING ONE ONCE
WHY do I oer my paper once more bend P
A>k not too closely, dearest one, I pray:
For, to speak truth, Ive nothing now
Yet to thy hands at length twill come, dear
Since I can come not with it, what I send
My undivided heart shall now convey,
With all its joys, hopes, pleasures, pains, to-
All this hath no beginning, hath no end.
Henceforward I may neer to thee confide
How, far as thought, wish, fancy, will, can
My faithful heart with thine is surely blended.
Thus stood I once enrapturd by thy side,
Gazd on thee, and said nought. What
need of speech?
My very being in itself was ended.
SHE CANNOT END.
WHEN unto thee I sent the page all white,
Instead of first thereon inscribing aught,
The space thou doubtless filledst up in
And sent it me, to make my joy grow bright.
As soon as the blue cover met my sight,
As well becomes a woman, quick as thought
I tore it open, leaving hidden nought,
And read the well-known words of pure de-
Mv only m:iNo Dearest heart! Sweet
How kindly thou my yearning then didst
With gentle words, enthralling me to thee.
In truth methought I read thy whispers mild
Wherewith thou lovingly my soul didst fill,
Een to myself for aye ennobling me.
WHEN through the nations stalks conta-
We from them cautiously should steal away.
Een I have oft with lingring and delay
Shunnd many an influence, not to be defild.
And een though Amor oft my hours beguild.
At length with him preferrd I not to play,
And so, too, with the wretched sons of
Y hen four and three-lind verses they com-
But punishment pursues the scoffer straight,
As if by serpent-torch of furies led
From hill to vale, from land to sea to fly.
I hear the genies laughter at my fate)
Yet do I find all power of thinking fled
In sonnet-rage and loves fierce ecstasy.
THIS box, mine own sweet darling, thou
With many a varied sweetmeats form sup-
The fruits are they of holy Christmas tide,
But bakd indeed, for childrens use designd.
Id fain, in speeches sweet with skill com-
Poetic sweetmeats for the feast provide;
But why in such frivolities confide?
Perish the thought, with flattery to blind !
One sweet thing there is still, that from within,
Within us speaks.that may be felt afar;
This may be wafted oer to thee alone.
If thou a recollection fond oanst win,
As if with pleasure gleamd each well-known
The smallest gift thou never wilt disown.
HEN sounds the trumpet at the Judgment-
And when forever all things earthly die,
We must a full and true account supply
Of evry useless word we droppd in play.
But what effect will all the words convey
Wherein with eager zeal and lovingly,
That I might win thy favor, labord I,
If on thine ear alone they die away ?
Therefore, sweet love, thy conscience bear in
Remember well how long thou hast delayd,
So that the world such sufferings may not
If I must reckon, and excuses find
For all things useless I to thee have said,
To a full year the Judgment-Day will grow.
THE DOUBTERS AND THE
YE love, and sonnets write Fates strange
The heart, its hidden meaning to declare,
Must seek for rhymes, uniting pair with pair:
Learn, children, that the will is weak, at best.
Scarcely with freedom the oerflowing breast
As yet can speak, and well may it beware;
Tempestuous passions sweep each chord thats
Then once more sink to night and gentle rest.
Why vex yourselves and us, the heavy stone
Up the steep path but step by step to roll?
It falls again, and ye neer cease to strive.
But we are on the proper road alone !
If gladly is to thaw the frozen soul
The fire of love must aye be kept alive.
ON Petrarchs heart, all other days before,
In flaming letters written, was impressd
Good Friday. And on mine, be it con-
Is this years Advent, as it passeth oer.
I do not now begin,I still adore
Her whom I early cherishd in my breast,
Then once again with prudence dispossessd,
And to whose heart Im driven back once
'The love of Petrarch, that all-glorious love,
Was unrequited, and, alas, full sad ;
One long Good Friday twas, one heartache
But may my mistress Advent ever prove,
With its palm-jubilee, so sweet and glad,
One endless Mayday, through the livelong
TWO words there are, both short, of beauty
Whose sounds our lips so often love to
But which with clearness never can pro-
The things whose own peculiar stamp they
Tis well in days of age and youth so fair
One on the other boldly to inflame ;
And if those words together linkd we name,
A blissful rapture we discover there.
But now to give them pleasure do I seek:
And in myself my happiness would find ;
I hope in silence, but I hope for this:
Gently, as lovd ones names, those words to
To see them both within one image shrind,
Both in one being to embrace with bliss.
In the wares Irefoic you spread,
Types of all things may be read.
THE GERMAN PARNASSUS.
!>1\|KATH the shadow
IN Of these bushes,
On the meadow
Where the cooling water gushes,
Pluebus gave me, when a boy,
All lifes fulness to enjoy.
So, in silence, as the God
Bade them with his sovreign nod,
Sacred Muses traind my days
To his praise,
With the bright and silvrv flood
Of Parnassus stirrd my blood,
And the seal so pure and chaste
By them on my lips was placd.
With her modest pinions, see,
Philomel encircles me !
In these bushes, in yon grove,
Calls she to her sister-throng,
.And their heavenly choral song
Teaches me to dream of love.
Fulness waxes in my breast
Of emotions social, blessd ;
Friendships nurturd,love awakes,
And the silence Phoebus breaks
Of his mountains, of bis vales,
Sweetly blow the balmy gales;
All for whom he shows affedtion,
Who are worth)' his protection,
Gladly follow his direction.
This one comes with joyous bearing
And with open, radiant gaze ;
That a sterner look is wearing.
This one, scarcely cured, with daring
Wakes the strength of former days;
For the sweet, destructive flame
Piercd his marrow and his frame.
That which Amor stole before
Phtebus only can restore,
Peace, and joy, and harmony,
Aspirations pure and free.
Brethren, rise ye !
Numbers prize ye \
Deeds of worth resemble they.
Who can better than the bard
Guide a friend when gone astray?
If his duty lie regard
More liell do than others may.
Yes afar I hear them sing !
Yes I hear them touch the string,
And with mighty godlike stroke
Right and duty they inspire,
As they sing, and wake the lyre,
Tendencies of noblest worth
To each type of strength give birth.
Phantasies of sweetest power
Round about on evrv bough,
lake the magic wood of old,
Neath the fruit that gleams like gold.
What we feel and what we view
In the land of highest bliss,
This dear soil, a sun like this,
Imres the best of women too.
And the Muses breathings blessd
Rouse the maidens gentle breast,
ARTIST : W FRIEDRICH.
TITE GERMAN PARNASSUS
Tune the throat to minstrelsy,
And with cheeks of beauteous dye,
Bid it sing a worthy song,
Sit the sister-band among;
And their strains grow softer still
As they vie with earnest will.
One amongst the band betimes
Goes to wander
By the beeches, neath the limes,
Yonder seeking, finding yonder
That which in the morning-grove
She had lost through roguish Love,
All her breasts first aspirations,
And her hearts calm meditations.
To the shady wood so fair
Takes she that which man can neer
Duly merit,each soft feeling,
Disregards the noontide ray
And the dew at close of day,
In the plain her path she loses.
Neer disturb her on her way!
Seek her silently, ye Muses!
Shouts I hear wherein the sound
Of the waterfall is drownd.
From the grove loud clamors rise ;
Strange the tumult, strange the cries.
See I rightly? Can it be?
To the very sandtuary,
Lo, an impious troop in-hies!
Oer the land
Streams the band;
In their gaze
Makes their hair
And the troop,
With fell swoop,
Ply their blows
Void of shame,
All the frame.
Fierce and hot,
Strike with fear
On the ear;
All they slay
On their way.
Oer the land
Pours the band;
All take flight
At their sight.
Ah, oer evry plant they rush]
Ah, their cruel footsteps crush
All the flowers that fill their path !
Who will dare to stem their wrath ?
Brethren, let us venture all!
Virtue in your pure cheek glows.
Phoebus will attend our call
When he sees our heavy woes;
And that we may have aright
Weapons suited to the fight,
He the mountain shaketh now
From its brow
Stone on stone
Through the thicket spread appear.
Brethren, seize them Wherefore fear ?
Now the villain crew assail
As though with a storm of hail,
And expel the strangers wild
From these regions soft and mild
Where the sun has ever smild!
What strange wonder do I see ?
Can it be?
All my limbs of power are reft,
And all strength my hand has left.
Can it be?
None are strangers that I see !
And our brethren tis who go
On before, the way to show !
Oh, the reckless impious ones!
How they, with their jarring tones,
Beat the time as on they hie !
Quick, my brethren !let us fly !
To the rash ones, yet a word !
Ay, my voice shall now be heard
As a peal of thunder, strong!
Words as poets arms were made,
When the god will be obeyd,
Follow fast his darts ere long.
Was it possible that ye
Thus your godlike dignity
Should forget ? The Thyrsus rude
Must a heavy burden feel
To the hand but wont to steal
Oer the lyre in gentle mood.
From the sparkling waterfalls,
From the brook that purling calls,
Shall Silenus loathsome beast
Be allowd at will to feast?
Aganippes wave he sips
With profane and spreading lips,
With ungainly feet stamps madly,
Till the waters flow on sadly.
Fain Id think myself deluded
In the saddning sounds I hear;
From the holy glades secluded
Hateful tones assail the ear.
Laughter wild (exchange how mournful!)
Takes the place of loves sweet dream;
Women-haters and the scornful
In exulting chorus scream.
Nightingale and turtle-dove
Fly their nests so warm and chaste,
And, inflamd with sensual love,
Holds the Faun the Nymph embracd.
Here a garments torn away,
Scoffs succeed their sated bliss,
While the god, with angry ray,
Looks upon each impious kiss.
Vapor, smoke, as from a fire,
And advancing clouds I view;
Chords not only grace the lyre,
For the bow its chords hath too.
Even the adorers heart
Dreads the wild advancing band,
For the flames that round them dart
Show the fierce destroyers hand.
Oh, negledt not what I say,
For I speak it lovingly!
From our boundaries haste away,
From the gods dread anger fly!
Cleanse once more the holy place,
Turn the savage train aside!
Earth contains upon its face
Many a spot unsandtified ;
Here we only prize the good.
Stars unsullied round us burn.
If ye, in repentant mood,
From your wanderings would return,-
If ye fail to find the bliss
That ye found with us of yore,
Or when lawless mirth like this
Gives your hearts delight no more,
Then return in pilgrim guise,
Gladly up the mountain go,
While your strains repentant rise,
And our brethrens advent show.
Let a new-born wreath entwine
Solemnly your temples round ;
Rapture glows in hearts divine
When a long-lost sinners found.
Swifter een than Lethes flood
Round Deaths silent house can play
Evry error of the good
Will loves chalice wash away.
All will haste your steps to meet
As ye come in majesty,
Men your blessing will entreat;
Ours ye thus will doubly be!
SEE the rock-born stream !
Like the gleam
Of a star so bright!
High above the clouds
Nourishd him while youthful
In the copse between the cliffs.
Young and fresh,
From the clouds he danceth
Down upon the marble rocks;
Then towrd heaven
Through the mountain-passes
Chaseth he the colord pebbles,
And, advancing like a chief,
Tears his brother streamlets with him
In his course.
In the valley down below
Neath his footsteps spring the flowers,
And the meadow
In his breath finds life.
Yet no shady vale can stay him
Nor can flowers,
Round his knees all-softly twining,
With their loving eyes detain him;
To the plain his course he taketh,
Join his waters. And now moves he
Oer the plain in silvry glory,
And the plain in him exults,
And the rivers from the plain,
And the streamlets from the mountain,
Shout with joy, exclaiming: Brother,
Brother, take thy brethren with thee,
With thee to thine aged father,
To the everlasting ocean,
Who, with arms outstretching far,
Waiteth for us;
Ah, in vain those arms lie open
To embrace his yearning children;
For the thirsty sand consumes us
In the desert waste; the sunbeams
Drink our life-blood ; hills around us
Into lakes would dam us! Brother,
Take thy brethren of the plain,
Take thy brethren of the mountain
With thee, to thy fathers arms!
Let all come, then !
And now swells he
Lordlier still; yea, een a people
Bears his regal flood on high !
And in triumph onward rolling
Names to countries gives he,cities
Spring to light beneath his foot.
Ever, ever, on he rushes,
Leaves the towers flame-tippd summits,
Marble palaces, the offspring
Of his fulness, far behind.
Cedar-houses bears the Atlas
On his giant shoulders; fluttring
In the breeze far, far above him
Thousand flags are gayly floating,
Bearing witness to his might.
And so beareth he his brethren
All his treasures, all his children,
Wildly shouting, to the bosom
Of his long-expedlant sire.
SPIRIT SONG OVER
THE soul of man
From heaven it cometh,
To heaven it soareth,
And then again
To earth descendeth,
Down from the lofty
Streams the bright flood,
Then spreadeth gently
In cloudy billows
Oer the smooth rock,
And welcomed kindly,
Veiling, on roams it,
Toward the abyss.
Oppose its progress,
Angrily foams it
Down to the bottom,
Step by step.
Now, in flat channel,
Through the meadowland steals it,
And in the polishd lake
Wind is the loving
Wooer of waters;
Wind blends together
Spirit of man,
Thou art like unto water!
Fortune of man,
Thou art like unto wind!
SAY, which Immortal
Merits the highest reward?
With none contend I,
But I will give it
To the aye-changing,
Wondrous daughter of Jove,
His best-beloved offspring,
For unto her
Hath he granted
All the fancies which erst
To none allowd he
Now he takes his pleasure
In the mad one.
She may, crownd with roses,
With staff twined round with lilies,
Roam through flowry valleys,
Rule the butterfly-people,
And soft-nourishing dew
With bee-like lips
Drink from the blossom:
Or else she may
With fluttering hair
And gloomy looks
Sigh in the wind
Round rocky cliffs,
Like mom and even,
Like moonbeams light,
To mortals appear.
Let us all, then,
Adore the Father!
The old, the mighty,
Who such a beauteous
Deigns to accord
To perishing mortals!
To us alone
Doth he unite her
With heavenly bonds,
While he commands her,
In joy and sorrow,
As a true spouse
Never to fly us.
All the remaining
Races so poor
Of life-teeming earth,
In children so rich,
Wander and feed
In vacant enjoyment,
And mid the dark sorrows
Bowd by the heavy
Yoke of Necessity.
But unto us he
Hath his most versatile,
Most cherishd daughter
Lovingly greet her
As a belovd one !
Give her the womans
Place in our home !
And oh, may the aged
Her gentle spirit
Neer seek to harm 1
Yet know I her sister,
The older, sedater,
Mine own silent friend ;
Oh, may she never,
Till lifes lamp is quenchd,
Turn away from me,
That noble inciter,
ARTIST! E. UNGER.
SPIRIT SONG OYER THE WATERS
WINTER JOURNEY OVER THE HARTZ MOUN-
IKE the vulture
Who on heavy morning clouds
With gentle wing reposing
Looks for his prey,
Hover, my song!
For a God hath
Unto each prescribd
His destind path,
Which the happy one
Runs oer swiftly
To his glad goal:
He whose heart cruel
Fate hath contracted,
Struggles but vainly
Against all the barriers
The brazen thread raises,
But which the harsh shears
Must one day sever.
Through gloomy thickets
Presseth the wild deer on,
And with the sparrows
Long have the wealthy
Settled themselves in the marsh.
Easy tis following the chariot
That by Fortune is driven,
Like the baggage that moves
Over well-mended highways
After the train of a prince.
But who stands there apart ?
In the thicket, lost is his path;
Behind him the bushes
Are closing together,
The grass springs up again,
The desert engulfs him.
