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n^ 
 
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 TE 
 
 DA 
 
THE BOOK-KEEPEE. 
 
 -AND 
 
 A TRANSLATION 
 
 PROM 
 
 THE GERMAN OE ^SCEILLEE;^ 
 
 BY MERCATOR, 
 
 mmbn of l&t Bntnt^l Wintoxu »ocut^ of montunU 
 
 MONTREAL • 
 
 DAWSON BROTflERS, GREAT ST. JAIUES STREET 
 
 1868. 
 
 JU-! 
 
■^-^^T^iP* 
 
•«»> 
 
 TO 
 
 GEORGE PEABODY, ESQ., 
 
 THE FOLLOWING POEM3 
 
 THE SOOK KEEPER, 
 
 IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED IN MEMORY OF HIS NOBLE DONATION 
 
 To THE Poor of the City of London. 
 Montreal^ December^ 1867. 
 
r 
 
: 
 
 ^|e ^aofi-kfpfr^ 
 
 'rrilS pleasant to v^iew the stately hall. 
 
 As it towering stands in the grey of dawn ; 
 Or the long shadows thrown by its massive wall 
 
 From the slanting rays on the summer morn 
 
 Or again, when thunder growls in ire. 
 
 And lightning darts the tongue of fire. 
 To see it defy, with aspect proud, 
 
 The threat of the lowering tempest cloud ; 
 
T'he Bookkeeper. 
 
 l 
 
 Or yet again, when the winter's snow 
 
 Lies deep on the ground, and the leafless trees 
 
 Moan and lament, in murmurings low, 
 
 Their foliage lost, as the bare limbs freeze: — 
 
 Then the mansion looks down with haughty mien, 
 What cares it about the world without. 
 
 And it laughs at the blast, 
 
 « 
 
 As the wind shrieks past. 
 For the fire burns cheerly and warm within. 
 
 l^ow gene is the bold, defiant frown, 
 And haughty scorn appears no morfe, 
 
 But friendly and cheerful the mansion looks down, 
 As a carriage drives up to the wide hall-door. 
 
■■ 
 
 The Bookkeeper. 
 
 The rich man. enters his princely home. 
 With happy smiles the graceful dame, 
 
 And gleeful rejoicings the children come, 
 . And for him is the fond endearing name. 
 
 And his the loving sweet caress ; 
 Of all he owns, what treasures rare. 
 What hoarded wealth with this compare ? 
 
 For the rich man is poor who does not possess 
 The prize of domestic happiness. 
 
 How fares it ivith the man by fortune tried? 
 
 What does the touchstone of success lay hare f 
 Shrinks the false heart? naught but vain tiriselled pride ? 
 
 Or is it sterling worth that glitters there ? 
 
8 
 
 The Bookkeeper, 
 
 (briefs, like ballast in a ship, the mind 
 
 Oft steady, but too many joys 
 Careen the intellect, as sudden gusts of ivlnd 
 O'erset the vessel and leave wreck behind 
 
 Unless that wisdom's keel preserves the equipoise. 
 
 Through the deepening shades of the summer night 
 
 Comes a joyous and merry sound ; 
 The mansion within seems filled with light, 
 
 And the windows ablaze send sparkling rays 
 To spread the lively mirth around. 
 
 And elegant wealth makes holiday, 
 For fortune's smiles are there. 
 
 The 
 
 spacious rooms are bright and gay 
 
 1 
 
L 
 
 The Bookkeeper, 
 
 With beauteous forms of maidens fair. 
 Works of art and sculpture vie 
 With dresses rich and jewellery. 
 The cultured taste to gratify. 
 Whatever wealth can bring to please. 
 Or to make perfect luxurious ease, 
 Those tasteful rooms display. 
 
 The hummwgMrd' 8 feathers are hrilUant, the h"- 
 Of the deep tinted ruby and amethyst blue, 
 From its dark plumage fitfully gleams, 
 As hovering poised, it doth daintily feed, 
 Or suddenly darting with arrow swift speed, 
 It sporteth all day mid' the joyous sunbeams. 
 
Tf- 
 
 wr^m^rmmmm 
 
 lO 
 
 The Bookkeeper. 
 
 In torrents of sweetness the exquisite note 
 
 Streams forth from the mocking-hird^ s quivering throat 
 
 As the praises of nature it sings ; 
 
 And gorgeous tvith colour the butter/lies^ ivings 
 As the nectar fed insects in luxurg float. 
 
 The heaver eonstructeth iis dwelling with sJcill ; 
 
 The ants plan their city and fashion the hilly 
 Instructed by instinct, in harmony toil. 
 Their num>bers uniting — with fruits of the soil 
 
 And provision their granaries fill. 
 
