8 
 
 MAN C E
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Jo Swerling
 
 " ""■■"*:': ' '^■':; ' '<'^'--^l!Sl!!' ' !::!--'-''^i;'::;r:: ! .:-:vH:4ii;i;!i|iiliii:ii^^ 
 
 In'lir'llll.lll/ ;l!l 
 
 i III !» 
 
 iiilJi !
 
 ROMANCE IN SONG 
 
 HEINE'S LYRICAL INTERLUDE 
 
 TRANSLATED BV 
 
 FRANKLIN JOHNSON 
 
 lUustvatcrt 
 
 BOSTON 
 D. LOTIIKOP AND ('0:\[PANY 
 
 FlIAXKLIX AND HAWLKY StKEF.TS
 
 Copyright, 
 BV D. LOTHROP & Co. 
 
 1&84. 
 
 ELE'TUOTVrEn 
 BV C. J. I'ETFRS & SON, BOSTON.
 
 
 PllEFACE. 
 
 In 1823 Heine published a volume containing two trage- 
 dies, Almansor and Ratcliff, and, between them, the present 
 collection of poems. He called these songs a Lj'rical Inter- 
 lude, a name perhaps designed to suggest not merely their 
 position in the book, l)ut also the inferior esteem in which, 
 at the time, he held them, as the slighter products of his 
 genius. Nevertheless, they have given him a fame which 
 must last as long as youth and love and disappointment ex- 
 ist in the world; while the plays, which he regarded as worthy 
 of more serious appreciation, have passed into oblivion. 
 
 The Lyrical Interlude possesses the charm of the highest 
 lyrical poetry. But it possesses also an interest of a different 
 kind. In its verses the author has recorded his version of 
 his unfortunate engagement to his cousin, Amalie Heine, 
 who broke her vows and married another man. It is impos- 
 sible to gather from these pages her motive in dismissing 
 him: various reasons are assigned, and possibly all of them 
 had their weight. But while the songs are worth little as
 
 4 I'lUlFACE. 
 
 a ret'ord of external laets, tiiev are fascinatino: as a levela- 
 lion oi a seiisiiiw nature in the delights of ydiulifnl love, 
 in the torment of d; nl)t and estrangement, and in ihi' de- 
 si>air and vearning whieli i"olh)W reject ion. 
 
 The l)o(dc has a deliiiite plan. The single stanza at the 
 beginning asserts i!iat the Avhole collection is a record of 
 the author's exjierienee. The earnest tone of these lines 
 is at once abandoned in the prologue, \\hieli is a Iniinorous 
 sketch t>f the atlair between the cousins. The lirst eleven 
 of the songs celebrate the joys of love, with occasional 
 uotes of pain, like those of tiie fourth and lil'tli. The fol- 
 lowing four are disturbed :\iili susiticions thinlv veiled in 
 jdayful forms of speech. This gritnp is succeeded by an- 
 other of four members, beo-innincr with the eno;aQ:emeiit, and 
 closing with the niari'iage of the woman to another man. 
 The rest are poems of accusation, mockery, yearning, wit, 
 tenderness, desolation, and des[)air, sc) intermingled tliat the 
 reader is never detained in any one inorxl long enough to 
 grow weary of it. Some of these fall into com[)anies, like 
 tlie fifty-eighth, lifty-ninlh. ;iiid sixtieth, which relate to 
 .suicide. There arc a few that yield (heir nicaning oidy 
 after a little study, as. foi- examj)le, the thirtj^-first, wliich 
 expresses in an ex(]uisite manner tiic hjiiging (j1" every nian
 
 ]'ni:FA(K. 5 
 
 for tlic coinpaiiiiiiisliip dl" one woman; the fifty-first, which 
 brings before lis the tlircc weird sisters of the northern 
 mythohigy; tlic lifty-fifth, in wliidi sudness is represented 
 by an assembhio-e of images of desohition ; tlie liftv-sixth, 
 in whicli tlie vast castle is tliis world, and the donblful 
 meeting- with the loved one a scene from eternity; or, 
 finally, the liity-eightli, wiiich presents two views of suicide, 
 that of hori'or, and that of compassion and hope. 
 