Ah, wholl heal his afflictions
To whom balsam was poison,
Who, from loves fulness,
Drank in misanthropy only ?
First despisd, and now a despiser,
He, in secret, wasteth
All that he is worth
In a selfishness vain.
If there be, on thy psaltery,
Father of Love, but one tone
That to his ear may be pleasing,
Oh, then, quicken his heart!
Clear his cloud-envelopd eyes
Over the thousand fountains
Close by the thirsty one
In the desert.
Thou who createst much joy,
For each a measure oerflowing,
Bless the sons of the chase
When on the track of the prey,
With a wild thirsting for blood,
Youthful and joyous,
Avenging late the injustice
Which the peasant resisted
Vainly for years with his staff.
But the lonely one veil
Within thy gold clouds I
Surround with wintergreen
Until the roses bloom again
The humid locks,
Oh, Love, of thy minstrel!
With thy glimmering torch
Lightest thou him
Through the fords when tis night,
Over bottomless places,
On desert-like plains;
With the thousand colors of morning
Gladdnest his bosom;
With the fierce-biting storm
Bearest him proudly on high;
Winter torrents-rush from the cliffs,
Blend with his psalms;
An altar of grateful delight
He finds in the much-dreaded mountains
Which foreboding nations
Crownd with spirit-dances.
Thou standst with breast inscrutable,
High oer die wondering world,
And lookst from clouds
Upon its realms and its majesty,
Which thou from the veins of thy brethren
Near thee dost water.
TO FATHER KRONOS.
HASTEN thee, Kronos!
On with clattering trot!
Downhill goeth thy path;
Loathsome dizziness ever,
When thou delayest, assails me.
Quick, rattle along,
Over stock and stone let thy trot
Into life straightway lead !
Now once more
Up the toilsome ascent
Hasten, panting for breath !
Up, then, nor idle be,
Striving and hoping, up, up !
Wide, high, glorious the view
Gazing round upon life,
While from mount unto mount
Hovers the spirit eterne,
Life eternal foreboding.
Sideways a roofs pleasant shade
And a look that promises coolness
On the maidenly threshold.
There refresh thee And, maiden,
Give me this foaming draught also,
Give me this health-laden look !
Down, now quicker still, down !
See where the sun sets!
Ere he sets, ere old age
Seizeth me in the morass,
Ere my toothless jaws mumble,
And my useless limbs totter;
While drunk with his farewell beam
Hurl me,a fiery sea
Foaming still in mine eye,
Hurl me, while dazzled and reeling,
Down to the gloomy portal of hell.
Blow, then, gossip, thy horn !
Speed on with echoing trot,
So that Orcus may know we are coming;
So that our host may with joy
Wait at the door to receive us.
THE "WANDERERS STORM-SONG.
HE whom thou neer leavest, Genius,
Feels no dread within his heart
At the tempest or the rain.
He whom thou neer leavest, Genius,
Will to the rain-clouds,
Will to the hail-storm,
Sing in reply
As the lark sings,
Oh, thou on high !
Him whom thou neer leavest, Genius,
Thou wilt raise above the mud-track
With thy fiery pinions.
He will wander
As, with flowery feet,
Over Deucalions dark flood,
Python-slaying, light, glorious,
Him whom thou neer leavest, Genius,
Thou wilt place upon thy fleecy pinion
When he sleepeth on the rock,
Thou wilt shelter with thy guardian wing
In the forests midnight hour.
Him whom thou neer leavest, Genius,
Thou wilt wrap up warmly
In the snow-drift;
Towrd the warmth approach the Muses,
Towrd the warmth approach the Graces.
Ye Muses, hover round me!
Ye Graces also!
That is water, that is earth,
And the son of water and of earth
Over which I wander
Like the gods.
Ye are pure, like the heart of the water;
Ye are pure, like the marrow of earth,
Hovring round me, while I hover
Over water, oer the earth
Like the gods.
Shall he then return,
The small, the dark, the fiery peasant?
Shall he then return, awaiting
Only thy gifts, O Father Bromius,
And brightly gleaming, warmth-spreading
Return with joy ?
And I, whom ye attended,
Ye Muses and ye Graces,
Whom all awaits that ye,
Ye Muses and ye Graces,
Of circling bliss in life
Have glorifiedshall I
Thou'rt the Genius,
But by God-sent changing winds ere long hes
Sideways from the course he had intended,
And he feigns as though he would surrender
While he gently striveth to outwit them.
To his goal, een when thus pressd, still faithful.
But from out the damp gray distance rising
Softly now the storm proclaims its advent,
Presseth down each bird upon the waters,
Presseth down the throbbing hearts of mortals.
And it cometh. At its stubborn fury
Wisely ev'ry sail the seaman striketh;
With the anguish-laden ball are sporting
Wind and water.
And on yonder shore are gatherd, standing,
Friends and lovers, trembling for the bold
Why, alas, remaind he here not with us!
Ah, the tempest! Cast away by fortune !
Must the good one perish in this fashion ?
Might not he perchance ... Ye great im-
Yet he, like a man, stands by his rudder;
With the bark are sporting wind and water,
Wind and water sport not with his bosom :
On the fierce deep looks he as a master,
In his gods, or shipwreckd or safe landed,
COVER thy spacious heavens, Zeus,
With clouds of mist,
And, like the boy who lops
The thistles heads,
Disport with oaks and mountain-peaks;
Yet thou must leave
My earth still standing;
My cottage too, which was not raisd by thee;
Leave me my hearth,
Whose kindly glow
By thee is envied.
I know naught poorer
Under the sun than ye gods!
Ye nourish painfully,
And votive prayers,
Ye would een starve
If children and beggars
Were not trusting fools.
While yet a child
And ignorant of life
I turnd my wandering gaze
Up towrd the sun, as if with him
There were an ear to hear my wailings,
A heart like mine
To feel compassion for distress.
Who helpd me
Against the Titans insolence?
Who rescued me from certain death,
Didst thou not do all this thyself,
My sacred glowing heart ?
And glowedst, young and good,
Deceivd with grateful thanks,
To yonder slumbering one ?
I honor thee! and why ?
Hast thou eer lightend the sorrows
Of the heavy-laden ?
Hast thou eer dried up the tears
Of the anguish-stricken ?
Was I not fashiond to be a man
By omnipotent Time
And by eternal Fate,
Masters of me and thee ?
Didst thou eer fancy
That life I should learn to hate
artist: f. c. welsch.
THE WANDERERS STORM-SONG.
THE EAGLE AND DOVE.
N search of prey once raisd his pinions
A huntsmans arrow came and reft
His right wing of all motive power.
Headlong he fell into a myrtle grove,
For three long days on anguish fed,
In torment writhd
Throughout three long, three weary nights;
And then was cured,
Thanks to all-healing Natures
Soft, omnipresent balm.
He crept away from out the copse
And stretchd his wingalas !
Lost is all power of flight
He scarce can lift himself
From off the ground
To catch some mean, unworthy prey,
And rests, deep-sorrowing,
On the low rock beside the stream.
Up to the oak he looks,
Looks up to heaven,
While in his noble eye there gleams a tear.
Then, rustling through the myrtle boughs, be-
There comes a wanton pair of doves
Who settle down, and, nodding, strut
Oer the gold sands beside the stream,
And gradually approach;
Their red-tinged eyes so full of love
Soon see the inward-sorrowing one.
The male, inquisitively social, leaps
On the next bush, and looks
Upon him kindly and complacently.
Thou sorrowest, murmurs he:
Be of good cheer, my friend !
All that is needed for calm happiness
Hast thou not here ?
Hast thou not pleasure in the golden bough
That shields thee from the days fierce glow?
Canst thou not raise thy breast to catch
On the soft moss beside the brook
The suns last rays at even ?
Here thou mayst wander through the flowers
Pluck from the overflow
The forest-trees provide
The choicest food,mayst quench
Thy light thirst at the silvery spring.
O friend, true happiness
Lies in contentedness,
And that contentedness
Finds everywhere enough.
O wise one! said the eagle, while he sank
In deep and ever-deepning thought
O Wisdom like a dove thou speakest!
HOW in the light of morning
Round me thou glowest,
Spring, thou beloved one !
With thousand-varying loving bliss
The sacred emotions
Born of thy warmth eternal
Press gainst my bosom,
Thou endlessly fair one !
Could I but hold thee claspd
Within mine arms *
Ah upon thy bosom
Lay I pining,
And then thy flowers, thy grass,
Were pressing against my heart.
Thou coolest the burning
Thirst of my bosom,
Beauteous morning breeze!
The nightingale then calls me
Sweetly from out of the misty vale.
I come, I come !
Whither? Ah, whither?
Up, up, lies my course.
While downward the clouds
Are hovering, the clouds
Are bending to meet yearning love.
Within thine arms
Embracd and embracing!
Upwards into thy bosom,
O Father all-loving!
THE BOUNDARIES OF
HEN the primeval
Sows with a tranquil hand
From clouds, as they roll,
Over the earth,
Then do I kiss the last
Hem of his garment,
While by a childlike awe
Filld is my breast.
For with immortals
Neer may a mortal
If he soar upwards
And if he touch
With his forehead the stars,
Nowhere will rest then
His insecure feet,
And with him sport
Tempest and cloud.
Though with firm sinewy
Limbs he may stand
On the enduring
All he is ever
Able to do
Is to resemble
The oak or the vine.
Wherein do gods
Differ from mortals?
In that the former
See endless billows
Heaving before them;
Us doth the billow
Lift up and swallow,
So that we perish.
Small is the ring
Enclosing our life,
And whole generations
Link themselves firmly
On to existences
OBLE be man,
Helpful and good!
For that alone
From all the beings
Unto us known.
Hail to the beings,
Unknown and glorious,
Whom we forebode!
From his example
Learn we to know them!
Nature is ever:
On bad and on good
The sun alike shineth ;
And on the wicked
As on the best
The moon and stars gleam.
Tempest and torrent,
Thunder and hail,
Roar on their path,
Seizing the while,
As they haste onward,
One after another.
Even so fortune
Gropes mid the throng
Curly head seizing,
Seizing the hoary
Head of the sinner.
After laws mighty,
Must all we mortals
Finish the circuit
Of our existence.
Man and man only
Can do the impossible;
He *tis distinguished,
Chooseth and judged;
He to the moment
Endurance can lend.
He and he only
The good can reward,
The bad can he punish,
Can heal and can save;
All that wanders and strays
Can usefully blend.
And we pay homage
To the immortals
As though they were men,
And did in the great,
What the best, in the small,
Does or might do.
Be the man that is noble,
Both helpful and good,
The right and the useful,
A type of those beings
Our mind hath foreshadowd
HA, I am the lord of earth The noble,
Who re in my service, love me.
Ha, I am the lord of earth! The noble,
O'er whom my sway extended, love I.
Oh, grant me, God in heaven, that I may neer
Dispense with loftiness and love 1
H, ye gods! ye great immortals
In the spacious heavens above us!
Would ye on this earth but give us
Steadfast minds and dauntless courage
We, O kindly ones, would leave you
All your spacious heavens above us!
THERES no menagerie, I vow,
Excels my Lilys at this minute;
She keeps the strangest creatures in it,
And catches them, she knows not how.
Oh, how they hop, and run, and rave,
And their clippd pinions wildly wave,
Poor princes, who must all endure
'Die pangs of love that naught can cure.
What is the fairys name?Ist Lily?Ask
Give thanks to Heaven if shes unknown to
Oh, what a cackling, what a shrieking,
When near the door she takes her stand
With her food-basket in her hand!
Oh, what a croaking, what a squeaking!
Alive all the trees and the bushes appear,
While to her feet whole troops draw near;
The very fish within the water clear
Splash with impatience and their heads pro-
And then she throws around the food
With such a look !the very gods delighting
(Tp say naught of beasts). There begins
then a biting,
A picking, a pecking, a sipping,
And each oer the legs of another is tripping,
And pushing, and pressing, and flapping,
And chasing, and fuming, and snapping,
And all for one small piece of bread,
To which, though dry, her fair hands give a
As though it in ambrosia had been placd.
And then her look! the tone
With which she calls: Pipi! Pipi !
Would draw Joves eagle from his throne;
Yes, Venus turtle-doves, I ween,
And the vain peacock een,
Would come, I swear,
Soon as that tone had reachd them through
Een from a forest dark had she
Enticd a bear, unlickd, ill-bred,
And by her wiles alluring led
To join the gentle company,
Until as tame as they was he:
(Up to a certain point, bet understood 1)
How fair, and, ah, how good
She seemd to be I would have draind my
To water een her flowrets sweet.
Thou sayest: // Who? How? And
Well, to be plain, good SirsI am the bear;
In a net-apron caught, alas 1
Chaind by a silk-thread at her feet.
But how this wonder came to pass
Ill tell some day, if ye are curious ;
Just now, my tempers much too furious.
Ah, when I'm in the corner placd,
And hear afar the creatures snapping,
And see the flipping and the flapping,
I turn around
With growling sound,
And backward run a step in haste,
And look around
With growling sound,
Then run again a step in haste,
And to my former post go round.
But suddenly my anger grows,
A mighty spirit fills my nose,
My inward feelings all revolt.
A creature such as thou! a dolt!
Pipi, a squirrel able nuts to crack t
I bristle up my shaggy back,
Unused a slave to be.
Im laughd at by each trim and upstart tree
To scorn. The bowling-green I fly,
With neatly-mown and well-kept grass;
The box makes faces as I pass,
Into the darkest thicket hasten I,
Hoping to scape from the ring,
Over the palings to spring !
Vainly I leap and climb ;
I feel a leaden spell
That pinions me as well;
And when Im fully wearied out in time
I lay me down beside some mock cascade,
And roll myself half dead, and foam, and
And, ah no Oreads hear my sigh
Excepting those of china made !
But, ah, with sudden power
In all my members blissful feelings reign !
Tis she who singeth yonder in her bower I
I hear that darling, darling voice again.
The air is warm, and teems with fragrance
Sings she perchance for me alone to hear ?
I haste, and trample down the shrubs amain;
The trees make way, the bushes all retreat,
And sothe beast is lying at her feet.
She looks at him: The monsters droll
Hes for a bear too mild,
Yet for a dog too wild,
So shaggy, clumsy, rough!
Upon his back she gently strokes her foot;
He thinks himself in Paradise.
What feelings through his seven senses shoot!
But she looks on with careless eyes.
I lick her soles, and kiss her shoes,
As gently as a bear well may;
Softly I rise, and with a clever ruse
Leap on her knee.On a propitious day
She suffers it; my ears then tickles she,
And hits me a hard blow in wanton play;
I growl with new-born ecstasy;
Then speaks she in a sweet vain jest, I wot:
A lions tout doux / eh / la menotte /
Et faiies serviteur
Comtne un joli seigneur.
Thus she proceeds with sport and glee;
Hope fills the oft-deluded beast;
Yet if one moment he would lazy be
Her fondness all at once hath ceasd.
She doth a flask of balsam-fire possess
Sweeter than honey-bees can make,
One drop of which shell on her finger take,
When softend by his love and faithfulness,
Wherewith her monsters raging thirst to
Then leaves me to myself, and flies at last,
And I, unbound, yet prisond fast
By magic, follow in her train,
Seek for her, tremble, fly again.
The hapless creature thus tormenteth she,
Regardless of his pleasure or his woe;
Ha! oft half-opend does she leave the door
And sideways looks to learn if I will fly or no.
And IO gods your hands alone
Can end the spell thats oer me thrown ;
Free me, and gratitude my heart will fill 3
And yet from heaven ye send me down no
Not quite in vain doth life my limbs pervade:
I feel it! Strength is left me still.
WHO will hear me? Whom shall I lament
Who would pity me that heard my sorrows?