 The bee is not slothful and toils not alone. 
 For himself and his fellows he storeth the hive. 
 And on the rich honey they j)leasanily live, 
 
 When the warm days of summer are gone, 
 
 
The Bookkeeper^ 
 
 And the cold blast sweeps by 
 Then unsheltered must die, 
 The selfish, improvident drone. 
 
 II 
 
 Again the proud mansion 13 filled with light, 
 
 And welcoming rays from the windows fall , 
 The tables are spread, and a festive sight 
 
 Is displayed in the noble banqueting hall, 
 And worthily fortune's favoured son 
 
 Presides, and sees with grateful priae. 
 As his guests partake of each costly dish, 
 That every want and fastidious wish 
 
 In the banquet's profusion is satisfied. 
 
t 
 
 12 
 
 'The Bookkeeper, 
 
 The rich wine quickens the generous throes 
 Of the heart, and gaily the converse flows. 
 
 Toast and sentiment, jest and song. 
 
 Mirthful revelry still prolong ; 
 Pleasantly smiling the swift hours glide 
 
 As the feast goes merrily on. 
 
 'Tis well when wealth by fortune sent 
 
 With liberal hand is wisely spent. 
 
 To gratify but one man*s greed 
 
 Is foul abuse of fortune's kind intent. 
 
 For poorer neighbours thoughtfully to care 
 And her rich blessings readily to share 
 
 With those who, favoured less, have greater need. 
 
 I 
 
^he Bookkeeper. 
 
 Few things in life so sweet as that reward. 
 When willing hand and thoughtful brain. 
 From the warm heart the inspiration gain, 
 
 And friends and fellowmen the worthy deeds 
 applaud. 
 
 13 
 
 ^Tis tvell when the generous thoughts of the mind, 
 In generous deeds expression find ; 
 
 The heart to prompt — the brain to plan — 
 The power and means to serve manldnd, 
 
 Not for ourselves alone are given, 
 
 ♦ ■ 
 
 But gifts are they bestowed hy heaven 
 In trust for our fellow man. 
 
 The book-keeper sits at his desk on high, 
 In the realms of light above the sky, 
 
14 
 
 The Bookkeeper, 
 
 u 
 
 And fairly inscribes, from birth to death, 
 The deeds men do in the world beneath. 
 Piled around account-books vast 
 Contain the records of the past, 
 Since Adam felt transgression-s pain, 
 And Avrathful Cain shed Abel's blood, 
 Of all who've lived — the bad and good — 
 Of those who've strived the prize to gain 
 Or proof against temptation stood, 
 And those who've lived — but lived in vain.- 
 
 'Tis grievous to view the wretched abode, 
 
 As it stands out forlorn in the landscape bright. 
 
 When the morning awakens the country road, 
 And the birds are triUing their notes of delight. 
 
"The Bookkeeper. 
 
 15 
 
 And the trees refreshed with the past night's rest, 
 
 Softly rustle their leaves in the cool early breeze ; 
 And the green grass below, and the blue sky above. 
 Are telling of harmony, friendship, and love ; 
 
 And all things raise the hymn of praise ; - . 
 
 But the hovel shrinks back from the sun's bright 
 
 ray. 
 Alone it stands there, in that landscape so fair, 
 A picture of misery, age and decay. ' 
 
 Forth from his wretched lair — he comes, 
 A being clothed with human form. 
 As a dark cloud clothing tempestuous storm ; 
 
 Into the music breathing balmy air 
 
J 6 The Bookkeeper. 
 
 He comes, nor heeds the sweet melodious charm. 
 Repels her love, scorns her caresses warm, 
 And nature^s proffered joys disdains to share. 
 
 Sullen his aspect — stern the knitted brow — • 
 
 The pale and haggard features show ■n\mAmim'% - 
 
 A> \ ■ 
 
 Nature's avenging signs. 
 Enduring marks by passion worn 
 
 Deep in the flesh — unsightly lines 
 Of joy repelling scorn. 
 
 Oft has he tempted fortune, but with ill success, 
 Therefore his soul is filled with bitterness ; 
 And thoughts, by faith and patience unrepressed. 
 Of murderous hatred harbour in his breast. 
 
"The Bookkeeper, 
 
 Therefore the soothing charm melodious '/reets 
 Vainly his ear, and on his gloomy sight, 
 
 As everywhere his eye rejoicing nature meets,, 
 Hatefully falls the sun's unwelcome light. 
 
 Unsympathising, and alone,. 
 
 He goes his way — 
 Invisible but near. 
 
 With eyes (although not seen) 
 That search and sear 
 
 With lurid evil glare. 
 
 Like vulture o'er expiring prey^ 
 Grimly watches hideous fierce despair 
 
 To claim him for her own.. 
 
 B 
 
 ^7 
 
i8 
 
 The Bookkeeper. 
 