 I have rendered these songs into Englisli as a means of 
 recreation in the intervals of serious work. I could have 
 made my version more nearly literal, but I remembered that 
 Dryden long ago cautioned tlie translator against the danger 
 of losinof the spirit of his autlun' in his chase after the bodv. 
 I know very well that I have often failed to ti'ansfer the 
 subtler graces of Heine to my oavii tongue; yet it is not 
 improper for me to say that T have sought always to kee[) 
 before me the felicity of his language, the delicacy of his 
 fancy, the high finish of the miniatures which lie paints, 
 the smoothness and melody of his lines, his simplicity, his 
 ardor, his pathos, and his humor. 
 
 Camiuubgk, Mass., Oct. 8, 1884-
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGL 
 
 With my Anguish and my Yearning 12 
 
 I'tciuc Oiinl uiib luciiu' >iku]cn. 
 
 Prologue: There once avas a Silent and Sokroavful Knight . . It 
 
 idi wax mal ciu 'JUttcv, tviibjclii} uuC> [tiimm. 
 
 LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 
 
 I. 'TwAs in the Wondkous Month of May 17 
 
 3m uniubciid)oncn SJionat 9.Uai. 
 
 II. Where fell, my Tears of Sorrow 19 
 
 9(ui< inctncu !I(n'ancu fpricf^cit. 
 
 III. The Sun, the Uove, the Liia'. the Rose ........ 20 
 
 Sic 9ioic, Me ?tljc, bio 1nuln\ Mc *2oimc. 
 
 IV. When I ijkhold thy Gentle Eyes 20 
 
 2\?cuu id) ill bcinc '•}{u(\cn fci)'. 
 
 V. I had a Dream, and in the Air 21 
 
 S)cin 2(nnrfiri)t, fo lieb uiib id)ci!, 
 VI. Lean close thy Cheek against my Cheek 21 
 
 Sfl)n bcinc JlniiuV an indiu- SaiuV. 
 VII. I WILL DIP WITH Delight ^rY Fond Spirit 22 
 
 3d) unll inciiic 3ccli' taudjcii. 
 
 7
 
 8 c(>xtl:\ts. 
 
 VIII. TuK ir^TAiss OF IIkavkn stam> Changeless ...... 25 
 
 lie i'rcl)fu uulH'UH'iiliil). 
 
 IX. To TUK Ganuks, o'ki: Vvllkv8 AM) ^lorxTAiNs .... 2(5 
 
 X. The Tkxdeii Lotus is troiulei) 28 
 
 Jic Vote>>blimic aiuifiuit. 
 
 XI. Ix TiiK Wavks of the Kiiixe, Faih Kivek 31 
 
 o!ii :>il)ciit, im )i1)oiu'ii >2ti-oiiic. 
 
 XII. Tiiou Lov'sT not mi:, tuoi- i,ov'.st not mine 32 
 
 Til licbi't iiiiil) iiiilit, bii iti'bft mid) iuii)t, 
 
 XIII. O sweak not. Love, uut only kiss 32 
 
 C id)uun-c niilit uiib fiifie miv. 
 
 XIV. Ox iiEiJ Eyes of Violet ,33 
 
 "Jliif nidiicv .''^cv^liebftcii 'Jliindcin. 
 
 XV. Tell me, Deakest, tell mk whether 34 
 
 Vicbftc, iollft iniv bciitr faiicu. 
 
 XVI. Fair as Vexis rorn of Ocean 35 
 
 ii'ic bic i>JcUcii|d)aunuii'bovcuc. 
 
 XVII. I po NOT hate tiiee 35 
 
 3rf) c\vo\ic iud)t. 
 
 XVIII. Yes, Tiior art Wj;etciiku 36 
 
 3a, bit bift clciib. 
 
 XIX. The Flute and the Viol ring cheery 37 
 
 Xnai ift ciii Aliitcn unh Ghigen. 
 
 XX. Hast thou forgot that I possest thee ? 37 
 
 CO ()nft bit c\an\ iiiib gnv wrvficffcn. 
 
 XXI. If knew the Little Flowers 38 
 
 Uiib luiifftcu'^ bic 53(iiincii, bic flciiicn. 
 
 XXII. Why then are the Roses so Wan of Hue? 41 
 
 ii'nniin fiitb bcnit bic 9iofcii fo binjg? 
 
 XXIII. A Thousand Tales they rore thee 42 
 
 2 if I)abcii bir '43ifl cv^dl)lct. 
 