Ah, the lip that erst so many raptures
Used to taste, and used to give responsive,
Now is cloven, and it pains me sorely;
And it is not thus severely wounded
By my mistress having caught me fiercely,
And then gently bitten me, intending
To secure her friend more firmly to her:
No, my tender lip is crackd thus only
By the winds, oer rime and frost proceeding,
Pointed, sharp, unloving, having met me.
Now the noble grapes bright juice commingled
With the bees sweet juice, upon the fire
Of my hearth, shall ease me of my torment,
Ah, what use will all this be if with it
Love adds not a drop of his own balsam ?
TO HIS COY ONE.
SEEST thou yon smiling Orange ?
Upon the tree still hangs it;
Already March hath vanishd,
And new-born flowrs are shooting.
I draw nigh to the tree then,
And there I say: O Orange,
Thou ripe and juicy Orange,
Thou sweet and luscious Orange
I shake the tree, I shake it
Oh, fall into my lap!
OH, thou sweet maiden fair,
Thou with the raven hair,
Why to the window go?
While gazing down below,
Art standing vainly there?
Oh, if thou stoodst for me,
And lettst the latch but fly,
How happy should I be!
How soon would I leap high!
TN the deepest nights of winter
1 To the Muses kind oft cried I:
Not a ray of morn is gleaming,
Not a sign of daylight breaking;
Bring then, at the fitting moment,
Bring the lamp's soft glimmring lustre
Stead of Phoebus and Aurora,
To enliven my still labors!
Yet they left me in my slumbers,
Dull and unrefreshing, lying,
And to each late-wakend morning
Followd days devoid of profit.
When at length return'd the springtime
To the nightingales thus spake I:
Darling nightingales, oh, beat ye
Early, early at my window,
Wake me from the heavy slumber
That chains down the youth so strongly!
Yet the love-oerflowing songsters
Their sweet melodies protra&ed
Through the night before my window',
Kept awake my loving spirit,
Rousing new and tender yearnings
In my newly-wakend bosom.
And the night thus fleeted oer me,
And Aurora found me sleeping,
Ay, the sun could scarce arouse me.
Now at length is come the summer,
And the early fly so busy
Draws me from my pleasing slumbers
At the first-born morning-glimmer.
Mercilessly then returns she,
Though the half-aroused one often
Scares her from him with impatience,
And she lures her shameless sisters,
So that from my weary eyelids
Kindly sleep ere long is driven.
From my couch then boldly spring I,
And I seek the darling Muses,
In the beechen-grove I find them
Full of pleasure to receive me;
And to the tormenting inse6ls
Owe I many a golden hour.
Thus be ye, unwelcome beings,
Highly valued by the poet
As the flies my numbers tell of.
OTHOU cruel deadly-lovely maiden,
Tell me what great sin have I committed
That thou keepst me to the rack thus fastend,
That thou hast thy solemn promise broken ?
Twas but yestereen that thou with fondness
Pressd my hand, and these sweet accents
Yes, Ill come, Ill come when mom ap-
Come, my friend, full surely to thy chamber.
On the latch I left my doors, unfastend,
Having first with care tried all the hinges,
And rejoicd right well to find they creakd
What a night of expectation passd I!
For I watchd, and evry chime I numberd ;
If perchance I slept a few short moments
Still my heart remaind awake forever,
And awoke me from my gentle slumbers.
Yes, then blessd I nights oerhanging dark-
That so calmly cover'd all things round me;
I enjoyd the universal silence,
While I listen'd ever in the silence
If perchance the slightest sounds were stirring.
Had she only thoughts my thoughts resem-
Had she only feelings like my feelings,
She would not await the dawn of morning,
But ere this would surely have been with me.
Skippd a kitten on the floor above me,
Scratchd a mouse a panel in the corner.
Was there in the house the slightest motion,
Ever hoped I that I heard thy footstep,
Ever thought I that I heard thee coming.
And so lay I long, and ever longer,
And already was the daylight dawning,
And both here and there were signs of move-
Is it yon door ? Were it my door only!
In my bed I leand upon my elbow,
Looking towrd the door, now half-apparent,
If perchance it might not be in motion.
Both the wings upon the latch continued,
On the quiet hinges calmly hanging.
And the day grew bright and brighter ever;
And I heard my neighbors door unbolted
As he went to earn his daily wages;
And ere long I heard the wagons rumbling,
And the city gates were also opend,
While the market-place in evry corner
Teemd with life and bustle and confusion.
In the house was going now and coming
Up and down the stairs, and doors were creak-
Backwards now, now forwards, footsteps
Yet, as though it were a thing all-living,
From my cherishd hope I could not tear me.
When at length the sun, in hated splendor,
Fell upon my walls, upon my windows,
Up I sprang, and hastend to the garden,
There to blend my breath, so hot and yearn-
With the cool refreshing morning breezes,
And, it might be, even there to meet thee:
But I cannot find thee in the arbor,
Or the avenue of lofty lindens.
FAIN had I to-day surprisd my mistress,
But soon found I that her door was fastend.
Yet I had the key safe in my pocket,
And the darling door I opend softly !
In the parlor found I not the maiden,
Found the maiden not within her closet,
Then her chamber-door I gently opend,
When I found her wrappd in pleasing slumbers,
Fully dressd, and lying on the sofa.
While at work had slumber stolen oer her;
For her knitting and her needle found I
Resting in her folded hands so tender;
And I placed myself beside her softly,
And held counsel whether I should wake her.
Then I lookd upon the beauteous quiet
That on her sweet eyelids was reposing;
On her lips was silent truth depicted,
On her cheeks had loveliness its dwelling,
And the pureness of a heart unsullied
In her bosom evermore was heaving.
All her limbs were gracefully reclining,
Set at rest by sweet and godlike balsam.
Gladly sat I, and the contemplation
Held the strong desire I felt to wake her
Firmer and firmer down with mystic fetters.
O thou love, methought, I see that
Slumber that betrayeth each false feature,
Cannot injure thee, can naught discover
That could serve to harm thy friends soft feel-
Now thy beauteous eyes are firmly closed,
That, when open, form mine only rapture.
And thy sweet lips are devoid of motion,
Motionless for speaking or for kissing;
Loosend are the soft and magic fetters
Of thine arms, so wont to twine around me,
And the hand, the ravishing companion
Of thy sweet caresses, lies unmoving.
Were my thoughts of thee but based on
Were the love I bear thee self-deception,
I must now have found it out, since Amor
Is, without his bandage, placed beside me.
Long I sat thus, full of heartfelt pleasure
At my love, and at her matchless merit;
She had so delighted me while slumbering
That I could not venture to awake her.
Then I on the little table near her
Softly placed two oranges, two roses;
Gently, gently stole I from her chamber.
When her eyes the darling one shall open
She will straightway spy these colord presents,
And the friendly gift will view with wonder,
For the door will still remain unopend.
If perchance I see to-night the angel,
How will she rejoice!reward me doubly
For this sacrifice of fond affection !
THE MAGIC NET.
O I see a contest yonder ?
See I miracles or pastimes?
Beauteous urchins, five in number,
Gainst five sisters fair contending,
Measurd is the time theyre beating
At a bright enchantress bidding.
Glittring spears by some are wielded,
Threads are others nimbly twining,
So that in their snares the weapons
One would think must needs be captured.
Soon, in truth, the spears are prisond;
Yet they, in the gentle war-dance,
One by one escape their fetters
In the row of loops so tender
That make haste to seize a free one
Soon as they release a captive.
So with contests, strivings, triumphs,
Flying now, and now returning,
Is an artful net soon woven,
In its whiteness like the snow-flakes
That, from light amid the darkness,
Draw their streaky lines so varied
As een colors scarce can draw them.
Who shall now receive that garment
Far beyond all others wishd for?
Whom our much-lovd mistress favor
As her own acknowledgd servant?
I am blessd by kindly Fortunes
Tokens true, in silence prayd for!
And I feel myself held captive,
To her service now devoted.
Yet, een while I, thus enraptured,
Thus adornd, am proudly wandring,
See! yon wantons are entwining,
Void of strife, with secret ardor,
Other nets, each fine and finer,
Threads of twilight interweaving,
Moonbeams sweet, night-violets balsam.
Ere the net is noticed by us
Is a happier one imprisond,
Whom we, one and all, together
Greet with envy and with blessings.
AGERLY a well-carvd brim-
In my two hands tightly
claspd I lifted;
Ardently the sweet wine
sippd I from it,
Seeking there to drown all care and sorrow.
Amor enterd in, and found me sitting,
And he gently smiled in modest fashion,
Smiled as though the foolish one he pitied.
Friend, I know a far more beauteous vessel,
One wherein to sink thy spirit wholly;
Say, what wilt thou give me, if I grant it,
And with other nedlar fill it for thee ?
Oh, how kindly hath he kept his promise !
For to me, who long had yearnd, he granted
Thee, my Lida, filld with soft affe<5tion.
When I clasp mine arms around thee fondly,
When I drink in loves long-hoarded balsam
From thy darling lips so true, so faithful,
Filld with bliss thus speak I to my spirit:
No a vessel such as this, save Amor,
Never god hath fashiond or been lord of!
Such a form was neer producd by Vulcan
With his cunning, reason-gifted hammers !
On the leaf-crownd mountains may Lyseus
Bid his Fauns, the oldest and the wisest,
Pass the choicest clusters through the wine-
And himself watch oer the fermentation:
Such a draught no toil can eer procure
0 UNHAPPY stars your fate I mourn;
Ye by whom the sea-tossd sailors lighted,
Who with radiant beams the heavens adorn,
But by gods and men are unrequited :
For ye love not,neer have learnd to love!
Ceaselessly in endless dance ye move,
In the spacious sky your charms displaying.
What far travels ye have hastend through,
Since, within my lovd ones arms delaying,
Ive forgotten you and midnight too !
THE only one whom, Lida, thou canst love,
Thou claimst, and rightly claimst, for
He too is wholly thine; since doomd to rove
Far from thee, in lifes turmoils naught I see
Save a thin veil, through which thy form I view
As though in clouds; with kindly smile and true
It cheers me, like the stars eterne that gleam
Across the northern lights far-flickring
THE happiness that man, whilst prisond
Is wont with heavenly rapture to compare,-^
The harmony of Truth, from wavering clear,
Of Friendship that is free from doubting
The light which in stray thoughts alone can
The wise,the bard alone in visions fair,
In my best hours I found in her all this,
And made mine own, to mine exceeding bliss.
FROM AN ALBUM OF 1604.
HOPE provides wings to thought, and love I
to hope. !
Rise up to Cynthia, love, when night is clear- j
And say, that as on high her figure changeth,
So, upon earth, my joy decays and grows.
And whisper in her ear with modest softness
How doubt oft hung its head, and truth oft
And O ye thoughts, distrustfully inclind,
If ye are therefore by the lovd one chided,
Answer: tis true ye change, but alter not,
As she remains the same, yet changeth ever.
Doubt may invade the heart, but poisons not,
For love is sweeter, by suspicion flavord.
If it with anger overcasts the eye,
And heavens bright purity perversely blackens,
Then zephyr-sighs straight scare the clouds
And changd to tears dissolve them into rain.
Thought, hope, and love remain there as be-
Till Cynthia gleams upon me as of old.
TO THE RISING FULL MOON.
Dornburg, August 25th, 1828.
WILT thou suddenly enshroud thee,
Who this moment wert so nigh ?
Heavy rising masses cloud thee,
Thou art hidden from mine eye.
Yet my sadness thou well knowest,
Gleaming sweetly as a star !
That Im lovd, tis thou that showest,
Though my lovd one may be far.
Upward mount then clearer, milder,
Robd in splendor far more bright!
Though my heart with grief throbs wilder,
Fraught with rapture is the night!
I SLEPT,twas midnight,in my bosom
As though twere day, my love-oerflowing
To me it seemd like night when day first
What ist to me, whateer it may impart?
She was away; the worlds unceasing strife
For her alone I sufferd through the heat
Of sultry day. Oh, what refreshing life
At cooling eve!my guerdon was com-
The sun now set, and wandring hand in hand
His last and blissful look we greeted then;
While spake our eyes, as they each other
From the far east, lets trust, hell come
At midnight!the bright stars in vision blessd
Guide to the threshold where she slumbers
Oh, be it mine, there too at length to rest,
Yet howsoeer this prove, lifes full of
AT MIDNIGHT HOUR.
And when, in journeying oer the path of life,
My love I followd, as she onward movd,
With stars and northern lights oer head in
Going and coming, perfedl bliss I provd
At midnight hour.
Until at length the full moon, lustre-fraught,
Burst through the gloom wherein she was enshrind;
And then the willing, a&ive, rapid thought
Around the past, as round the future twind,
At midnight hour.
AT midnight hour I went, not willingly,
A little, little boy, yon churchyard past,
To Father Vicars house; the stars on high
On all around their beauteous radiance
At midnight hour.
LINES ON SEEING
WITHIN a gloomy charnel-house one day
I viewd the countless skulls, so strangely
And of old times I thought, that now were gray.
Close packd they stand that once so fiercely
And hardy bones that to the death contended
Are lying crossd,to lie forever, fated.
What held those crooked shoulder-blades sus-
No one now asks; and limbs with vigor fired,
The hand, the foottheir use in life is ended.
Vainly ye sought the tomb for rest when tired;
Peace in the grave may not be yours; yere
Back into daylight by a force inspird;
But none can love the witherd husk, though
A glorious noble kernel it contained.
To me, an adept, was the writing given
Which not to all its holy sense explained,
When 'mid the crowd, their icy shadows fling-
I saw a form, that glorious still remained,
And even there, where mould and damp were
Gave me a blessd, a rapture-fraught emotion,
As though from death a living fount were
What mystic joy I felt! What rapt devo-
That form, how pregnant with a godlike trace!
A look, how did it whirl me towrd that
Whose rolling billows mightier shapes em-
Mysterious vessel! Oracle how dear 1
Even to grasp thee is my hand too base,
Except to steal thee from thy prison here
With pious purpose, and devoutly go
Back to the air, free thoughts, and sunlight
What greater gain in life can man eer know
Than when God-Nature will to him explain
How into Spirit steadfastness may flow,
How steadfast, too, the Spirit-Born remain.
ONCE more, then, much-wept shadow, thou
Boldly to face the days clear light,
To meet me on fresh blooming meadows fair,
And dost not tremble at my sight.
Those happy times appear returnd once more.
When on one field we quaffd refreshing
And, when the days unwelcome toils were
The farewell sunbeams blessd our ravishd
Fate bade thee goto linger here was mine
Going the first, the smaller loss was thine.
The life of man appears a glorious fate:
The day how lovely, and the night how great f
And we, mid paradise-like raptures placd,
The suns bright glory scarce have learnd to
When strange contending feelings dimly
Now us, and now the forms that round us
Ones feelings by no other are supplied ;
Tis dark without, if all is bright inside;
An outward brightness veils my saddend
When Fortune smiles,how seldom under-
Now think we that we know her, and with
A womans beauteous form instils delight;
The youth, as glad as in his infancy,
The spring-time treads, as though the spring
Ravishd, amazd, he asks, how this is done?
He looks around, the world appears his own.
With careless speed he wanders on through
Nor walls, nor palaces can check his race;
As some gay flight of birds round tree-tops
So 'tis with him who round his mistress strays;
He seeks from ^Ether, which hed leave behind
The faithful look that fondly serves to bind
Yet first too early warnd, and then too late,
He feels his flight restraind, is capturd
To meet again is sweet, to part is sad,
Again to meet again is still more glad,
And years in one short moment are enshrind ;
But oh, the harsh farewell is hid behind!