 Patience is like a citadel of strength, 
 Beset hi/ foes, that hardship undergoes, 
 And much privation loyally endures. 
 
 Which being home and overcome, at length 
 The victory secures — 
 
 But Passion in the open plain 
 Against a multitude contends, 
 The unequal battle in defeat soon ends. 
 
 And leaves the victim to deplore in vain 
 
 That reason's curb did not 
 The wild career restrain. 
 
 The Angel still ever with busy quill, 
 Does page on page with entries fill; 
 
 
 msms 
 
 wmmm 
 
i 
 
 T/ie Bookkeeper, 
 
 ■ 
 
 Deeds done in faith^s ne'er failing might, 
 To serve the God of love and light. 
 Are entered there upon the right ; 
 
 But hateful acti, bereft 
 Of sympathy and kindly thought, 
 Of pride and self-indulgence taught, 
 Are entered on the left. 
 
 Tlie huinbley earnest, faithful prayer, 
 Wliichfrom the soul in loorship Jlows^ 
 Direct to the throne of me^cy goes, 
 And is not entered there. 
 
 Each one that breathes of human race 
 
 Has, in that ledger's ample space, 
 
 His or her allotted place. 
 
 . 19 
 
20 
 
 ^/f<? Bookkeeper, 
 
 tt 
 
 And the work goes steadily on alway, 
 By day and night — in the realms of light 
 Ni)2;ht is as day— there is no night. 
 
 
 I 
 
 ') 
 
 Broken the link ! — No more the sounds 
 
 Of joy are heard through the spacious halls ; 
 No longer the mansion gaily resounds 
 
 With the voice of mirth— but the massive walls, 
 In silent pride and cheerless gloom,. 
 Stand like a barrier striving to hide 
 The grief within from the world outside. 
 The choking sob and outcry wiki, 
 Are borne on the air from the darkened room, 
 
 1^ 
 
T^he Bookkeeper. 
 
 21 
 
 Where the prostrate form lies stiff and cold. 
 The sweet caresses of wife and child, 
 The treasured wealth and shining gold, 
 
 No flush can bring to that colourless face^ 
 Nor yet to that motionless form can give. 
 Nor pride, nor pleasure, nor power to live. 
 
 No more rich prizes from fortune to win. 
 
 For the beating pulse Lj measured pace 
 Has stayed, and the life-blood ceased to flow. 
 
 The deeds of worth and works of sin. 
 Alike are ended for weal or woe : 
 
 And the hoarse wind murmurs the tidings dread 
 Its low cries say, as it speeds on its way. 
 
 That the master within lies dead ! 
 
22 
 
 '^he Bookkeeper. 
 
 . 
 
 I 
 
 From the mansion's wide hall-door, 
 Along the well-known road, 
 
 A stately carriage conveys once more 
 Fortune's favoured son. 
 
 As the horses draw the lifeless load 
 
 To the entrance gate of death's abode. 
 The death-bell calls, with solemn tone, 
 Come to the grave ! your day is gone ! 
 Come, come, to death's dark home ! 
 Come, sleeper, come ! 
 
 Above, in tlie realms of light, 
 
 The angel writes in the glittering page ; 
 
 In the space allotted from youth to age 
 
 WWiW ' fi l HlilllfctiUMMga 
 
"T 
 
 ^he Bookkeeper, 
 
 2J 
 
 The figures left and right 
 
 Are added — and under — stands the amoi^nt 
 
 Lost and gained in a life a account. 
 
 And the angel beholds from the throne of grace, 
 
 Of mercy and love, on high 
 
 A sign as it flashes suddenly, 
 
 Like the gleam of a meteor's vivid flame 
 
 When it shoots o'er the cloudless sky, 
 
 And brighter with joy is that heavenly face, 
 
 As he writes on the page tlie glorious name 
 
 Of Him who died on Calvary. 
 
 But again — and there comes no answering sign 
 
 To that eager look, from the throne divine ; 
 
 a 
 
24 
 
 The Bookkeeper, 
 
 No flashing meteor gleams ; 
 
 But a shadow falls athwart the page, 
 
 That lustrous eye no longer beams 
 
 With joy, and the heavenly face 
 
 Is clouded with sadness, as under the space 
 
 Allotted for trial from youth to age. 
 
 The angel draws a deep black line. 
 
 Now the page is sealed with the signet cross ; 
 How stands the account ? 
 Is it Profit ? — or Loss f 
 
The Bookkeeper. '25 
 
 'Tis a pleasure great on an autumn's eve 
 
 To stand on some eminence high,' 
 And watch the Sun of the Earth take leave 
 
 In a clear Canadian sky. 
 