 XXIV. The Xightingalk sang and the Linden bloomed ... 43 
 
 Xic Viiibc bliil)tc, bic yjarf)tinnll faiifl.
 
 (JOS TENTH. 9 
 
 XXV. We have eki-t wmi k.\< ii 01111:1; I. ove's Fondest Delight 44 
 
 -|*ou- l)abcii 'i^ii'l fiii ciiiaiiDi'V (ii-liililt. 
 
 XXVI. TlIOU I.ONU WAST TKIE, I IIEAK TIIEE CKYl.Nti .... 44 
 
 Til lilii'iK-|t iiiiv 'treii am liiiiiv't-'i!. 
 XXVII. Long Ti.mk tiii; E.\i;tii witihiki.I) iiki: 'riiKAsciiEs . . 40 
 Xic (Svbi' unu- i\t laUiiL- iicijui. 
 
 XX VIII. IlEK Gextee Eves ake Violets 1]ele 4i» 
 
 Tie lUniicH iM'ilii)i'n bcr iHiifldciii. 
 
 XXIX. The Skv is Ui.ik am> the Eakth is Faii; 4'J 
 
 Tic :Si'lt tft id ii1)liii null bci- A^iinnict 'o blaii. 
 
 XXX. At eenotii, Sweet Love, the Daiiksome Tomu . . . . .JO 
 
 9J{i'iu fiiiV'vS 'i'leb, UK-iiii b!i im C^-^xAb. 
 
 XXXI. A Pine Tkee is staxdixcj i.oxklv ...■>] 
 
 Gill 5-id)tnibainn u.'bt eiiiimii. 
 
 XX XII. Ah, if I r.UT the Footstool wi:i;e . . ")4 
 
 ^M-], uiniii id) iiiiv ?a- 5rf)cini.i wax'. 
 
 XXXIII. Since my Love xow loves me xot ;"» 
 
 2i'it bie Vii'bit: mar ciitfonit. 
 
 XXXIV. P'rom Pain, avheiiein I languish . . . . "w 
 
 3(u-? tncincu ^xo\v\\ id)in;v^ciL 
 
 XXXV. The Si'nd.vv (kowd is roiitixo 57 
 
 '•4>()ilifteu ill 2oinitaiVJVorfli'in. 
 
 XXX\'L The Forms of Ti.mes FoiUiOTTEX 58 
 
 ■Ittaud) 33i(b Ui'rneii'.'iu'v ^fitcii. 
 
 XXXXII. A Youth oxce loved a M.viden GO 
 
 (iiu .siiiuiliiui licbt liii ■.iJuibd)i'n. 
 
 XXX\'I1I. I pi;av riiKK do xot stng me (51 
 
 S^i'cix' id) bii'^ Vicbd)oii fliiiiii'ii. 
 XXXIX. Ox Mv Dkkams oxce smiled a King's Faii; Child. . . 02 
 5J£iv traiiiut; luiii ciiioin Mliiiiii-jfiub. 
 XL. O'er the Stream the Mooxlk.iit (;loated . . .03 
 
 Diciii I'icbdii'u, unv iaiV.'ii bcitaiiiiiioii. 
 XLI. From the Legends of Times long before us .... G4 
 'JliK^ altiMi -.I'lavdii'ii iinuft c>3.
 
 10 COXTENl'S. 
 
 XLII. Yes, 1 have i.oved tuee, and I love thee still ... 65 
 Od) Ijnb" bid) gclicbft mib ticlic bid) nod). 
 
 XLlll. 1 STHAY TIIKOUCJH THE BLOOMY GahDEX 60 
 
 -}[m Iend)tciibcn ^oinnimnoviifn. 
 
 XLIV. Mv Love, in its Gloom and its Gloky 67 
 
 (i-j Unid)tct niciiic I'icbc. 
 
 XLV. They wkixg me with theiu Torture 68 
 
 2tc l)abcn imd) geqiuilct. 
 
 XLVI. The Rosy Glow of Summer 69 
 
 G>j licgt bcr I)ciJ3e iSommcr. 
 
 XL^'II. How oft when two are parting 69 
 
 iJi*cnn ^wci ihmi ciiuiiibcv I'djcibcn. 
 