Thou smilest, friend, with fitting thoughts in-
By a dread parting was thy fame acquird;
Thy mournful destiny we sorrowd oer;
For weal and woe thou leftst us evermore;
And then again the passions wavering force
Drew us along in labyrinthine course;
And we, consumd by constant misery,
At length must partand parting is to die 1
How moving is it, when the minstrel sings,
To scape the death that separation brings!
Oh, grant, some god, to one who suffers so,
To tell, half-guilty, his sad tale of woe!
When man had ceased to utter his lament,
A god then let me tell my tale of sorrow.
WHAT hope of once more meeting is there
In the still-closed blossoms of this day?
Both heaven and hell thrown open seest thou;
What wavring thoughts within the bosom
No longer doubt! Descending from the sky,
She lifts thee in her arms to realms on high.
And thus thou into paradise wert brought,
As worthy of a pure and endless life;
Nothing was left, no wish, no hope, no thought,
Here was the boundary of thine inmost
And seeing one so fair, so glorified,
The fount of yearning tears was straightway
No motion stirrd the days revolving wheel;
In their own front the minutes seemd to go;
The evening kiss, a true and binding seal,
Neer changing till the morrows sunlight
The hours resembled sisters as they went,
Yet each one from another different.
The last hours kiss, so sadly sweet, effacd
A beauteous network of entwining love.
Now on the threshold pause the feet, now haste,
As though a flaming cherub bade them move;
The unwilling eye the dark road wanders oer.
Backward it looks, but closd it sees the door.
And now within itself is closd this breast,
As though it neer were open, and as though,
Vying with evry star, no moments blessd
Had, in its presence, felt a kindling glow;
Sadness, reproach, repentance, weight of care,
Hang heavy on it in the sultry air.
Is not the world still left ? The rocky steeps,
Are they with holy shades no longer crownd ?
Grows not the harvest ripe ? No longer creeps
Th espalier by the stream,the copse
Doth not the wondrous arch of heaven still
Now rich in shape, now shapeless to the eyes?
As, seraph-like, from out the dark clouds
With softness woven, graceful, light and fair,
Resembling Her, in the blue ether oer us,
A slender figure hovers in the air,
Thus didst thou see her joyously advance,
The fairest of the fairest in the dance.
Yet but a moment dost thou boldly dare
To clasp an airy form instead of hers;
Back to thine heart 1 thouIt find it better
For there in changeful guise her image stirs;
What erst was one, to many turneth fast,
In thousand forms, each dearer than the last.
As at the door on meeting linger'd she,
And step by step my faithful ardor blessd,
For the last kiss herself entreated me,
And on my lips the last, last kiss impressd
Thus clearly tracd, the lovd ones form we
With flames engraven on a heart so true,
A heart that, firm as some embattled tower,
Itself for her, her in itself reveres,
For her rejoices in its lasting power,
Conscious alone, when she herself appears
Feels itself freer in so sweet a thrall,
And only beats to give her thanks in all.
The power of loving, and all yearning sighs
For love responsive were effacd and
While longing hope for joyous enterprise
Was formd, and rapid adtion straightway
If love can eer a loving one inspire,
Most lovingly it gave me now its fire.
And 'twas through her!an inward sorrow lay
On soul and body, heavily oppressd;
To mournful phantoms was my sight a prey,
In the drear void of a sad tortured breast;
Now on the well-known threshold Hope hath
Herself appeareth in the sunlight mild.
Unto the peace of God, which, as we read,
Blesseth us more than reason eer hath done,
Loves happy peace would I compare indeed,
When in the presence of the dearest one.
There rests the heart, and there that sweetest
The thought of being hers, is checkd by
In the pure bosom doth a yearning float,
Unto a holier, purer, unknown Being
Its grateful aspirations to devote,
The Ever-Nameless then unriddled seeing;
We call it piety!such blessd delight
I feel a share in when before her sight.
Before her sight, as neath the suns hotxay,
Before her breath, as neath the Springs soft
In its deep wintry cavern melts away
Self-love, so long in icy chains confind;
No selfishness and no self-will are nigh,
For at her advent they were forcd to fly.
it seems as though she said : As hours pass
They spread before us life with kindly plan;
Small knowledge did the yesterday supply,
To know the morrow is conceald from man;
And if the thought of evening made me start,
The sun at setting gladdend straight my heart.
ACfc, then, as I, and look, with joyous mind,
The moment in the face; nor linger thou!
Meet it with speed, so fraught with life, so
In action, and in love so radiant now;
Let all things be where thou art, childlike
Thus thouIt be all, thus thoult be vanquishd
Thou speakest well, methought, for as thy
The moments favor did a god assign,
And each one feels himself, when by thy side,
Fates favrite in a moment so divine;
I tremble at thy look that bids me go ;
Why should I care such wisdom vast to know?
Now am I far! And what would best befit
The present minute? I could scarcely tell:
Full many a rich possession offers it,
These but offend, and I would fain repel.
Yearnings unquenchable still drive me on;
All counsel, save unbounded tears, is gone.
Flow on, flow on in ^ever-ceasing course,
Yet may ye never quench my inward fire!
Within my bosom heaves a mighty force,
Where death and life contend in combat
Medicines may serve the bodys pangs to still;
Naught but the spirit fails in strength of will,
Fails in conception ; wherefore fails it so ?
A thousand times her image it portrays;
Enchanting now, and now compelld to go,
Now indistinct, now clothd in purest rays!
How could the smallest comfort here be flow-
The ebb and flood, the coming and the going!
* * # % sfc
Leave me here now, my lifes companions
Leave me alone on rock, in moor and heath;
But courage open lies the world to you,
The glorious heavens above, the earth be-
Observe, investigate, with searching eyes,
And Nature will disclose her mysteries.
To me is all, I to myself am lost,
Who the immortals favrite erst was thought;
They, tempting, sent Pandoras to my cost,
So rich in wealth, with danger far more
They urged me to those lips, with rapture
Deserted me, and hurld me to the ground.
PASSION brings reason,who can pacify
An anguishd heart whose loss hath been
Where are the hours that fled so swiftly by ?
In vain the fairest thou didst gain from
Sad is the soul, confusd the enterprise;
The glorious world, how on the sense it dies!
In million tones entwind for evermore,
Music with angel-pinions hovers there,
To pierce mans being to its inmost core,
Eternal beauty as its fruit to bear;
The eye grows moist, in yearnings blessd re-
The godlike worth of music as of tears.
And so the lightend heart soon learns to see
That it still lives, and beats, and ought to
Offring itself with joy and willingly,
In grateful payment for a gift so sweet.
And then was feltoh, may it constant prove!
The twofold bliss of music and of love.
TELL me, eyes, what tis yere seeking;
For yere saying something sweet,
Fit the ravishd ear to greet,
Eloquently, softly speaking.
Yet I see now why yere roving;
For behind those eyes so bright,
To itself abandond quite,
Lies a bosom, truthful, loving,
One that it must fill with pleasure
Mongst so many, dull and blind,
One true look at length to find,
That its worth can rightly treasure.
Whilst Im lost in studying ever
To explain these cyphers duly,
To unravel my looks truly
In return be your endeavor !
LIGHT and silvry cloudlets hover
In the air, as yet scarce warm ;
Mild, with glimmer soft tinged over,
Peeps the sun through fragrant balm
Gently rolls and heaves the ocean
As its waves the bank oerflow,
And with ever-restless motion
Moves the verdure to and fro,
Mirrord brightly far below.
What is now the foliage moving?
Air is still, and hushd the breeze,
Sultriness, this fulness loving,
Through the thicket, from the trees.
Now the eye at once gleams brightly,
See! the infant band with mirth
Moves and dances nimbly, lightly,
As the morning gave it birth,
Fluttring two and two oer earth.
SHE behind yon mountain lives,
Who my loves sweet guerdon gives.
Tell me, mount, how this can be !
Very glass thou seemst to me,
And I seem to be close by,
For I see her drawing nigh;
Now, because Im absent, sad,
Now, because she sees me, glad !
Soon between us rise to sight
Valleys cool, with bushes light,
Streams and meadows; next appear
Mills and wheels, the surest token
That a level spot is near,
Plains far-stretching and unbroken.
And so onward, onward roam,
To my garden and my home 1
But how comes it then to pass?
All this gives no joy, alas!
I was ravishd by her sight,
By her eyes so fair and bright,
By her footstep soft and light.
How her peerless charms I prais'd,
When from head to foot I gazd!
I am here, shes far away,
I am gone with her to stay.
If on rugged hills she wander,
If she haste the vale along,
Pinions seem to flutter yonder,
And the air is filld with song;
With the glow of youth still playing,
Joyous vigor in each limb,
One in silence is delaying,
She alone 'tis blesses him.
Love, thou art too fair, I ween 1
Fairer I have never seen 1
From the heart full easily
Blooming flowers are culld by thee.
If I think: Oh, were it so,
Bone and marrow seem to glow!
If rewarded by her love,
Can I greater rapture prove?
And still fairer is the bride,
When in me she will confide,
When she speaks and lets me know
All her tale of joy and woe.
All her lifetimes history
Now is fully known to me.
Who in child or woman eer
Soul and body found so fair?
EVER AND EVERYWHERE.
FAR explore the mountain hollow,
High in air the clouds then follow!
To each brook and vale the Muse
Thousand times her call renews.
Soon as a flowret blooms in spring,
It wakens many a strain ;
And when Time spreads his fleeting wing
The seasons come again.
ARTIST : C. UNGER.
NEXT YEARS SPRING.
THE bed of flowers
The beauteous snowdrops
Droop oer the plain;
The crocus opens
Its glowing bud,
Like emeralds others,
Others like blood.
With saucy gesture
And roguish violets,
Hidden with care,
There stirs and strives,
The Springs contented,
It works and thrives.
SUCH, SUCH IS HE
FLY, dearest, fly! He is not nigh!
He who found thee one fair morn in spring
In the wood where thou thy flight didst
Fly, dearest, fly He is not nigh!
Never rests the foot of evil spy.
Hark! flutes sweet strains and loves refrains
Reach the lovdone, borne there by the wind,
In the soft heart open doors they find.
Hark! flutes sweet strains and loves refrains,
Hark!yet blissful love their echo pains.
EreCt his head, and firm his tread,
Raven hair around his smooth brow strays,
On his cheeks a spring eternal plays.
EreCt his head, and firm his tread,
And by grace his evry step is led.
Mongst all the blossoms
That fairest are,
My sweethearts sweetness
Is sweetest far j
Upon me ever
Her glances light,
My song they waken,
My words make bright.
An ever open
And blooming mind,
In sport, unsullied,
In earnest, kind.
Though roses and lilies
By Summer are brought,
Against my sweetheart
Prevails he naught.
WHO PLEASETH ME.
Happy his breast, with pureness blessd,
And the dark eyes neath hiseyebrows placed,
With full many a beauteous line are graced.
Happy his breast, with pureness blessd,
Soon as seen, thy love must be confessd.
His mouth is redits power I dread,
On his lips morns fragrant incense lies,
Round his lips the cooling zephyr sighs.
His mouth is redits power I dread,
With one glance from him, all sorrows fled.
His blood is true, his heart bold too,
In his soft arms, strength, prote&ion,
And his face with noble pity swells.
His blood is true, his heart bold too,
Blessd the one whom those dear arms may woo!
ST. NEPOMUKS EVE.
Cari.si!ai), May 15, 1820.
CHILDREN on the bridge are singing,
On the river lights are glancing,
The cathedral bells are ringing
For devotions joy entrancing.
Lights and stars flash out and vanish :
Thus our martyrs soul unfearing
Took its flight. Force could not banish
Secrets trusted to his hearing.
Glance, ye lights Sing, youthful chorus
Children, raise your tuneful voices!
If ye can, make plain before us
How one star the rest rejoices.
NO door has my house,
No house has my door;
And in and out ever
I carry my store.
No grate has my kitchen,
No kitchen my grate;
Yet roasts it and boils it
Both early and late.
My bed has no trestles,
My trestles no bed;
Yet merrier moments
No mortal eer led.
My cellar is lofty,
My barn is full deep,
From top to the bottom,
There lie I and sleep.
And soon as I waken,
All moves on its race;
My place has no fixture,
My fixture no place.
MY mistress, where sits she?
What is it that charms?
The absent shes rocking,
Held fast in her arms.
In pretty cage prisond
She holds a bird still 5
Yet lets him fly from her,
Whenever he will.
He pecks at her finger,
And pecks at her lips,
And hovers and flutters,
And round her he skips.
Then hasten thou homeward,
In fashion to be;
If thou hast the maiden,
She also hath thee.
SONG OF THE EMIGRANTS.
HALTING, hurrying, hurrying, halting.
Be henceforth like men of worth :
Useful labor is exalting
And deserves to rule the earth.
Thee to follow is a pleasure j
He who heeds thee finds the treasure
Of a glorious fatherland !
Hail the leader! Hail the band !
Thou the strength and burden bearest,
Thou art patron of our lives,
Honor with the old thou sharest,
Givest young men work and wives;
Mutual confidence arouses
Men to build them cosy houses,
Neat with gardens, lawns and woods,
Strong in helpful neighborhoods.
On the highways wisely planted
Men find comfort in new inns,
And the immigrant is granted
All the land his courage wins.
Therefore let us hasten, brothers,
Let us settle with the others
In the new-found fatherland !
Hail, O leader Hail, 0 band !
EXPLANATION OF AN ANCIENT WOODCUT
HANS SACHS POETICAL MISSION.
EARLY Within his workshop here,
On Sundays stands our master dear;
His dirty apron he puts away,
And a cleanly doublet wears to-day;
Lets waxd thread, hammer and pincers rest,
And lays his awl within his chest;
The seventh day he takes repose
From many pulls and many blows.
Soon as the spring sun meets his view
Repose begets him labor anew;
He feels that he holds within his brain
A little world, that broods there amain,
And that begins to a<5t and to live,
Which he to others would gladly give.
He had a skilful eye and true,
And was full kind and loving too.
For contemplation, clear and pure,>
For making all his own again, sure;
He had a tongue that charmd when twas
And graceful and light flowd ev*ry word ;
Which made the Muses in him rejoice,
The Master-singer of their choice.
And now a maiden enterd there,
With swelling breast, and body fair;
With footing firm she took her place,
And movd with stately, noble grace;
She did not walk in wanton mood,
Nor look around with glances lewd.
She held a measure in her hand,
Her girdle was a golden band,
A wreath of corn was on her head,
Her eye the days bright lustre shed;
Her name is honest Industry,
Else, Justice, Magnanimity.
She enterd with a kindly greeting;
He felt no wonder at the meeting,
For, kind and fair as she might be,
He long had known her, fancied he.
I have selected thee, she said,
From all who earths wild mazes tread,
That thou shouldst have clear-sighted sense,
And naught thats wrong shouldst eer com-
When others run in strange confusion,
Thy gaze shall see through each illusion ;
When others dolefully complain,
Thy cause with jesting thou shalt gain,
Honor and right shalt value duly,
In everything a<5l simply, truly,
Virtue and godliness proclaim,
And call all evil by its name,
Naught soften down, attempt no quibble,
Naught polish up, naught vainly scribble.
The world shall stand before thee, then,
As seen by Albert DUrers ken,
In manliness and changeless life,
In inward strength, with firmness rife.
Fair Natures Genius by the hand
Shall lead thee on through every land,
Teach thee each different life to scan,
Show thee the wondrous ways of man,
His shifts, confusions, thrustings and drub-
Pushings, tearings, pressings and rubbings;
The varying madness of the crew,
The anthills ravings bring to view;
But thou shalt see all this expressd
As though twere in a magic chest.