 As near the horizon the Father of day 
 
 Majestically sinks in the west, 
 
 A glorious proof of the power of light 
 
 -• 
 
 He gives to the Earth in the marvellous plaj 
 "Of colour and beauty, in varied array , 
 
 Displayed to the wondering sight 
 Of her creatures, e*re yet, for a season of rest. 
 
 He leaves them the dark silent night— 
 
26 
 
 "The Bookkeeper. 
 
 Beauty and harmony^ in 'perfect form expressed, 
 Whether through ear or eye, to healthy mind addressed, 
 Senses and mind with heavenly bliss surround. 
 
 Fire with exultant joy, the ardent throbbing breast. 
 Or fill the soul with peace and happiness profound. 
 
 See ! — How behind yon crimson cloud 
 
 Whence the declining sun, now hidden, throws 
 In radiant waves the colour giving light. 
 
 Intense the rays with dazzling brightness blaze, 
 Superb the sky with brilliant colour glows ; 
 
 The strains of heavenly joy and triumph proud 
 Thrill through the soul, as on the ravished sight 
 
 The hues resplendent crowd — 
 
 Ci 
 
T^<? Bookkeeper. * 27 
 
 'Tis like a glorious anthem writ 
 
 In colour on the firmament 
 The theme — Creation — lauding and praising still 
 The majesty, the love and wondrous skill 
 
 Of Him who made the world so beautiful. 
 
 O'er earth and sky the solemn night extend3 
 
 Her sombre, deepening shade, 
 And grateful calm repose to weary nature sends ; 
 
 Colours, shapes and outlines clear. 
 Which painted by the light the varied landscape made, 
 Grow dim ; then one by one the objects fade. 
 
 And in the gathering darkness disappear. 
 
28 
 
 ^he Bookkeeper. 
 
 \ I 
 
 . 
 
 'I 
 
 Symbol of death ! that curtain drawn between 
 Lives spent, worn out and gone, — 
 
 Things that once were, but now have beeny 
 
 God-like forms of flesh and bone. 
 
 Where life and reason's light once shone. 
 
 Now seen by memory's sight alone — 
 
 « 
 
 Sad records of the past ; 
 And through the dense obscurity 
 
 By faith yet dimly seen — 
 Borne on by time's ne'er ceasing flight. 
 With hope and expectation bright. 
 
 Ever more near, approaching fast — 
 Life's Futurity. 
 
 SS&B^ta 
 
The Bookkeeper. 
 
 ^9 
 
 And now the dark shadows envelope yon mound 
 Where prostrate walls and scattered stones 
 
 Still tell of the past, and, like mouldering bones, 
 Disfigure and cumber the ground 
 
 Where a mansion, once towering toward the skies, 
 A mass of unsightly ruin lies. 
 
 -\ 
 
 II 
 
I 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 TO 
 
 SOHILLEE'S ' SONG OF THE BELL." 
 
 TN venturing to publish the following translation ot 
 -^ a part of Schiller's " Song (or Lay) of the Bell," 
 a few brief remarks on the peculiar characteristics of 
 the poem may not be unacceptable to those who are 
 debarred the pleasure of reading it in the original 
 German. 
 
 The church bell, from its association with the most 
 important events which happen to each individual in 
 the ordinary course of life, as well as from its connec- 
 tion with religious duties and impressions, is in most 
 civilized countries regarded with a feeling of some 
 
 t 
 
 f 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 E 
 
I 
 
 32 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 ' 
 
 degree of veneration ; and it is not surprising that 
 this should be more especially the case with an imagi- 
 native and thoughtful people, such as the Germans. 
 
 The church-bell is (or was in Germany) frequently 
 'used to communicate the glad tidings of the birth of 
 a child; its merry peals take part in the rejoicings of 
 the wedding ; and again its mournful toll appears to 
 lament the final departure of the mortal whose parti- 
 f:ipation in the affairs of this life has come to an end. 
 It, moreover, sounds the alarm at the outbreak of 
 fire, and also periodically reminds people of th^ 
 appointed time to unite in public worship. 
 
 The subject of the poem, however, is one of those 
 bells of great size, the possession of which conferred 
 even some degree of note on the town or place to 
 which it belonged, and the reader may be reminded 
 that in the age referred to in the poem, the casting of 
 one of those large bells was, from the quantity and 
 
 I 
 
 immiiw 
 
 pmi>m!^*^iv*-'^^-^''" 
 
ism 
 
 Introduction, 
 
 33 
 
 
 costliness of the material, as well as from the uncer- 
 tainty as to success in the operation, a very anxious 
 and serious undertaking. 
 
 Schiller has then selected the casting of one of 
 these bells as the subject of a poem, and assuming the 
 master-founder to be a very thoughtful and religious 
 character, has put into his mouth the reflections which 
 might be supposed likely to occur to such a man 
 engaged in an undertaking intended to have so close 
 a connection with the lives and affairs of many people, 
 not only his contemporaries, but also from its dura- 
 bility with those of future generations. 
 