 XLVIII. They say that my Songs are poisoned 70 
 
 i^cvfliftct ftnb niciiic Vicbcv. 
 
 XLIX. Again I dream the Olden Dream 71 
 
 I'lir tniiimtc luicbcv bcv alte Jvaum. 
 
 L. I stand upon the Mountain . 72 
 
 3d) ftc[)' auf bee 33cigcs 2pi|}c. 
 
 LI. My Carriage is rolling slowly 75 
 
 •Mcin 3£'ac\cix voUcl laugfam. 
 
 LII. E.VCII X^IGHT I SEE THY' FEATURES SWEET 76 
 
 'i!lllnad)t(id) im Xvanmc ici)' id^ bid). 
 
 LIIL 'Tis Dark, and the Kaixs are pouring 77 
 
 Xa? ift ctn iBraufcii unb §eulcn. 
 
 LIV. 'Tis a Frosty Night of Autumn 78 
 
 Xer .pcrbftrcinb riittclt bic 93dumc. 
 
 LV. A .Star to Earth is falling 79 
 
 Gel faiit cin Stern f)evuntcr. 
 
 LVL The Dream-God brought me to a Castle Vast ... 80 
 Xer Xranmgott brad)t' mid) in cin 3fic)cnfd)foiv. 
 
 LVII. The Midnight came; the Winds weri; Stili 83 
 
 Xie ilUttcrnod)! roar talt unb ftnmm. 
 
 LVIII. At the Cross-Roads they buried 84 
 
 %m .<tren',n)efl rcirb bcgraben.
 
 CONTENTS. 11 
 
 LIX. KouND ME Mist and Midxioiit Dkeaijy 85 
 
 ii?o trf) bin, iiiicf) viiuii^ iim&inifdt. 
 
 LX. NuiiiT LAY ui'ox mini; Evklids 85 
 
 'jfad)t lafi auf iuctneii 'Jtiiaeii. 
 
 LXl. The Old and Evil Numbeks 90 
 
 Xtc alten, bofeu I'tcbev.
 
 With my aiiguisli and my yearn- 
 
 ing 
 
 I have iilh'(l the book thou liold- 
 ^^ est; 
 
 ^"\ And, \\hilst thou the leaves art 
 tiininig, 
 
 Know that thou my heart uii 
 fohlest.
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 THERE ONCE WAS A SILENT AND SORROWFUL KNIGHT. 
 
 (Si3 luar mat ciu :'}iitta-, tviibfclii] iuil) jtuium. 
 
 There once was a silent 'and sorrowful knio-Ut 
 Whose pale (dieeks were gaunt with deep hollows: 
 He tottered, far-gazing, with nothing in sight, 
 As one wiio some vain vision follows ; 
 So stupid lie was, and so clumsy and queer, 
 That the llowers and the girls, when they saw him appear. 
 Broke out into laughter around him. 
 
 And oft would he sit in liis dim little room. 
 Afar from the cruel world stavino'. 
 
 And stretch forth with longing his arms throuoii the o-loom, 
 But never a syllable saying. 
 
 And once, while at midnio-ht thus reachino- about. 
 There came a weird singing and riugiug without. 
 And he heard at his door a sti'ange knocking. 
 
 13
 
 14 HEIXE-> LYRICAL IXTEIILIDE. 
 
 Then in swept ;i i'airv who loved the dull knight, 
 Her robes of the sea-foam, long-flowing. 
 Her wide veil with many a diamond bright, 
 Her faee like a ruddy rose glowing, 
 Her oolden hair fallino- in waves to her feet: 
 A moment their eyes met, with rapture replete, 
 When they Huno- their fond arms round each other. 
 
 She held the knight fast in a tender embrace, 
 Till his heart beat and beat like a hammer; 
 Tlie dreamer aroused, and grew red in the face, 
 The timid forgot liow to stammer; 
 And while he knew naught but his blissful surprise, 
 The fairy cast cunningly over his eyes 
 Her magical veil Ijright witli jewels. 
 
 To a crystalline palace of water the knight 
 By spells of enchantment was carried, 
 And stared in wild W(jnder, half-blinded with light, 
 Wirde long in its splendor he tarried. 
 The fairy caressed him, iier joy and her pride. 
 And lie was the bridegroom and she was the bride, 
 Wliile her maidens played sweetly the zither.
 