Write these things down for folks on earth,
In hopes they may to wit give birth.
Then she a window opend wide,
And showd a motley crowd outside,
All kinds of beings neath the sky,
As in his writings one may spy.
Our master dear was, after this,
On Nature thinking, full of bliss,
When towrd him, from the other side,
He saw an aged woman glide;
The name she bears, Historia,
With footstep tottering and unstable
She draggd a large and wooden carvd table,
Where, with wide sleeves and human mien,
The Lord was catechizing seen ;
Adam, Eve, Eden, the Serpents seduCtion,
Gomorr.ah and Sodoms awful destruction,
The twelve illustrious women, too,
That mirror of honor brought to view ;
All kinds of bloodthirstiness, murder and sin;
The twelve wicked tyrants also were in,
Vx Vv iJ*.
And all kinds of goodly dodlrine and law;
Saint Peter with his scourge you saw,
With the worlds ways dissatisfied,
And by our Lord with power supplied.
Her train and dress, behind and before,
And een the seams, were painted oer
With tales of worldly virtue and crime.
Our master viewd all this for a time;
The sight right gladly he surveyd,
So useful for him in his trade,
Whence he was able to procure
Example good and precept sure,
Recounting all with truthful care,
As though he had been present there.
His spirit seemd from earth to fly,
He neer had turnd away his eye;
Did he not just behind him hear
A rattle of bells approaching near?
And now a fool doth catch his eye,
With goat and apes leap drawing nigh,
A merry interlude preparing
With fooleries and jests unsparing.
Behind him, in a line drawn out,
He draggd all fools, the lean and stout,
The great and little, the empty and full,
All too witty, and all too dull;
A lash he flourishd overhead,
As though a dance of apes he led,
Abusing them with bitterness,
As though his wrath would neer grow less.
While on this sight our master gazd,
His head was growing well-nigh crazd:
What words for all could he eer find,
Could such a medley be combind ?
Could he continue with delight
For evermore to sing and write?
When lo, from out a clouds dark bed
In at the upper window sped
The Muse, in all her majesty,
As fair as our lovd maids we see.
With clearness she around him threw
Her truth, that ever stronger grew.
I to ordain thee come, she spake :
So prosper, and my blessing take !
The holy fire that slumbring lies
Within thee, in bright flames shall rise;
Yet that thine ever-restless life
May still with kindly strength be rife,
I, for thine inward spirits calm,
Have granted nourishment and balm,
That rapture may thy soul imbue,
Like some fair blossom bathd in dew.
Behind his house then secretly
Outside the doorway pointed she,
Where, in a shady garden-nook,
A beauteous maid with downcast look
Was sitting where a stream was flowing,
With elder bushes near it growing.
She sat beneath an apple tree,
And naught around her seemd to see.
Her lap was full of roses fair,
Which in a wreath she twind with care,
And, with them, leaves and blossoms blended:
For whom was that sweet wreath intended ?
Thus sat she, modest and retird,
Her bosom throbbd, with hope inspird ;
Such deep forebodings filld her mind,
No room for wishing could she find,
And with the thoughts that oer it flew,
Perchance a sigh was mingled too.
But why should sorrow cloud thy brow?
That, dearest love, which fills thee now
Is fraught with joy and ecstasy,
Prepard in one alone for thee,
That he within thine eye may find
Solace when fortune proves unkind,
And be newborn through many a kiss,
That he receives with inward bliss;
Wheneer he clasps thee to his breast
May he from all his toils find rest;
When he in thy dear arms shall sink
May he new life and vigor drink:
Fresh joys of youth shalt thou obtain,
In merry jest rejoice again.
With raillery and roguish spite
Thou now shalt tease him, now delight.
Thus Love will nevermore grow old,
Thus will the minstrel neer be cold !
While he thus lives, in secret blessd,
Above him in the clouds doth rest
An oak-wreath, verdant and sublime,
Placed on his brow in after-time;
While they are banishd to the slough,
Who their great master disavow.
THOUGHTS ON JESUS CHRISTS DESCENT INTO
WHAT wondrous noise is heard around !
Through heaven exulting voices sound,
A mighty army marches on.
By thousand millions followd, lo,
To yon dark place makes haste to go
Gods Son, descending from His throne !
He goesthe tempests round Him break,
As Judge and Hero cometh He;
He goesthe constellations quake,
The sun, the world quake fearfully.
Isee Him in His vidlor-car,
On fiery axles borne afar,
Who on the cross for us expird.
The triumph to yon realms He shows,
Remote from earth, where star neer glows,
The triumph He for us acquird.
He cometh, Hell to extirpate,
Whom He, by dying, well nigh killd;
He shall pronounce her fearful fate :
Hark! now the curse is straight fulfilld.
Hell sees the vidtor come at last,
She feels that now her reign is past,
She quakes and fears to meet His sight;
She knows His thunders terrors dread,
In vain she seeks to hide her head,
Attempts to fly, but vain is flight;
Vainly she hastes to 'scape pursuit
And to avoid her Judges eye;
The Lords fierce wrath restrains her foot
Like brazen chains,she cannot fly.
Here lies the Dragon, trampled down,
He lies, and feels Gods angry frown,
He feels, and grinneth hideously ;
He feels Hells speechless agonies;
A thousand times he howls and sighs:
O burning flames! quick, swallow me!
There lies he in the fiery waves,
By torments rackd and pangs infernal,
Instant annihilation craves,
And hears those pangs will be eternal.
ARTIST : K. KOGLER.
SONG OF THK EMIGRANT
Those mighty squadrons, too, are here,
The partners of his cursd career,
Yet far less bad than he were they.
Here lies the countless throng combind,
In black and fearful crowds entwind,
While round him fiery tempests play ;
He sees how they the Judge avoid,
He sees the storm upon them feed,
Yet is not at the sight oerjoyd,
Because his pangs een theirs exceed.
The Son of Man in triumph passes
Down to Hells wild and black morasses,
And there unfolds His majesty.
Hell cannot bear the bright array,
For, since her first created day,
Darkness alone eer governd she.
She lay remote from evry light,
With torments filld in Chaos here;
God turnd forever from her sight
His radiant features glory clear.
Within the realms she calls her own,
She sees the splendor of the Son,
His dreaded glories shining forth;
She sees Him clad in rolling thunder,
She sees the rocks all quake with wonder
When God before her stands in wrath.
She sees He comes her Judge to be,
She feels the awful pangs inside her,
Herself to slay endeavors she,
But een this comfort is denied her.
Now looks she back, with pains untold,
Upon those happy times of old,
When all these glories gave her joy ;
When yet her heart revered the truth,
When her glad soul, in endless youth
And rapture dwelt, without alloy.
She calls to mind with maddend thought
How over man her wiles prevaild;
To take revenge on God she sought,
And feels the vengeance it entaild.
God was made man, and came to earth.
Then Satan cried with fearful mirth:
Een He my vi<5tim now shall be !"
He sought to slay the Lord Most High,
The worlds Creator now must die;
But, Satan, endless woe to thee !'
Thou thoughtst to overcome Him then,
Rejoicing in His suffering;
But He in triumph comes again
To bind thee: Death! where is thy sting?
Speak, Hell! where is thy victory?
Thy power destroyd and scatterd see!
Knowst thou not now the Highests might?
See, Satan, see thy rule overthrown!
By thousand-varying pangs weighd down,
Thou dwellst in dark and endless night.
As though by lightning struck thou liest,
No gleam of rapture far or wide;
In vain! no hope thou there descriest,
For me alone Messiah died !
A howling rises through the air,
A trembling fills each dark vault there,
When Christ to Hell is seen to come.
She snarls with rage, but needs must cower
Before our mighty Heros power;
He signsand Hell is straightway dumb.
Before His voice the thunders break,
On high His vi6tor-banner blows;
Een angels at His fury quake,
When Christ to the dread judgment goes.
Now speaks He, and His voice is thunder,
He speaks, the rocks are rent in sunder,
His breath is like devouring flames.
Thus speaks He: Tremble, ye accursd !
He who from Eden hurld you erst,
Your kingdoms overthrow proclaims.
Look up My children once were ye,
Your arms against Me then ye turnd,
Ye fell, that ye might sinners be,
Yeve now the wages that ye earnd.
My greatest foemen from that day,
Ye led My dearest friends astray,
As ye had fallen, man must fall.
To kill him evermore ye sought,
They all shall die the death, ye thought;
But howl l for Me Ive won them all.
For them alone did I descend,
For them prayd, sufferd, perishd I.
Ye neer shall gain your wicked end;
Who trusts in Me shall never die.
In endless chains here lie ye now,
Nothing can save you from the slough,
Not boldness, not regret for crime.
Lie, then, and writhe in brimstone fire !
Twas ye yourselves drew down Mine ire,
Lie and lament throughout all time !
And also ye, whom I selected,
Een ye forever I disown,
For ye My saving grace rejected ;
Ye murmur ? blame yourselves alone!
Ye might have livd with Me in bliss,
For I of yore had promisd this;
Ye sinnd, and all My precepts slighted.
Wrappd in the sleep of sin ye dwelt,
Now is My fearful judgment felt,
By a just doom your guilt requited.
Thus spake He, and a fearful storm
From Him proceeds, the lightnings glow,
The thunders seize each wicked form,
And hurl them in the gulf below.
The God-man closeth Hells sad doors ;
In all His majesty He soars
From those dark regions back to light:
He sitteth at the Fathers side.
0 friends, what joy doth this betide!
For us, for us He still will fight!
The angels sacred choir around
Rejoice before the mighty Lord,
So that all creatures hear the sound:
Zebaoths God be aye adord !
THE DROPS OF NECTAR.
HEN Minerva, to give pleasure
To Prometheus, her well-lovd one,
Brought a brimming bowl of nedtar
From the glorious realms of heaven
As a blessing for his creatures,
And to pour into their bosoms
Impulses for arts ennobling,
She with rapid footstep hastend,
Fearing Jupiter might see her,
And the golden goblet trembled,
And there fell a few drops from it
On the verdant plain beneath her.
Then the busy bees flew thither
Straightway, eagerly to drink them,
And the butterfly came quickly
That he, too, might find a drop there ;
Even the misshapen spider
Thither crawld and suckd with vigor.
To a happy end they tasted,
They, and other gentle insects !
For with mortals now divide they
Artthat noblest gift of all.
YOUNG woman, may God bless thee,
Thee and the sucking infant
Upon thy breast!
Let me, gainst this rocky wall,
Neath the elm trees shadow,
Lay aside my burden,
Near thee take my rest.
What vocation leads thee,
While the day is burning,
Up this dusty path ?
Bringst thou goods from out the town
Round the country ?
Smilst thou, stranger,
At my question ?
From the town no goods I bring.
Cool is now the evening;
Show to me the fountain
Whence thou drinkest,
Woman young and kind!
Up the rocky pathway mount;
Go thou first! Across the thicket
Leads the pathway towrd the cottage
That I live in.
To the fountain
Whence I drink.
Signs of mans arranging hand
See I mid the trees!
Not by thee these stones were joind,
Nature, who so freely scatterest!
Up, still up I
Lo, a mossy architrave is here !
I discern thee, fashioning spirit!
On the stone thou hast impressd thy seal.
Onward, stranger 1
Over an inscription am I treading 1
Tis effaced 1
Ye are seen no longer,
Words so deeply graven,
Who your masters true devotion
Should have shown to thousand grandsons!
At these stones, why
Starts! thou, stranger?
Many stones are lying yonder
Round my cottage.
Through the thicket,
Turning to the left,
Ye Muses and ye Graces!
This, then, is my cottage.
Tis a ruind temple!
Just below it, see,
Springs the fountain
Whence I drink.
Thou dost hover
Oer thy grave, all glowing,
Genius! while upon thee
Hath thy masterpiece
Thou Immortal One!
Stay, a cup Ill fetch thee
Whence to drink.
Ivy circles thy slender
Form so graceful and godlike.
How ye rise on high
From the ruins,
And thou, their lonely sister yonder,
Dusky moss upon thy sacred head,
Lookest down in mournful majesty
On thy brethrens figures
At thy feet!
In the shadow of the bramble
Earth and rubbish veil them,
Lofty grass is waving oer them !
Is it thus thou, Nature, prizest
Thy great masterpieces masterpiece?
Carelessly destroyest thou
Thine own sandtuary,
Sowing thistles there?
How the infant sleeps!
Wilt thou rest thee in the cottage,
Stranger? Wouldst thou rather
In the open air still linger ?
Now tis cool! take thou the child
While I go and draw some water.
Sleep on, darling! sleep !
Sweet is thy repose !
How, with heaven-born health imbued,
Peacefully he slumbers !
O thou, born among the ruins
Spread by great antiquity,
On thee rest her spirit!
He whom it encircles
Will, in godlike consciousness,
Evry day enjoy.
Full of germ, unfold,
As the smiling springtimes
Outshining all thy fellows!
And when the blossoms husk is faded,
May the full fruit shoot forth
From out thy breast,
And ripen in the sunshine!
God bless him !Is he sleeping still ?
To the fresh draught I naught can add,
Saving a crust of bread for thee to eat.
I thank thee well.
How fair the verdure all around!
My husband soon
Will home return
From labor. Tarry, tarry, man,
And with us eat our evening meal.
Ist here ye dwell?
Yonder, within those walls we live.
My father twas who built the cottage
Of tiles and stones from out the ruins.
Tis here we dwell.
He gave me to a husbandman,
And in our arms expird.
Hast thou been sleeping, dearest heart ?
How lively, and how full of play!
Nature, thou ever budding one,
Thou formest each for life's enjoyments,
And, like a mother, all thy children dear,
Blessest with that sweet heritage,a home
The swallow builds the cornice round,
Unconscious of the beauties
She plasters up.
The caterpillar spins around the bough,
To make her brood a winter house;
And thou dost patch, between antiquitys
Most glorious relics,
For thy mean use,
O man, an humble cot,
Enjoyest e'en 'mid tombs !
Farewell, thou happy woman t
Thou wilt not stay, then ?
May God preserve thee,
And bless thy boy !
A happy journey!
Whither conducts the path
Across yon hill ?
How far from hence ?
Tis full three miles.
O Nature, guide me on my way!
The wandering stranger guide',
Who oer the tombs
Of holy bygone times
To a kind sheltering place,
From North winds safe,
And where a poplar grove
! Shuts out the noontide ray !
And when I come
Home to my cot
Illumind by the setting sun,
Let me embrace a wife like this,
Her infant in her arms!
Thereupon he tracd, with pointed finger,
And with anxious care, upon the forest,
At the utmost verge, where the strong sun-
From the shining ground appeard refle&ed,
Tracd the figure of a lovely maiden,
Fair in form, and clad in graceful fashion,
Fresh the cheeks beneath her brown locks
And the cheeks possessd the selfsame color
As the finger that had servd to paint
O thou boy! exclaimd I then, what
In his school receivd thee as his pupil,
Teaching thee so truthfully and quickly
Wisely to begin, and well to finish?
Whilst I still was speaking, lo, a zephyr
Softly rose, and set the tree-tops moving,
Curling all the wavelets on the river,
And the perfect maidens veil, too, filld it,
And to make my wonderment still greater,
Soon the maiden set her foot in motion.
On she came, approaching towrd the station
Where still sat I with my arch instructor.
As now all, yes, all thus movd together,
Flowers, rivers, trees, the veil,all moving,
And the gentle foot of that most fair one,
Can ye think that on my rock I lingerd,
Like a rock, as though fast-chaind and silent?