 The subject is explained, or rather announced, in a 
 few opening lines, after which the master- founder 
 proceeds to give the necessary directions to the work- 
 men, the time between each stage of the process being 
 occupied with the reflections and thoughts before 
 alluded to. 
 
Tprn-pirw 
 
 «H 
 
 34 Introduction. 
 
 The choice and arrangement of the words are 
 varied with extraordinary skill, so as to harmonize 
 with the varying phases of the subject ; in one place, 
 directions are given to the workmen in plain and 
 familiar language ; in another, the bustling activity of 
 a person engaged in the restless business of life is 
 suggested ; the ideas of joy, grief, and terror, are 
 indicated somewhat in the same way as in a finfe 
 descriptive piece of music, amplifying and intensifying 
 the actual meaning conveyed by the words alone. 
 Short, energetic sentences, sudden breaks, and a sort 
 of clashing effect in the rhythm, together with a 
 crowding of imagery, in the description of a fire at 
 night, brings vividly before the mind the confusion 
 and incidents usually attending such a disaster; or & 
 again, when the bell is described as tolling, the solemn 
 effect is conveyed, and even the sound ahnost imitated, 
 in the few sonorous lines of the German. Some sur- 
 
U''. 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 3S 
 
 prise may be felt that this poem has not been chosen 
 as a subject by any of the great German musical com- 
 posers. Recitative, solo and chorus, may be said to 
 spontaneously suggest themselves in reading the poem. 
 
•%-^iiiaii|P 
 
 .thsi 3(11 k p.i.m 
 
 Jas fieb bon kt §k(h 
 
 Vivos voco 
 Mortuos planga 
 
 Fulgura frango. 
 
 ill 
 
 i 
 
 Fest gemauert in der Erden 
 Steht die Form aus Lehm gebrannt ; 
 Heute muss die Glocke werden, 
 Frisch, Gesellen ! seid zur Hand 
 
 Von der Stirne hetfs 
 
 Rinnvin muss der Schweis, 
 3oll das Werk den Meister loben ; 
 Doch der Segen kommt von oben — 
 
 i} 
 
!! 
 
 i' 
 
 TRANSLATION OF (PART OF) 
 
 ^tjiliet's 3(ing of % Jtll. 
 
 I dwell aloft above the ground ; 
 1 call the living. 
 
 And the dead bewail ; 
 Loud the alarm I sound 
 When flames burst forth. 
 
 Or thi^eatening foe? assail. 
 
 In the ground fast built and steady 
 
 Stands the mould of well-burnt clay, 
 Now, my lads, be each one ready, 
 We fail, or cast the bell to-day. 
 From the glowing brow 
 Streaming sweat must flow, 
 Let all be done to win success. 
 And, from above, may grace our labour bless- 
 
I 
 
 38 
 
 Das Lied von der Glocke. 
 
 Zum Werke, das wir ernst bereiten 
 Geziemt sich wohl ein ernstes Wort ; 
 Wenn gute Reden sie begleiten, 
 Dann fliesst die Arbeit munter fort. 
 So lasst uns getzt mit Fleiss betrachten. 
 Was durch die swache Kraft entspringt ; 
 Den schlechten Mann muss mann verachten, 
 Der nie bedacht, was er voUbringt. 
 Das ist*s ja, v/as den Menschen zieret 
 Und dazu ward ihm der verstand, 
 Dass er im innern Herzen spiiret 
 
 Was er erschaift mit seiner Hand 
 
 .1 
 
Schiller's Song of the Bell. 39 
 
 I 
 
 Works which a serious purpose claim. 
 Serious thoughts may rightly ask ; 
 When thoughtful words direct the aim, 
 Goes cheerfully on the pleasing task. 
 So let u& with attention scan 
 
 * 
 
 That which our feeble strength brings forth ; 
 Men should despise the thoughtless man 
 
 Who lowly prizes reason*s worth ; 
 To man alone the gift of thought 
 
 Belongs, the power to understand 
 1 The purpose of the labour by him wrought. 
 
 The thing created with his own right-hand. 
 
 A 
 
Il 
 
 I 
 
 40 Bas Leid von der Glocke. 
 
 Nehmet Hoh von Fichtenstamme^ 
 Dock recht trocken lasst es seWy 
 Dass die eingepresste Flamme 
 Schlage zu dem Schwalch hinein ! 
 Kocht des Kupfers Breiy 
 Schnell das Zinn herbeiy 
 Dass die zdhe Gkckenspeise 
 Fliesse nach der fechten JVeisse, 
 
 , 
 
 Was in des Dammes tiefer Grube 
 Die Hand mit Feures Hiilfe baut 
 Hoch auf des Thurmes Glockenstube 
 
 ,? % 
 
 i '* 
 
Schiller's Song of the Bell. 
 