 HEINE'S LYUKAL I .XTEIIIA'DE. 15 
 
 The strains which they iiuuh' were so soft and so glad, 
 And llieir (hmees so c;-i'arei"nl ;in<l iiiry, 
 'I'hat ihe kniglit alniosl l<.si what [Kxir senses he liad, 
 And knew but to eling to the hury : — 
 When k), all the lights Avere pnt out at a stroke, 
 And the knight from his hliss and his glory awoke, 
 At home, in his dim ])oet's chamber.
 
 J 
 
 u 
 
 LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 
 
 'TWAS IN THE WONDROUS MONTH OF MAY. 
 3iu 2I>nnbericf)oncu ??tonat 93cai. 
 
 'T WAS ill tlie wondrous month of Ma}', 
 "Wlien ])U(ls were bursting round me, 
 That first love stole upon my soul, 
 And in its meshes hcnind me. 
 
 17
 
 18 
 
 IIEIXES LYRICAL IXTEIiUDE. 
 
 "T was in the "wondrous month of Mav, 
 When birds sang sweet aljove me, 
 That first, grown bold, my pain 1 told, 
 And heard her vows to love me.
 
 UEISE -S I. YIIK A L LXTIJtL IJDE. 
 
 Vd 
 
 II. 
 
 WHERE FELL MY TEARS OF SORROW. 
 
 '?(ui> tncincn If)vam'n ipvief^'ii. 
 Where fell my tears of sorrow 
 All flowers of beauty spring. 
 And for the slshs T uttered 
 
 Are niglitingales that sing. 
 
 Since thou dost love nie, dear one, 
 Tlie flowers to thee I luing, 
 And ever by thy window 
 Tlic niu'htinq-ales shall sing.
 
 20 HEIXE-S LYRICAL IM'EllLUDE. 
 
 HI. 
 
 THE SUN, THE DOVE, THE LILY, THE ROSE. 
 
 Xie Oioi""-'' ^ic Vilic, bie S^aubc, bic 3onne. 
 The sun, the dove, the lily, the rose, 
 1 loved with a joy that no words can disclose ; 
 But I love now more dearly a maiden the rarest: 
 The pretty, the witty, the fondest, the fairest, 
 "Whose graces and goodness no words can disclose. 
 Is my sun, my dove, my lily, my rose. 
 
 IV. 
 
 WHEN I BEHOLD THY GENTLE EYES. 
 
 SBenn id) \\\ bcine 3(ugen fe()'. 
 When I behold thy gentle eyes 
 I lose my grief and hush my sighs ; 
 But when thy rosy mouth I kiss 
 My heart is strong and full (d" bliss. 
 
 When I repose upon thy breast 
 I know the peace of heavenly rest; 
 But when tliy voice thy passion owns 
 I woep to hoar tlie formal tones.
 
 HEINE '^ LYIUCAL INTERLUDE. 21 
 
 V. 
 
 I HAD A DREAM, AND IN THE AIR. 
 ■Dein 5Iu(jel'id)t, fo lieb iml) )d)on. 
 
 I HAD a dieaiii, and in the air 
 I saw thy face serene and fair, 
 And as an angel's mild and meek ; 
 And wan with pain were brow and cheek. . 
 
 Thy lips are rose set round with snow; 
 And soon, death-kist, the rose must go, 
 And all the light of Heaven displayed 
 Upon thy gracious eyes must fade. 
 
 VI. 
 
 LEAN CLOSE THY CHEEK AGAINST MY CHEEK. 
 
 ?ef)n beine 2i?nnfl' nn meine 25}ant]'. 
 
 Lean close thy cheek against my cheek, 
 That our tears together ma}^ blend, love, 
 And press thy heart upon my heart. 
 That from both one flame may ascend, love.
 
 .->••> 
 
 11EL\E -S L YRi LA L IXTERL I '])E. 
 
 And while in lliai llame llius (l(iubl\ luiwht 
 Our tears art' lalliii<«- ami tlirctiio-inu- 
 Ami wliik' ill \\\\ aims I clasp lliee li'>lil, 
 I will ili(> wiili love and IdiiLi'ino-. 
 
 VII. 
 I WILL DIP WITH DELIGHT MY FOND SPIRIT. 
 
 ■3d) uiill mciiic 2cclc taud)en. 
 