ARTISTS EVENING SONG.
pH, would that some celestial flower
pL Might fill the world with rapture!
y That inspirations blissful power
y) My inmost soul might capture !
The feeling takes me in control,
My weakness makes me stumble;
Ah, Nature, recognize my soul,
Thy worshipper though humble!
How many a long and weary year
My heart has vainly waited,
As on a meadow wan and sere,
For fountains uncreated!
Ah, Nature, how I yearn for thee,
Thy love and faith consoling !
A wondrous river full and free
Through paradises rolling.
And all my song and all my strength
Thou turnest to endeavor,
Until my narrow path at length
Shall widen out forever.
EXPLANATION OF AN AN-
A YOUNG fig tree its form lifts high
Within a beauteous garden;
And see, a goat is sitting by,
As if he were its warden.
But O Quirites, how one errs!
The tree is guarded badly;
For round the other side there whirrs
And hums a beetle madly.
The hero with his well-maild coat
Nibbles the branches tall so;
A mighty longing feels the goat
Gently to climb up also.
And so, my friends, ere long ye see
The tree all leafless standing;
It looks a type of misery,
Help of the gods demanding.
Then listen, ye ingenuous youth,
Who hold wise saws respedted:
From he-goat and from beetles tooth
A tree should be protected !
WHILE he is markd by vision clear
Who fathoms Natures treasures,
The man may follow, void of fear,
Who her proportions measures.
Though for one mortal, it is true,
These trades may both be fitted,
Yet, that the things themselves are two
Must always be admitted.
Once on a time there livd a cook
Whose skill was past disputing,
Who in his head a fancy took
To try his luck at shooting.
So, gun in hand, he sought a spot
Where stores of game were breeding.
And there ere long a cat he shot
That on young birds was feeding.
This cat he fancied was a hare,
Forming a judgment hasty,
So servd it up for peoples fare,
Well-spicd, and in a pasty.
Yet many a guest with wrath was filld
(All who had noses tender):
The cat thats by the sportsman killd
No cook a hare can render.
THERE livd ill the desert a holy man
To whom a goat-footed Faun one day
Paid a visit, and thus began
To his surprise: I entreat thee to pray
That grace to me and my friends may be given,
That we may be able to mount to heaven,
For great is our thirst for heavnly bliss.
The holy man made answer to this :
Much danger is lurking in thy petition,
Nor will it be easy to gain admission;
Thou dost not come with an angels salute;
For I see thou wearest a cloven foot.
The wild man pausd, and then answerd he:
What doth my goats foot matter to thee?
Full many Ive known into heaven to pass
Straight and with ease, with the head of an
1HAD a fellow as my guest,
Not knowing he was such a pest,
And gave him just my usual fare;
He ate his fill of what was there,
And for desert my best things swallowd;
Soon as his meal was oer, what followd?
Led by the Deuce to a neighbor he went,
And talkd of my food to his hearts content:
The soup might surely have had more spice,
The meat was ill-brownd, and the wine wasnt
A thousand curses alight on his head !
Tis a critic, I vow! Let the dog be struck
OVER the meadows, and down the stream,
And through the garden-walks straying,
He plucks the flowers that fairest seem ;
His throbbing heart brooks no delaying.
His maiden then comesoh, what ecstasy!
Thy flowers thou givst for one glance of her
The gardner next door oer the hedge sees the
Im not such a fool as that, in good truth;
My pleasure is ever to cherish each flower,
And see that no birds my fruit eer devour.
But when tis ripe, your money, good neigh-
Twas not for nothing I took all this labor !
And such, methinks, are the author-tribe.
The one his pleasures around him strews,
That his friends, the public, may reap, if
The other would fain make them all subscribe.
THE DILETTANTE AND THE
A BOY a pigeon once possessd,
In gay and brilliant plumage dressd ;
He lovd it well, and in boyish sport
Its food to take from his mouth he taught,
And in his pigeon he took such pride,
That his joy to others he needs must confide.
An aged fox near the place chancd to dwell,
Talkative, clever, and learned as well;
The boy his society used to prize,
Hearing with pleasure his wonders and lies.
My friend the fox my pigeon must see!
He ran, and stretchd mongst the bushes lay
Look, fox, at my pigeon, my pigeon so fair!
His equal Im sure thou hast lookd upon
Letssee !The boy gave it.Tis really
And yet, it is far from complete, I must add.
The feathers, for instance, how short! Tis
So he set to work straightway to pluck the
The boy screamd.Thou must now stronger,
Or else twill be ugly, unable to fly.
Soon twas strippdoh, the villain !and
torn all to pieces,
The boy was heart-broken,and so my tale
He who sees in the boy shadowd forth his
Should be on his guard gainst the foxs whole
ON bridges small and bridges great
Stand Nepomuks in evry state,
Of bronze, wood, painted, or of stone,
Some small as dolls, some giants grown;
Each passer must worship before Nepomuk,
Who to die on a bridge chancd to have the
When once a man with head and ears
A saint in peoples eyes appears,
Or has been sentenced piteously
Beneath the hangmans hand to die,
Hes as a noted person prizd,
In portrait is immortalizd.
Engravings, woodcuts, are supplied,
And through the world spread far and wide.
Upon them all is seen his name,
And evry one admits his claim;
Even the image of the Lord
Is not with greater zeal adord.
Strange fancy of the human race!
Half sinner frail, half child of grace
We see Herr Werther of the story
In all the pomp of woodcut glory.
His worth is first made duly known
By having his sad features shown
At evry fair the country round;
In evry alehouse too theyre found.
His stick is pointed by each dunce:
The ball would reach his brain at once!
And each says, oer his beer and bread:
Thank Heavn that 'tis not we are dead !
UR rides in all directions bend,
For business or for pleasure,
Yet yelpings on our steps attend,
And barkings without measure.
The dog that in our stable dwells,
After our heels .is striding,
And all the while his noisy yells
But show that we are riding.
ONE day a shameless and impudent wight
Went intoa shop full of steel wares bright,
Arrangd with art upon evry shelf.
He fancied they all were meant for himself;
And so, while the patient owner stood by,
The shining goods needs must handle and try,
And valued,for how should a fool better
The bad things high, and the good ones low,
And all with an easy self-satisfied face;
Then, having bought nothing, he left the
The tradesman now felt sorely vexd,
So when the fellow went there next,
A lock of steel made quite red hot.
The other cried upon the spot:
Such wares as these, whod ever buy?
The steel is tarnishd shamefully;
Then pulld it like a fool about,
But soon set up a piteous shout,
Pray, whats the matter? the shopman
The other screamd: Faith, a very cool
A DRAGON-FLY with beauteous wing
Is hovring oer a silvry spring;
I watch its motions with delight,
Now dark its colors seem, now bright;
Chameleon-like appear now blue,
Now red, and now of greenish hue.
Would it would come still nearer me,
That I its tints might better see!
It hovers, flutters, resting neer !
But hush! it settles on the mead.
I have it safe now, I declare!
And when its form I closely view,
Tis of a sad and dingy blue
Such, Joy-Disse<5tor, is thy case indeed !
PLAYING AT PRIESTS.
WITHIN a town where parity
According to old form we see,
That is to say, where Catholic
And Protestant no quarrels pick,
And where, as in his fathers day,
Each worships God in his own way,
We Luthran children used to dwell,
By songs and sermons taught us well.
The Catholic clingclang in truth
Sounded more pleasing to our youth,
For all that we encounterd there
To us seemd varied, joyous, fair.
As children, monkeys, and mankind
To ape each other are inclind,
We soon, the time to while away,
A game at priests resolvd to play.
Their aprons all our sisters lent
For copes, which gave us great content;
And handkerchiefs, embroiderd oer,
Instead of stoles we also wore;
Gold paper, whereon beasts were tracd,
The bishops brow as mitre gracd.
Through house and garden thus in state
We strutted early, strutted late,
Repeating with all proper undtion,
Incessantly each holy fundlion.
The best was wanting to the game ;
We knew that a sonorous ring
Was here a most important thing;
But Fortune to our rescue came,
For on the ground a halter lay ;
We were delighted, and at once
Made it a bellrope for the nonce,
And kept it moving all the day;
In turns each sister and each brother
A died as sexton to another;
All helpd to swell the joyous throng;
The whole proceeded swimmingly,
And since no adtual bell had we,
We all in chorus sang, Ding dong !
Our guileless childs-sport long was hushd
In memorys tomb, like some old lay;
And yet across my mind it rushd
With pristine force the other day.
The New-Poetic Catholics
In evry point its aptness fix !
SONGS are like painted window-panes!
In darkness wrappd the church remains,
If from the market-place we view it;
Thus sees the ignoramus through it.
No wonder that he deems it tame,
And all his life twill be the same.
But let us now inside repair,
And greet the holy Chapel there!
At once the whole seems clear and bright,
Each ornament is bathd in light,
And fraught with meaning to the sight.
Gods children thus your fortune prize,
Be edified, and feast your eyes!
GOD to his untaught children sent
Law, order, knowledge, art, from high,
And evry heavnly favor lent,
The worlds hard lot to qualify.
They knew not how they should behave,
For all from Heavn stark-naked came;
But Poetry their garments gave,
. And then not one had cause for shame.
I PICKD a rustic nosegay lately,
And bore it homewards, musing greatly;
When, heated by my hand, I found
The heads all drooping towrd the ground
I placd them in a well-coold glass,
And what a wonder came to pass!
The heads soon raisd themselves once more,
The stalks were blooming as before,
And all were in as good a case
As when they left their native place.
* # ^ # *
So felt I, when I wondring heard
My song to foreign tongues transferrd.
CUPID AND PSYCHE.
A PLAN the Muses entertaind
Methodically to impart
To Psyche the poetic art;
Prosaic-pure her soul remaind.
No wondrous sounds escapd her lyre
Een in the fairest Summer night;
But Amor came with glance of fire,-
The lesson soon was learnd aright.
THE DEATH OF THE FLY.
WITH eagerness he drinks the treachrous
Nor stops to rest, by the first taste misled;
Sweet is the draught, but soon all power of
He finds has from his tender members fled;
No longer has he strength to plume his wing,
No longer strength to raise his head, poor
Een in enjoyments hour his life he loses,
His little foot to bear his weight refuses;
So on he sips, and ere his draught is oer,
Death veils his thousand eyes for evermore.
BY THE RIVER.
WHEN by the broad stream thou dost
Oft shallow is its sluggish flood;
Then, when thy fields thou tendest well,
It oer them spreads its slime and mud.
The ships descend ere daylight wanes,
The prudent fisher upward goes;
Round reef and rock ice casts its chains,
And boys at will the pathway close.
To this attend, then, carefully,
And what thou wouldst, that execute 1
Neer linger, neer oerhasty be,
For time moves on with measurd foot.
THE FOX AND CRANE.
NCE two persons uninvited
Came to join my dinner table;
For the nonce they livd united,
Fox and crane yclept in fable.
Civil greetings passd between us;
Then I pluckd some pigeons tender
For the fox of jackal genus,
Adding grapes in full-grown splendor.
Long-neckd flasks I put as dishes
For the crane, without delaying,
Filld with gold and silver fishes,
In the limpid water playing.
Had ye witnessd Reynard planted
At his flat plate, all demurely,
! Ye with envy must have granted :
Neer was such a gourmand, surely!
While the bird with circumspection
On one foot, as usual, cradled,
From the flasks his fish-refeCtion
With his bill and long neck ladled.
One the pigeons praisd,the other,
As they went, extolld the fishes,
Each one scoffing at his brother
For preferring vulgar dishes.
% sj: * sjc
If thou wouldst preserve thy credit,
When thou askest folks to guzzle
At thy board, take care to spread it
Suited both for bill and muzzle.
THE FOX AND HUNTSMAN.
TJARD tis on a foxs traces il To arrive, midst forest-glades; Hopeless utterly the chase is, If his flight the huntsman aids. A FEAST was in a village spread, ii It was a wedding-day, they said. The parlor of the inn I found, And saw the couples whirling round, Each lass attended by her lad, And all seemd loving, blithe and glad;
And so tis with many a wonder (Why A B make Ab in fadt), Over which we gape and blunder, And our head and brains distrait. But on my. asking for the bride, A fellow with a stare replied: Tis not the place that point to raise I Were only dancing in her honor; We now have danc'd three nights and days. And not bestowd one thought upon her. sÂ£ sjc Whoeer in life employs his eyes Such cases oft will recognize.
THE STORKS VOCATION.
'T'HE stork who worms and frogs devours 1 That in our ponds reside, Why should he dwell on high church-towers, With which hes not allied? BURIAL. 'TO the grave one day from a house they bore 1 A maiden;
Incessantly he chatters there, And gives our ears no rest; But neither old nor young can dare To drive him from his nest. To the window the citizens went to explore : In splendor they livd, and with wealth as of yore Their banquets were laden. Then thought they: The maid to the tomb is now borne;
I humbly ask it,how can he Give of his title proof, Save by his happy tendency To soil the churchs roof? We too from our dwellings ere long must be torn, And he that is left our departure to mourn, To our riches will be the successor, For some one must be their possessor.
,0 fl, -
THE FROGS. THREATENING SIGNS.
A POOL was once congeald with frost; t\ The frogs, in its deep waters lost, No longer dard to croak or spring; But promisd, being half asleep, If sufferd to the air to creep, As very nightingales to sing. TF Venus in the evening sky 1 Is seen in radiant majesty, If rod-like comets, red as blood, Are mongst the constellations viewd, Out springs the Ignoramus, yelling: The star's exaltly oer my dwelling 1 What woful prospelt, ah, for me! Then calls his neighbor mournfully:
A thaw dissolvd the ice so strong, They proudly steerd themselves along, When landed, squatted on the shore, And croakd as loudly as before. Behold that awful sign of evil, Portending woe to me, poor devil! My mothers asthma neer will leave her, My child is sick with wind and fever;
I dread the illness of my wife,
A week has passd devoid of strife,
And other things have reachd my ear;
The Judgment-day has come, I fear!
His neighbor answers: 1 Friend, you re right!
Matters look very bad to-night.
Lets go a street or two, though, hence,
And gaze upon the stars from thence.
No change appears in either case.
Let each remain then in his place,
And wisely do the best he can,
Patient as any other man.
TO an apple-womans stall
Once some children nimbly ran ;
Longing much to purchase all,
They with joyous haste began
Snatching up the piles there raisd,
While with eager eyes they gazd
On the rosy fruit so nice ;
But when they found out the price,
Down they threw the whole theyd got,
Just as if they were red-hot.
# * * *
The man who gratis will his goods supply
Will never find a lack of folks to buy !
THE MOUNTAIN VILLAGE.
it '"THE mountain village was destroyd ;
1 But see how soon is filld the void !
Shingles and boards, as by magic arise,
The babe in his cradle and swaddling-clothes
How blessd to trust to Gods protection !
Behold a wooden new ereCtion,
So that, if sparks and wind but choose,
Gods self at such a game must lose!
PALM Sunday at the Vatican
They celebrate with palms;
With reverence bows each holy man,
And chants the ancient psalms.
Those very psalms are also sung
With olive boughs in hand,
While holly, mountain wilds among,
In place of palms must stand;
In fine, one seeks some twig thats green
And takes a willow rod,
So that the pious man may een
In small things praise his God.
And if ye have observd it well,
To gain whats fit yere able,
If ye in faith can but excel;
Such are the myths of fable.
Incense is but a tribute for the gods,
To mortals tis but poison.
THE smoke that from thine altar blows,
Can it the gods offend ?
For I observe thou holdst thy nose
Pray what does this portend?
Mankind deem incense to excel
Each other earthly thing,
So he that cannot bear its smell
No incense eer should bring.