 41 
 
 \ 
 
 Feed the furnace now with pine-wood^ 
 But be sure *tis very dry, 
 'That the draught, within the hood 
 Force the fierce flames searchingly, 
 ^he coppery ores hegin 
 To fuse, quick add the tin ! 
 That the viscid bell-paste so 
 Right prepared may smoothly flow. 
 
 ;-! 
 
 What in the dark pit hidden now, 
 Our hands prepare with aid of fire. 
 
 Shall to the listening world below 
 Our praise declare from lofty spire ; 
 
 ^A 
 
42 
 
 Das Leid von der Glocke. 
 
 Noch dauern wird's in spaten Tagen 
 Und riihren vieler Menschen Ohr 
 Und wird mit dem Betrubten Klagen 
 Und stimmen zu der Andacht Chor 
 Was unten tief dem Frdensohne 
 Das wechselnde Verhangniss bringt 
 Das schlagt an die metallne Krone 
 Die es erbaulich weiter klinfyt. 
 
 
 Weisse Blasen seh! ich springen 
 Wohl I die Mas sen sind im Fluss. 
 Lassfs mit Aschensalz durchdringen 
 Das befordert schnell den Guss, 
 
Schiller's Song of the Bell, 43 
 
 
 And through ages long vibrating, 
 
 Sound the sympathetic stroke ; 
 Still the bereaved one's woe relating, 
 
 Or sinners to their prayers invoke. 
 Griefs and joys mankind surrounding. 
 
 Which ever changing fortunes bring. 
 Still on the sonorous metal sounding 
 
 Far and wide instructive ring. 
 
 Frothy bladders rising fast 
 On the seething mass appear ; 
 Now let uSy to prepare the cast^ 
 With potash salt the fluid clear. 
 
44 T^as Leid von der Glocke. 
 
 Auch von Schaume rein 
 Muss die Mischunz sein 
 Dass vom reinlichen Metalle 
 Rein und voll die Stimme schalle. 
 
 
 
 Denn mit der Freude Felerklange 
 Begriisst sie das geliebte Kind 
 Auf seines Lebens erstem Gange, 
 Den es in Schlafes Arm beginnt ; 
 Ihm ruhen noch im Zeitenschcose * 
 
 Die schwarzen und die heitern Loose ; 
 Der mutterliebe zarte Sorgen 
 Bewachen seinen goldnen Morgen— 
 
 . 
 
Schiller' s Song of the BelL 45 
 
 From all scum quite free 
 i Must the mixture be ; 
 
 For from metal pure alone 
 Mellow and clear will ring the tone. 
 
 With peals of mirth and sounds of joy 
 Greet ye the birth of the darling boy. 
 Whose earliest hours on life's high way 
 In sleep's soft arms glide smooth away ; 
 For him yet in time's bosom lies 
 Hardship's lot or fortune's prize. 
 Maternal love with anxious fears, 
 The child through dawn cf boyhood rears- 
 
46 
 
 Das Leid von der Glocke, 
 
 Die Jahre fliehen pfeilgeschwind. 
 Vom Madschen reisst sich stolz der Knabe, 
 Er stiirmt ins Leben wild hinaus, 
 Durchmisst die Welt am Wanderstabe, 
 Fremd kehrt er heim ins Vaterhous ; 
 Und herrlich, in der Jugend prangen, 
 Wie ein Gebild aus Himmelshohn, 
 Mit ziichtigen, verschamten Wangen 
 Sieht er die Jungfrau vor sich stehn ; 
 Da fasst ein namenloses Sehnen 
 Des Junglings Herz, er irrt allein, 
 Aus seinen Augen brechen Thranen, 
 Er flieht der Bruder wilden Reihn, 
 Errothend folgt ej ihren Spuren 
 
 I 
 
Schiller's Song of the Bell. 
 
 47 
 
 I 
 
 With arrow speed the years flee past, 
 
 The nurse's care the youth, disdainful, spurns ; 
 
 He plunges eager into life's wild foam. 
 
 And mingling in the world, at length returns 
 
 To the paternal roof, a stranger, home ; 
 
 And lovely, blooming in her youthful days. 
 
 Like some fair form of heavenly joy. 
 
 There stands, before his ardent gaze. 
 
 The blushing maiden coy — 
 
 Sudden a subtle longing thrills 
 
 The lad's young heart, he wanders then 
 
 Pensive alone, his thoughts her image fills ; 
 
 Shunning the rude society of men. 
 
 He follows v^hei e her footsteps lead. 
 
 ! 
 