 I WILL di]i \\illi delight my fond spirit 
 In the dejiths oT this lily's while hell, 
 And the lily shall breathe, that she hear it, 
 ^V >i'ii;4 of the (Jiie I love well. 
 
 And I he song, with faint i)erfume, shall (jiiiver 
 ()\\ tlie tremulous lips of the flower, 
 Like the kiss 1 shall carry forever, 
 J hat she t^ave mo one raptnions honr.
 
 ffmi^Ximiii;^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 'M
 
 UEiyE'S lAlllCAL IX'i ElilJ UE. 
 
 26 
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE STARS OF HEAVEN STAND CHANGELESS. 
 
 (Si3 fteljen uubciiieglid). 
 
 The stars of heaven stand changeless 
 For many thonsand years, 
 And gaze on one another 
 With all love's l)lissfnl fears. 
 
 They have one speech among them, 
 Most rich and full of grace : 
 Yet none of all the linguists 
 Its meaning knows to trace. 
 
 But I have learned the language, 
 And speak it evermore, 
 For I have had for giannnar 
 Tlie face that I adore.
 
 '2U IlElM-r^S LYRICAL lyTEllLLDE. 
 
 IX. 
 
 TO THE GANGES. O'ER VALLEYS AND MOUNTAINS. 
 
 To IIr' Ciaiiges, o'er valleys and niouiitaiiis, 
 \)\\ llie jtiniuns of song let us soar, 
 .;\iid dwell amid bowers and iuuntains. 
 Where sorrow sliall trouble no more. 
 
 1 know there a pleasannce red-blooiiiing 
 And wide under moon-silvered skies: 
 And tlic lotus, its lakelet pert'nming, 
 Waits lono" for liei- sister, and sio'hs. 
 
 I 
 
 There are violets tenderly smiling 
 To the star studded heavens above. 
 And roses tlie senses beguiling 
 A-; (lie\ liicathe fraorant stories of love. 
 
 Tlicre the hajiiiy leaves rustle and (juiver; 
 The oetitle gazelles nimbly boniKl ;
 
 HEINE -S L YU 1 CA L INTER I I 'DE. 
 
 And the waves of ilic ((insecrate river 
 Lull the ear with Ihcii- iiiiinimnnis sfmud. 
 
 And there will we rest, with loud kisses. 
 At the foot of some hio-h-braiichiiig palm, 
 And driid-: to our lill of love's blisses 
 111 a clime ot jierennial calm. 
 
 27
 
 28 HEINE 6 LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 
 
 X. 
 
 THE TENDER LOTUS IS TROUBLED. 
 
 Tie Votocblimie aiuiftii]t. 
 
 Tin-: tender lotus is troubled 
 By the pomp of the sun's fierce light, 
 And she bows her head and slumbers 
 And dreams of the comino- nioht. 
 
 The moon is lier favored wooer, 
 And she wakes when hu shines on her gloom, 
 And fondly unvails to his glances 
 Her holy face of bloom. 
 
 She blows and blushes and brightens, 
 And iTi^zes in silence above. 
 And sighs and weeps and trembles 
 For love and the pain of love.
 
 -^ 'i- -._J»^-, .^
 
 HEINE'S LYRICAL IMLRLUDE. 31 
 
 XI. 
 
 IN THE WAVES OF THE RHINE, FAIR RIVER. 
 ■3m 'Ji()ciii, im fdjoncn Stvome. 
 
 In the waves of the Rhine, fair river, 
 By the- sacred cit}', Cologne, 
 Forever play and quiver 
 The cathedral's spires of stone. 
 
 In that minster vast and olden 
 A sainted picture stands. 
 And it casts a radiance golden 
 O'er my life's drear waste of sands. 
 
 Midst angels bending lowly 
 Appears our Lady of Grace, 
 And all her features holy 
 Are those of thy gentle face.
 
 32 HEIXE'S LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 
 
 Xll. 
 
 THOU LOV'ST NOT ME. THOU LOV'ST NOT MINE. 
 
 Xu liclift mid) nid)t, bit licbft mid) uid)t. 
 
 "Thou lov"st not me, thou lov'st not mine" — 
 Tliese jests do not alarm me, 
 For I bi'hold that face of thine, 
 Ami thou dost only charm me. 
 