With unmovd face by thee at least
To dolls is homage given;
If not obstructed by the priest
The scent mounts up to heaven.
CONFLICT OF WIT AND BEAUTY.
SIR WIT, who is so much esteemd,
And who is worthy of all honor,
Saw Beauty his superior deemd
By folks who lovd to gaze upon her;
At this he was most sorely vexd.
Then came Sir Breath (long known as fit
To represent the cause of wit),
Beginning, rudely, I admit,
To treat the lady with a text.
To this she hearkend not at all,
But hastend to his principal:
None are so wise, they say, as you,
Is not the world enough for two ?
If you are obstinate, good-bye!
If wise, to love me you will try,
For be assurd the world can neer
Give birth to a more handsome pair.
Fair daughters were by Beauty reard,
Wit had but dull sons for his lot;
So for a season it appeard
Beauty was constant, Wit was not.
But Wits a native of the soil,
So he returnd, workd, strove amain,
And foundsweet guerdon for his toil!
Beauty to quicken him again.
RAIN AND RAINBOW.
DURING a heavy storm it chancd
That from his room a cockney glancd
At the fierce tempest as it broke,
While to his neighbor thus he spoke:
The thunder has our awe inspird,
Our barns by lightning have been fird,
Our sins to punish, I suppose;
But in return, to soothe our woes,
See how the rain in torrents fell,
Making the harvest promise well!
But ist a rainbow that I spy
Extending oer the dark-gray sky?
With it Im sure we may dispense,
The colord cheat! The vain pretence !
Dame Iris straightway thus replied :
Dost dare my beauty to deride ?
In realms of space God stationd me
A type of better worlds to be
To eyes that from lifes sorrows rove
In cheerful hope to heavn above,
And, through the mists that hover here,
God and His precepts blessd revere.
Do thou, then, grovel like the swine,
And to the ground thy snout confine,
But suffer the enlightend eye
To feast upon my majesty.
T ONCE was fond of fools,
i And bid them come each day;
Then each one brought his tools,
The carpenter to play;
The roof to strip first choosing,
Another to supply,
The wood as trestles using,
To move it by-and-by,
While here and there they ran,
And knockd against each other;
To fret I soon began,
My anger could not smother,
So cried, Get out, ye fools!
At this they were offended ;
Then each one took his tools,
And so our friendship ended.
Since that, Ive wiser been,
And sit beside my door;
When one of them is seen,
I cry, Appear no more !
Hence, stupid knave! I bellow:
At this hes angry too:
You impudent old fellow!
And pray, sir, who are you ?
Along the streets we riot,
And revel at the fair;
But yet were pretty quiet,
And folks revile us neer.
Dont call us names, then, please !**-
At length I meet with ease,
For now they leave my door
Tis better than before!
THE COUNTRY SCHOOL-
A MASTER of a country school
Jumpd up one day from off his stool.
Inspird with firm resolve to try
To gain the best society;
So to the nearest baths he walkd,
And into the saloon he stalkd.
He felt quite startled at the door,
Neer having seen the like before.
To the first stranger made he now
A very low and graceful bow,
But quite forgot to bear in mind
That people also stood behind ;
His left-hand neighbors paunch he struck
A grievous blow, by great ill luck;
Pardon for this he first entreated,
And then in haste his bow repeated.
His right-hand neighbor next he hit,
And beggd him, too, to pardon it;
But on his granting his petition
Another was in like condition;
These compliments he paid to all,
Behind, before, across the hall;
At length one who could stand no more
Showd him impatiently the door.
5(C % >K sfc *
May many, pondring on their crimes,
A moral draw from this betimes!
As he proceeded on his way
He thought, I was too weak to-day;
To bow Ill neer again be seen ;
For goats will swallow what is green.
Across the fields he now must speed,
Not over stumps and stones, indeed,
But over meads and cornfields sweet,
Trampling down all with clumsy feet.
A farmer met him by-and-by,
And didnt ask him: how? or why?
But with his fist saluted him.
I feel new life in every limb !
Our traveller cried in ecstasy.
Who art thou who thus gladdenst me?
May Heaven such blessings ever send !
Neer may I want a jovial friend !
THE LEGEND OF THE HORSESHOE.
WHAT time our Lord still walkd the earth,
Unknown, despisd, of humble birth,
And on Him many a youth attended
(His words they seldom comprehended),
It ever seemd to Him most meet
To hold His court in open street,
As under heavens broad canopy
One speaks with greater liberty.
The teachings of His blessed word
From out His holy mouth were heard;
Each market to a fane turnd He
With parable and simile.
One day, as towrd a town He rovd,
In peace of mind with those He lovd,
Upon the path a something gleamd:
A broken horseshoe twas, it seemd.
So to St. Peter thus He spake:
That piece of iron prithee take!
St. Peters thoughts had gone astray;
He had been musing on his way
Respecting the worlds government
A dream that always gives content,
For in the head tis checkd by naught;
This ever was his dearest thought. '
For him this prize was far too mean;
Had it a crown and sceptre been !
But surely twasnt worth the trouble
For half a horseshoe to bend double!
And so he turnd away his head
As if he heard not what was said.
The Lord, forbearing towrd all men,
Himself pick'd up the horseshoe then
(He neer again like this stoopd down).
And when at length they reachd the town,
Before a smithy He remaind,
And there a penny fort obtaind.
As they the market-place went by,
Some beauteous cherries caught His eye;
Accordingly He bought as many
As could be purchasd for a penny,
And then, as oft His wont had been,
Placd them within his sleeve unseen.
They went out by another gate,
Oer plains and fields proceeding straight;
No house or tree was near the spot;
The sun was bright, the day was hot;
In short, the weather being such,
A draught of water was worth much.
The Lord walkd on before them all,
And let, unseen, a cherry fall.
St. Peter rushd to seize it bold,
As though an apple twere of gold;
His palate much approvd the berry.
The Lord ere long another cherry
Once more let fall upon the plain;
St. Peter forthwith stoopd again.
The Lord kept making him thus bend
To pick up cherries without end.
For a long time the thing went on;
The Lord then said, in cheerful tone:
Hadst thou but movd when thou wert bid,
Thou of this trouble hadst been rid;
The man who small things scorns will next
By things still smaller be perplexd.
In these numbers be expressd
Meaning deep, neatli merry jest.
A FELLOW says: I own no school or
js'o master lives whom I acknowledge ;
And pray dont entertain the thought
'That from the dead I eer learnd aught.
This, if I rightly understand,
Means: Im a blockhead at first hand.
'HIE SOLDIERS CONSOLA-
NO in truth theres here no lack :
White the bread, the maidens black !
To another town, next night:
Black the bread, the maidens white !
THUS roll I, never taking ease,
My tub, like Saint Diogenes,
Now serious am, now seek to please;
Now love and hate in turns one sees ;
The motives now are those, now these;
Now nothings, now realities.
Thus roll I, never taking ease,
My tub, like Saint Diogenes.
NEITHER THIS NOR THAT.
IF thou to be a slave shouldst will,
Thoult get no pity, but fare ill;
And if a master thou would'st be,
The world will view it angrily;
And if in statu i/uo thou stay,
That thou art but a fool, theyll say.
THE WAY TO BEHAVE.
THOUGH tempers are bad, and peevish
Remember to ruffle thy brows, friend, neer;
And let not the fancies of women so fair
Eer serve thy pleasure in life to impair.
WHEN head and heart are busy, say,
What better can be found ?
Who neither loves nor goes astray,
Were better under ground.
AS BROAD AS ITS LONG.
MODEST men must needs endure,
And the bold must humbly bow;
Thus thy fates the same, be sure,
Whether bold or modest thou.
who with life makes sport
Can prosper never,
Who rules himself in naught,
Is a slave ever.
THE RULE OE LIFE.
IF thou wouldst live unruffled by care,
Let not the past torment thee eer;
As little as possible be thou annoyd,
And let the present be ever enjoyd;
Neer let thy breast with hate be supplied,
And to God the future confide.
SHOULD EER THE LOVELESS
SHOULD eer the loveless day remain
Obscurd by storms of hail and rain,
Thy charms thou showest never;
I tap at window, tap at door :
Come, lovd one, come appear once more !
Thou art as fair as ever!
THE SAME, EXPANDED.
IF thou wouldst live unruffled by care,
Let not the past torment thee eer;
If any loss thou hast to rue,
Act as though thou wert born anew;
Inquire the meaning of each day:
What each day means, itself will say;
In their own actions take thy pleasure,
What others do, thouIt duly treasure,
Neer let thy breast with hate be supplied,
And to God the future confide.
THE FAIR AT HUEHENEFELD.
July 25th, 1814.
1WENT with haughty nonchalance
To give the Fair a passing glance,
To see the pedlers at the booths,
And, using old Lavaters truths,
Once whisperd in my ear, to try
If I were wise yet. Bluffd was I.
The first I saw were soldiers gay,
Dressd in their very best array.
The stress and strain of war was done;
They had no wish for another begun.
Their fine coats for the girls had charms,
Who threw themselves in the soldiers arms.
Peasant and burgher stood amazd ;
The excellent lads were almost dazd;
Their pennies and pains were thoroughly
The cup of glory they had not tasted.
And so for the end they all stood waiting,
Not quite pleasd in contemplating.
Matrons and maidens with repose
Fitted themselves with wooden sabots.
You could see by their gestures, by their
That their hopes were set in lofty places.
THE LITTLE GIRLS WISH.
OH, would that some friend
A husband would send !
Tis such a nice game,
Mamma is my name.
One needs not to go
To school or to sew !
Then one can command ;
Has servants at hand !
Can choose her own dresses,
And, what I confess is
The nicest, have candy
And sugar-plums handy;
And go out to ride;
And at balls be a bride ;
And not have to ask
Papa and mamma, or be taken to task.
S a boy, reservd and naughty;
As a youth, a coxcomb and haughty;
As a man, for action inclind ;
As a graybeard, fickle in mind.
Upon thy grave will people read :
This was a very man, indeed !
THE remembrance of the Good
Keeps us ever glad in mood
The remembrance of the Fair
Makes a mortal rapture share.
The remembrance of ones Love
Blessd is, if it constant prove.
The remembrance of the One
Is the greatest joy thats known.
OLD age is courteousno one more:
For time after time he knocks at the door,
But nobody says, Walk in, sir, pray !
Yet turns he not from the door away,
But lifts the latch, and enters with speed,
And then they cry, A cool one, indeed !
RULE FOR MONARCHS.
IF men are never their thoughts to employ,
Take care to provide them a life full of joy;
But if to some profit and use thou wouldst
Take care to shear them, and then defend
HOW plain and height
With dewdrops are bright!
How pearls have crownd
The plants all around !
How sighs the breeze
Through thicket and trees!
How loudly in the suns clear rays
The sweet birds carol forth their lays!
But, ah above,
Where saw I my love,
Within her room,
Small, mantled in gloom,
Where sunlight was drownd,
How little there was earth to me,
With all its beauteous majesty !
ARTIST : B PLOCKHORST.
THE LEGEND OF THE HORSE-SHOE
PAULO POST FUTURI.
EEP ye not, ye children dear,
That as yet ye are unborn :
For each sorrow and each tear
Makes the fathers heart to mourn.
Patient be a short time to it,
Unproducd, and known to none;
If your father cannot do it,
By your mother twill be done.
THE FOOLS EPILOGUE.
MANY good works Ive done and ended,
Ye take the praiseIm not offended;
For in the world, Ive always thought
Each thing its true position hath sought.
When praisd for foolish deeds am I,
I set off laughing heartily;
When blamd for doing something good,
I take it in an easy mood.
If some one stronger gives me hard blows,
That its a jest, I feign to suppose;
But if tis one thats but my own like,
I know the way such folks to strike.
When Fortune smiles, I merry grow,
And sing in dulci jubilo;
When sinks her wheel, and tumbles me oer,
I think tis sure to rise once more.
In the sunshine of summer I neer lament,
Because the winter it cannot prevent;
And when the white snow-flakes fall around,
I don my skates, and am off with a bound.
Though I dissemble as I will,
The sun for me will neer stand still ;
The old and wonted course is run,
Until the whole of life is done;
Each day the servant like the lord
In turns comes home, and goes abroad;
If proud or humble the line they take,
They all must eat, drink, sleep and wake.
So nothing ever vexes me;
A61 like the fool, and wise yell be !
ON THE DIVAN.
HE who knows himself and others
Here will also see,
That the East and West, like brothers,
Parted neer shall be.
Thoughtfully to float forever
Tween two worlds, be mans endeavor!
So between the East and AVest
To revolve, be my behest!
IN His blessd name, who was His own
Who from all time makes making his voca-
The name of Him who makes our faith so
Love, confidence, activity and might;
In that Ones name, who, namd though oft
Unknown is ever in Reality:
As far as ear can reach, or eyesight dim,
Thou findest but the known resembling Him;
How high soeer thy fiery spirit hovers,
Its simile and type it straight discovers;
Onward thourt drawn, with feelings light
Whereer thou goest, smiling is the way;
No more thou numbrest, reckonest no time,
Each step is infinite, each step sublime.
What God would outwardly alone control,
And on His finger whirl the mighty Whole ?
He loves the inner world to move, to view
Nature in Him, Himself in Nature too,
So that what in Him works, and is, and lives,
The measure of His strength, His spirit gives.
Within us all a universe doth dwell;
And hence each peoples usage laudable,
That evry one the Best that meets his eyes
As God, yea een his God, doth recognize;
To Him both earth and heaven surrenders he,
Fears Him, and loves Him too, if that may be.
THE METAMORPHOSIS OF PLANTS.
THOU art confusd, my beloved, at seeing
the thousandfold union
Shown in this flowery troop, over the garden
Many a name dost thou hear assignd; one
Falls on thy listning ear, with a barbarian
None resembleth another, yet all their forms
have a likeness;
Therefore, a mystical law is by the chorus
Yes, a sacred enigma! O dearest friend,
could I only
Happily teach thee the word, which may
the mystery solve !
Closely observe how the plant, by little and
Step by step guided on, changeth to blossom
First from the seed it unravels itself, as soon i
as the silent
Fruit-bearing womb of the earth kindly
allows its escape,
And to the charms of the light, the holy, the
Trusteth the delicate leaves, feebly begin-
ning to shoot.
Simply slumberd the force in the seed; a
germ of the future,
Peacefully lockd in itself, neath the in-
Leaf and root, and bud, still void of color,
Thus doth the kernel, while dry, cover that
Upward then strives it to swell, in gentle
And, from the night where it dwelt, straight-
way ascendeth to light.
Yet still simple remaineth its figure, when first
it appeareth; |
And tis a token like this points out the
child mid the plants.
Soon a shoot, succeeding it, riseth on high,
Piling up node upon node, ever the primi-
Yet not ever alike: for the following leaf, as
thou seest, j
Ever produceth itself, fashiond in manifold j
Longer, more indented, in points and in parts
Which, all-deformd until now, slept in the
So at length it attaineth the noble and destind
Which, in full many a tribe, fills thee with
Many ribbd and toothd, on a surface juicy
Free and unending the shoot seemeth in
fulness to be;
Yet here Nature restraineth, with powerful
hands, the formation,
And to a perfecter end, guideth with soft-
ness its growth,
Less abundantly yielding the sap, contracting
So that the figure ere long gentler effedts
! Soon and in silence is checkd the growth of
the vigorous branches,
And the rib of the stalk fuller becometh in
Leafless, however, and quick the tenderer stem
And a miraculous sight doth the observer
Rangd in a circle, in numbers that now are
small, and now countless,
Gather the smaller-sizd leaves, close by the
side of their like.