K^KKH 
 
 mmmi 
 
 48 
 
 ' Das Leid von der Glocke, 
 
 Und ist von ihrem Gruss begliickt, 
 Das Schonste sucht er auf den Fluren, 
 Womit er seine Liebe schmiickt. 
 O ! zarte Sehnsucht, susses Hoffen, 
 Der ersten Liebe goldne Zeit ! 
 Das Auge sieht den Hin^mel oflen, 
 Es schwelgt das Herz in Seligkeit ; 
 O ! das sie ewig griinen bliebe 
 Die schone Zeit der jungen Liebe ! 
 
 I 
 
 Wie sirk schon die Pfeifen brdunen ! 
 Dieses Stdbchen tauch* ich ein^ 
 Sehn wir's iiberglast erscheineny 
 fFird*s zum Gusse zeitig sein^ 
 
 
 mmmmm 
 

 Schiller's Song of the Bell. 
 
 To win her smiles fatigue is gaily borne ; 
 
 The sweetest flowers that blossom on the mead 
 
 He seeks wherewith the loved one to adorn, 
 
 O ! tender passion, golden time, 
 
 Of ardent love with hope so bright. 
 
 Then opens to the eye the heaven sublime. 
 
 Revels the soul in exquisite delight ; 
 
 O ! that ever fresh t would stay 
 
 The early bloom of love's young May. 
 
 See^ the gassy fumes grow brown^ 
 Now this rod I plunge within ; 
 Should the surface glazed become y 
 Then the casting may begin. 
 
 49 
 
5° 
 
 Das Leid von der Glocke. 
 
 i 
 
 JetztyGesellenyfrisch! 
 
 Pr'ust mir das Gemischy 
 Ob das Sprode mit dem Weichen 
 Sich vereint zum gut en Zsichen, 
 
 Denn wo das Strenge mit dem Zarteii, 
 Wo Starkes sich und Milaes paarten, 
 Da gibt es einen guten Klang. 
 Drum priise, wer sich ewig bindet, 
 Ob sich das Her-z zum Herzen findet ! 
 Der Wahn ist kurz, die Reu' ist lang. 
 Lieblich in der Braute Locken 
 Spielt der jungfrauliche Kranz, 
 Wenn die hellen Kirchenglocken 
 
 '^ 
 
 «» 
 
 i 
 
 1^^^ 
 
 ■I 
 
i 
 
 '^ 
 
 Schiller's Song of the Bell, r i 
 
 Now^ my ladsy we'll by 
 
 'This proof the mixture try. 
 If the brittle parts unite 
 With the toughy then all goes figHt, 
 
 Where force with tendernesss we find. 
 Where gentleness v th strength combined. 
 There rings the true and faultless tone. 
 Prove wellj' ere bound with wedlock's chain. 
 If heart to heart respond again. 
 Illusive passion soon is gone, 
 I The links, once joined, remain. 
 
 Lovely in the maiden's tresses. 
 Plays the spotless bridal flower 
 
 rtfi 
 
II 
 
 52 
 
 Das Leid von der Glocke. 
 
 ^; \ 
 
 Laden zu des Festes Glanz, 
 Ach ! des Lebens schonste Feier 
 Endigt auch den Lebens — Mai 
 Mit dem Giirtel mit dem Schleier 
 Reisst der schone Wahn entzwei. 
 
 Die Leidenschaft ilieht, 
 
 Die Liebe muss bleiben ; 
 
 Pie Blume verbliiht, 
 
 Pie Frucht muss treiben. 
 
 Der Mann muss hinous 
 
 ins feindliche Leben, 
 
 Muss wirken und streben, 
 
 MiriiHiftA 
 
 ,i 
 
II 
 
 Schiller's Song of the BelL 
 
 S3 
 
 f' 
 
 When the merry church bell blesses 
 
 And proclaims the joyful hour. 
 
 Ah ! life's choicest holiday 
 
 Ending with life's early spring, 
 
 The nuptial hours soon pass away 
 
 The sweet illusion vanishing. 
 
 f 
 The passion goes by. 
 
 The love must remain ; 
 
 The flower must die. 
 
 The fruit to obtain. 
 
 The man must without. 
 
 To work and toil, 
 'Midlife's turmoil, 
 
 , i. 
 
 * ■ )*i,-i'l'j'. 
 
 i\ 
 
54 
 
 Das Leid von der Glocke. 
 
 Und pflanzen und schaflen, 
 
 Eriisten, erraflen, 
 
 Muss wetten und wagen ' 
 
 Das Gliick zu erjagen. 
 
 Da stromet herbei die uneiidliche Gabe, 
 
 Es fuUt sich der Speicher mit kostlicher Habe ; 
 
 Die Raume wachsen, es dehnt sich das Haus. 
 