Round the axis compressd the sheltering calyx
And, as the perfedlest type, brilliant-hued
Thus doth Nature bloom, in glory still nobler
Showing, in order arrangd, member on
Wonderment, fresh dost thou feel, as soon as
I the stem rears the flower
Over the scaffolding frail of the alternating
But this glory is only the new creations fore-
Yes, the leaf with its hues feeleth the hand
And on a sudden contracteth itself; the ten-
j derest figures,
j Twofold as yet, hasten on, destind to blend
I into one.
Lovingly now the beauteous pairs are standing
Gatherd in countless array, there where the
altar is raisd.
Hymen hovereth oer them, and scents deli-
cious and mighty
Stream forth their fragrance so sweet, all
things enlivning around.
Presently, parcelld out, unnumberd germs are
Sweetly conceald in the womb, where is
made perfect the fruit. |
Here doth Nature close the ring of her forces
Yet doth a new one at once cling to the
one gone before,
So that the chain be prolonged forever through
all generations, j
And that the whole may have life, een as i
enjoyd by each part. j
Now, my beloved one, turn thy gaze on the j
many-hued thousands j
Which, confusing no more, gladden the I
mind as they wave. j
Every plant unto thee proclaimeth the laws
Every floweret speaks louder and louder to
But if thou here canst decipher the mystic
words of the goddess,
Everywhere will they be seen, een though
the features are changd;
Creeping insects may linger, the eager butterfly
Plastic and forming may man change een
the figure decreed !
Oh, then, bethink thee, as well, how out of
the germ of acquaintance
Kindly intercourse sprang, slowly unfolding
| its leaves;
Soon how friendship with might unveild itself
in our bosoms,
And how Amor at length brought forth
blossom and fruit!
Think of the manifold ways wherein Nature
j hath lent to our feelings,
i Silently giving them birth, either the first
j or the last !
Yes, and rejoice in the present day For love
that is holy
I Seeketh the noblest of fruitsthat where
I the thoughts are the same,
Where the opinions agreethat the pair may,
in rapt contemplation,
Lovingly blend into onefind the more ex-
(Tv a ;"e>
THE SAGES AND THE PEOPLE.
NOW, brethren hasten to the grove !
The eager people push and shove.
From North, South, East and West their
For wisdom brings them, hither turning
Their hurrying steps. Tis light they love,
But not expensive is their learning ;
I beg you now your minds prepare
To read the text as they demand it!
Ye men of riddles, we declare
That you must teach us, full and fair,
Not darklyso we understand it:
Say is the world from everlasting ?
j I have no doubt of it, for casting
! A backward glance, if eer you came
To time without it, twould seem a shame 1
But will it end in smoke and flame ?
Most likely Yet its all the same !
. If God exists in deed and name,
Therell still be pleasant worlds in plenty.
What dost thou mean by Infinite ?
artist: h. kaulbach.
Why shouldst thou vex thyself with it?
Search thy own soul! If there is lacking
Infinity in mind and wit,
Take little thought for others backing !
But where and how is Thought evolvd?
Thou puttst a riddle never solvd;
The thinker thinks from hat to shoe,
And in a flash he gets the clue,
Unto the Where, the How, the Best.
And does my body house a soul ?
Twere well to ask thy brothers,
For, dost thou see, this life long guest,
This civil creature with its role
Of pleasing self, delighting others,
Is calld a soul, and I sustain it.
When Night is on, does sleep enchain it?
It cannot slip its lasting bond;
Thy body feels the power of sleep,
Which comes upon it from beyond;
The soul, too, feels the influence deep.
What dost thou mean by Spirit ? speak !
The thing calld Spirit, I confess,
Asks questionsnever answers.
Now, tell me what is happiness ?
Tis what the fearless urchin shows,
Who, with his comradesjolly dancers
With jingling pennies, gayly goes;
Full well the pudding-place he knows
I mean, he knows the baker !
What proof of immortality?
The best life in reality
j He leads who lives serene and meek
Builds firm and strong in perfect vows
And trusts all to his Maker!
Is wisdom or is folly best?
That scarcely needs reflection,
The wise in his own conceit,
Is not begrudged when wise men meet.
Does chance rule all and mere deception?
I take the old direction,
Get all the good I can from chance,
Enjoy deceptions fleeting glance ;
Their use and sport thou wouldst prefer so.
Is freedom of the will a lie ?
It seems as though it were so,
So keep a good stiff upper lip,
And if thou makst a final slip,
Thou wouldst preserve thy gravity.
Was I, a child, born in depravity?
Thy question I had much preferred
Not at this junction to have heard ;
Tis true thou hast inherited
A grievous load unmerited.
To ask the question was absurd!
Are we compelled to seek our best ?
artist: r. geiszler.
THE METAMORPHOSIS OF PLANTS,
If everybody were not blest,
In ever taking good suggestions,
Thou wouldst not ask such questions.
Make on thyself the first attempt,
And, if thou canst know thyself,
Let other people be exempt.
But everywhere rules greed for pelf!
Well! let the people have their gain,
The farthings of the balance
Thou must not grudge them; that is plain.
Now tell us how to use our talents,
Ere we forever drift apart.
The law of wisdom take to heart!
Avoid all questioners, my gallants !
GOD, SOUL AND WORLD.
WHO trusts in God
Fears not His rod.
This truth may be by all believd:
Whom God deceives is well deceivd.
How ? when ? and where ?No answer comes
from high ;
Thou waitst for the Because, and yet thou
askst not Why ?
If the whole is ever to gladden thee,
That whole in the smallest thing thou must see.
Water its living strength first shows
When obstacles its course oppose.
Transparent appears the radiant air,
Though steel and stone in its breast it may
At length theyll meet with fiery power,
And metal and stones on the earth will shower.
Whateer a living flame may surround,
No longer is shapeless, or earthly bound.
Tis now invisible, flies from earth,
And hastens on high to the place of its birth.
CHORDS are touchd bv Apollo,the
death-laden bow, too, he bendeth ;
While he the shepherdess charms, Python
he lays in the dust.
What is merciful censure? To make thy
faults appear smaller?
May be to veil them? No, no! Oer them
to raise thee on high !
Democratic food soon cloys on the multi-
But Ill wager, ere long, other thouIt give
Wi-iat in France has passd by, the Germans
continue to practise,
For the proudest of men flatters the people
Who is the happiest of men ? He who values
the merits of others,
And in their pleasure takes joy, even as
though twere his own.
Not in the morning alone, not only at mid-
day he charmeth;
Even at setting, the sun is still the same
!Tis easier far a wreath to bind,
Than a good owner fort to find
i What harm has thy poor mirror done, alas?
Look not so ugly, prithee, in the glass !
A breach is every day
By many a mortal stormd ;
Let them fall in the gaps as they may,
Yet a heap of dead is neer formd.
God gave to mortals birth,
In His own image too ;
Then came Himself to earth,
A mortal kind and true.
artist: fritz roeqer.
THE SAGES AND THE PEOPLE.
Who the song would understand,
Needs must seek the songs own land.
Who the minstrel understand,
Needs must seek the minstrels land.
BOOK OF THE MINSTREL.
NORTH and West and South are crumbling,
Kingdoms tremble, thrones are tum-
To the East fly from annoyance,
Seeking patriarchal joyance,
Where mid love and wine and singing,
Chisers Fount new life is bringing.
There in calm and holy places
Will I study primal races;
Searching back to dim beginnings
For the source of wisdoms winnings;
AVealth of language, lore of heaven,
Undisturbd by discords leaven.
Children then showd veneration,
Scornd was outside obligation !
Firmly grown in bone and marrow,
Faith was strong though thought was narrow ;
And the word kept power unbroken,
Just because the word was spoken.
I will mix with shepherd races
Find enjoyment in oases,
With long caravans will wander,
Wealth on shawls and spices squander.
Isverv path though rough or pretty
Will explore from waste to city.
Mountain footways rough and weary,
Ha (is, do thy songs make cheery;
When the guide on muleback clinging
Wakes the echoes with his singing ;
And the stars above are brightend,
And the lurking brigand frightend.
When I bathe or when Im drinking,
Hafis great, of thee Im thinking;
When her veil my sweetheart raises,
And my cheek her fair hair grazes,
Yea, the secret of the poet,
Een the houris long to know it.
If you envy him this pleasure,
Or would stint him in his measure,
Know his poems, gently knocking,
For admittance hover flocking,
Round the gate of Eden never,
Doubting of the life forever.
WHEN by the brook his strain
Cupid is fluting,
And on the neighbring plain
There turns the ear ere long,
Loving and tender,
Yet to the noise the song
Soon must surrender.
Loud then the flute-notes glad
Sound mid wars thunder;
If I grow raving mad,
Is it a wonder ?
Flutes sing and trumpets bray,
Waxing yet stronger;
If, then, my senses stray,
Wonder no longer.
GOD is of the East possessd,
God is ruler of the West;
North and South alike, each land
Rests within His gentle hand.
He, the only righteous one,
Wills that right to each be done.
Mongst His hundred titles, then,
Highest praise be this !Amen.
Error seeketh to deceive me,
Thou art able to retrieve me;
Loth in adtion and in song
Keep my course from going wrong.
THE FOUR FAVORS.
THAT Arabs through the realms of space
May wander on, light-hearted,
Great Allah hath, to all their race,
Four favors meet imparted.
The turban firstthat ornament
All regal crowns excelling;
A light and ever-shifting tent,
Wherein to make our dwelling;
A sword, which, more than rocks and walls
Doth shield us, brightly glistning;
A song that profits and enthrals,
For which the maids are listning.
SONG AND STRUCTURE.
LET the Greek his plastic clay
Mould in human fashion,
While his own creation may
Wake his glowing passion ;
But it is our joy to court
Great Euphrates torrent,
Here and there at will to sport
In the watery current.
Quenchd I thus my spirits flame,
Songs had soon resounded;
Water drawn by bards whose fame
Pure is, may be rounded.
CREATION AND VERIFICATION.
OLD Adam was a clod of earth
Which God a man created,
Yet he, in spite of such a birth,
Was unsophisticated !
The Elohim blew down his nose
The breath of life most pleasing;
He now to something great arose:
He caught a fit of sneezing.
Yet in his bones and limbs and head
He still remaind half earthy,
Till Noah the bumper found, tis said,
The right thing for the worthy.
The clod as soon as he was wet
Felt wings of inspiration,
Just as the dough when it is set
Swells up with fermentation.
Thus Hafis, may thy lofty song,
Thy glorious example
Lead us with clinking cups along
To our Creators temple.
Spirit let us bridegroom call,
And the word the bride;
Known this wedding is to all
Who have Hafis tried.
BOOK OF HAFIS.
THE NEW NAME.
MAHOMET-SHEMS-ED-DIN, tell me
Why thv noble people name thee
Sir, I cannot blame thee ;
I will speak how it befell me:
Since my memory never faltered,
And with joy I kept unaltered
All the Korans sacred verses,
And amid my many mercies
Never with the evil paltered
That the faithful were offended,
Who the seed-word of the prophet
Treasure as it was intended :
Therefore am I bearer of it.
Where his portion lies, and where with bold-
Joyous een in grief, he finds his duty.
Serpent venom and the theriaca
He must take without discrimination :
Poison kills not, antidote is helpless.
For true life consists in guileless action
Tempered by the everlasting wisdom,
Harming self but never harming others:
Thus the aged poet hopes the houris
To the joys of paradise will take him,
As a youth with vision clarified :
Holy Ebusuud, thou hast reachd it!
Pl.afis, as 1 thus behold us,
Is it well to stay anigh thee;
For the thoughts of others mould us
To resemble them; and I thee
Must resemble wholly,
Who have in my bosom minted
Impress of our Scripture holy,
As the Saviours face was printed
On the wondrous napkin. Jovance
Fills me, spite of all annoyance,
Spite of hindrance, loss, negation,
For I have Faiths consolation.
HHHAT thou canst never end doth make
1 thee great,
And that thou neer beginnest is thy fate.
Thy song is changeful as yon starry frame,
| End and beginning evermore the same;
j And what the middle bringeth but contains
What was at first, and what at last remains.
Thou art of joy the true and minstrel-source,
From thee pours wave on wave with ceaseless
A mouth thats aye prepard to kiss,
A breast whence flows a loving song,
A throat that finds no draught amiss,
An open heart that knows no wrong.
THE GERMAN RETURNS
HOLY EBUSUUD, thou hast fathomd
All the holy things the poet covets !
For it is indeed the thousand trifles
Not within the sacred Laws dominions
| And what though all the world should sink!
i Hafis, with thee, alone with thee
Will I contend joy, misery,
The portion of us twain shall be ;
Like thee to love, like thee to drink,
| This be my pride,this, life to me !
Now, Song, with thine own fire be sung,
For thou art older, thou more young !
HAFIS, straight to equal thee,
One would strive in vain ;
Though a ship with majesty
Cleaves the foaming main,
Feels its sails swell haughtily
As it onward hies;
Crushd by oceans stem decree,
Wreckd it straightway lies.
Towrd thee, songs, light, graceful, free,
Mount with cooling gush ;
Then their glow consumeth me,
As like fire they rush.
Yet a thought with ecstasy
Hath my courage movd ;
In the land of melody
I have livd and lovd.
May flames consume the man whoeer
And speaketh as this Misri! He alone
Thus spoke the judge severe shall not
In fire: the poet gifts from God receiveth,
And if in traffic of his sins he use them,
Let him beware lest he shall sadly lose
BOOK OF LOVE.
EAR, and in memory bear
These six fond loving pair.
Love, when arousd, kept true
Rustan and Rodawu !
Strangers approach from far
Jussuf and Suleika;
Love, void of hope, is in
Ferhad and Schirin.
Born for each other are
Medschnun and Leila;
Loving, though old and gray,
Dschemil saw Boteinah.
Loves sweet caprice anon,
Brown maid and Solomon!
If thou dost mark them well,
Stronger thy love will swell.
ONE PAIR MORE.
LOVE is indeed a glorious prize !
What fairer guerdon meets our eyes ?
Though neither wealth nor power are thine,
A very hero thou dost shine.
As of the prophet, they will tell
Wamik and Asras tale as well.
Theyll tell not of them,theyll but give
Their names, which now are all that live.
The deeds they did, the toils they provd
No mortal knows! But that they lovd
This know we. Heres the story true
Of Wamik and of Asra too.
Loves torments sought a place of rest,
Where all might drear and lonely be;
They found ere long my desert breast,
And nestled in its vacancy.
IN my sweethearts eyes the people
Find perpetual cause for wonder.
I who know the meaning of it
Can explain it without blunder.
For it means: This is my lover,
Not to this and that one turning:
Therefore, worthy people, hearken,
Cease your wonder, cease your yearning.
Yea, with secret force prodigious
Round the circle she is glancing,
Yet she only seeks to tell him
Of the coming hour entrancing.
Â£ ^\A/E assiduous gossip-mongers
VV Fain would know thy sweethearts
And if thou deceivest also
Many husbands too eon Tiding.
For we see thou art a lover,
And thy fortune we would covet;
But that thou couldst find a mistress,
Not a word believe we of it!
Seek her, if ye please, my masters,
None will hinder ; yet this learn ye :
Ye will tremble at her presence;
Gone, her loss will much concern ye.
If ye know how Shehab-ed-din
Droppd on Arafat his raiment,
Ye would never call him foolish
Who for wisdom was a claimant!
If thy name before thou diest
Should be spoken to thy monarch,
Should be spoken to thy mistress,
Count it mid thy honors highest !
Thus it showd the bitterest sorrow,
When the dying Medschnun willd it
That his name henceforth for Leila
Should be dead, and men fulfilld it.