 Und drinhen waltet ' 
 
 Die zuchtige Hausfrau, 
 
 Die mutter der Kinder, 
 
 Und herrschet weise 
 
 Im hauslichen Kreise 
 
 W 
 
 , 
 
 mtm 
 
 mm 
 
Schiller's Song of the Bell, 
 
 SS 
 
 
 In planning and doing 
 
 Perfecting, pursuing, 
 
 Must earnestly strive 
 
 His utmost to thrive; 
 
 Thus winning prosperity, measure by measure. 
 
 His coffers keep steadily filling with treasure. 
 
 The rooms increase, the house spreads out^ 
 
 And the woman within. 
 
 Must her duties uegin 
 
 In managing there. 
 
 With motherly care 
 
 And orderly rule, . 
 
 The nursery school. 
 
 . 
 
S6 
 
 Das Leid von der Glocke. 
 
 Und lehret die Madchen 
 
 Und wehret den Knaben, 
 
 Und reget ohn' Ende 
 
 Die fleissigen Hande 
 
 Und mehrt den Gewinn 
 
 ,Mit ordnendem Sinn, 
 
 Und fiillet mit Schatzen die duftenden Laden, 
 
 Und dreht um die schnurrende Spindel den Faden, 
 
 Und sammelt im reinlich geglatteten Schrein, 
 
 Die schimmernde Wolle, den schneeichten Lein, 
 
 Und fiiget zum Guten den Glanz und den Schimmer, 
 Und ruhet nimmer. 
 
 
 .-^ 
 
 i 
 
, 
 
 Schiller* s Song of the BelL 57 
 
 In watching and teaching 
 The boys and the girls, ' 
 Employed without ceasing, 
 Her hands ever busy 
 She lessens expense 
 
 By her motherly sense. 
 And she fills with her treasures 
 
 The sweet scented cases. 
 And winds ofF the thread 
 
 As the spinning-wheel races, 
 And neatly arranges the shining shelves full, 
 The snowy white linen and glittering wool, 
 And in tasteful display a good purpose seeks ever, 
 And wearies never. 
 
58 
 
 Bas^ Lsid von der GJocke. 
 
 Und der Vater, mit frohem Blick, 
 
 Von des Hauses weitschauendem Giebel, 
 
 Ueberzahlet sein bluhend Gluck : 
 
 Siehet der Pfosten ragende Baume, 
 
 Und der Scheunen gefullte Raume, 
 
 ♦ 
 
 Und die Speicher, vom Segen gebogen, 
 Und des Kornes bewegte Wogen ; 
 Ruhmt sich mit stolzem Mund : 
 Fest, wie der Erde Grund, 
 Gegen des Ungl ticks Macht 
 Steht mir des Hauses' Pracht ! 
 Doch mit des Geschickes' Machten 
 1st kein ew'ger Bund zu flechten. 
 Und das Ungluck schreitet schnell. 
 
 ( 
 
 . 
 
< 
 
 1 
 
 Schiller's Song of the Bell. ' 50 
 
 And the father, with joyful eye, 
 
 Surveying the prospect before him wide spread. 
 Takes note of his prosperity. 
 
 » He sees the timber-yielding trees. 
 
 And his well-filled granaries ; 
 The barns with harvest fruits weighed down. 
 And waving, like billows, the growing corn ; 
 Exulting thinks, with swelling pride. 
 
 Firm as the solid wall. 
 Even a^u,.*ist misfortune's tide. 
 
 Securely stands the stately hall. 
 But 'gainst the dark decrees of fate 
 Can mortal man no compact make — 
 
 Disaster strides apace. 
 
6o • 
 
 Das Leid von der Glocke. 
 
 Wohl ! nun kann der Guss heginnen 
 
 Schon gezacket ist der Bruch ; 
 
 Dock bevor wir's lassen rinnen^ 
 
 Betet einenfrommen Struck ! 
 
 Stosst den Zapfen aus ! 
 
 {fiott bewahr* das Haus !) 
 Rauchend in des Henkels Bogen 
 Schiessfs mit feuerbraunen Wogen. 
 
 ^ il» 'F 4(fr 
 
 Von dem Pome 
 
 Schwer und bang 
 
 Tont die Glocke 
 
 Grabgesang*^; 
 Ernst begleiten ihre Trauerschlage 
 Einen wandrer auf dem letzen Wege. 
 
Schiller's Song of the BelL 
 
 Now rrny the casting be begun ^ 
 
 Well the brittle fibres spread! 
 
 But before we let it run^ " 
 
 Let a solemn -prayer be said. 
 
 Strike the fosset loose I 
 
 {God befriend the house !) 
 
 Into the holloWy wrapped in steam^ 
 
 Shoots the seething fiery stream. 
 « # ♦ 
 
 From on high 
 Sounds the bell, 
 Deep and solemn 
 Tolls the knell ; 
 Tidings these sad sounds convey, 
 
 * 
 
 A traveller journeys death's highway. 
 
 6i