 " Thou hatest, hatest me and mine " — 
 
 Thy rosy lips would fright me ; 
 
 But let me kiss those lips of thine. 
 
 And they will still delight me. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 SWEAR NOT, LOVE, BUT ONLY KISS. 
 
 O \d]m'6xi ind)t unb in]]i nnv. 
 O SWKAU not, love, hut only kiss; 
 I trust no woman's vow at all. 
 Thy words are sweet, hut sweeter is 
 The little mouth from which they fall.
 
 HEINE'S LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 33 
 
 A kiss is something to beliuve, 
 
 But words arc bieatli, and words deceive. 
 
 O swear, my love, tliat tliou art mine! 
 For in thy simple word 1 rest ! 
 When on thy bosom I recline 
 I trust that I am iully blest! 
 No doubt for me thy heart shall thrill — 
 Forever, and much longer still ! 
 
 XIV. 
 
 ON HER EYES OF VIOLET. 
 5luf nicincr iper^Ucdfteii 'JtiiL]eIein. 
 
 Ox her ej'es of violet 
 I will make a canzonet ; 
 On her moutli red-ripe and small 
 I will make a madrigal ; 
 And if she a heart possest 
 In her coldly heaving breast 
 I would sing it all day long 
 In a hii]ip3% happy song.
 
 :34 HEIAE'S LYRICAL IM'ERLUDE. 
 
 XV. 
 
 TELL ME, DEAREST, TELL ME WHETHER. 
 Vicbfte, fodft mil fjcutc fac]i'u. 
 Tell me, dearest, tell me whether 
 Tliou art but a vision fair 
 Such as, in the summer leather. 
 Poets fancy in the air. 
 
 Na}-, a mouth so honev-hiden, 
 Eyes of fire so bright and warm, 
 Such a sweet and lovely maiden, 
 Never poet knew to form. 
 
 Basilisks and vampires gory, 
 Monsters vast of every name, . 
 Evil beasts of ancient story. 
 Issue from the i)oet's flame. 
 
 But thy face so falsely gracious, 
 And thy form without a heart, 
 And thy witching eyes fallacious, 
 Far surpass all poet's art.
 
 HEINE'S LYRICAL IMEIiLUDE. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 FAIR AS VENUS BORN OF OCEAN. 
 3Bic bic ii3eUcufd}auuu]ebovcnc. 
 Fair as Venus burn of ocean 
 Is the maiden once niy pride 
 As she wanders Avitli dev(jtion 
 At yon happy stranger's side. 
 
 Heart, my heart, though doomed to Languish, 
 Though betrayed and set at nought, 
 Bear and pardon all tlie anguish 
 That the lovely fool has wrought. 
 
 XVIT. 
 
 I DO NOT HATE THEE, 
 
 x)d) c]rof(c nid]t. 
 I DO not hate thee, thougji this moan I make ; 
 I will not hate thee, though my heart should break. 
 Thy brow with pomp of diamonds is bright, 
 But shines no ray upon thy soul's deep night.
 
 36 HEIXirS TA'UICAL IXTERLVDE. 
 
 I knew it litii<:r. In Jieanis I saw it all : 
 I saw tlie starless darkness on tliee fall; 
 I saw I he ser[)ents gnawing in thy breast ; 
 And knew that thou should'st nevermore liave rest. 
 
 XVllI. 
 YES, THOU ART WRETCHED. 
 
 Oa, bii (lift clcub. 
 Yes, thou art wretched, and this moan I make 
 Mv lost, lost love, we both must live in pain: 
 Till kindly death owv stricken hearts shall break, 
 Mv love, lienceforth we both must live in pain. 
 
 I see thy silent lips with scorn comprest ; 
 I see thine eyes flame out their fierce disdain ; 
 I see the pride that lieaves within thy 1)reast : — 
 But thou, as I, henceforth must live in pain. 
 
 Thy griefs npon tliy pale face come and go; 
 Thine inward tears thou scarcely canst restrain ; 
 Thy haughty bosom hides a world of woe : — 
 My love, henceforth we both must live in pain.
 
 HEINE'S LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 37 
 
 XIX. 
 
 THE FLUTE AND THE VIOL RING CHEERY. 
 
 -Diu^ ift cin J^-Iotai imb Oict.qcn. 
 The flute and tlie viol ring chceiv, 
 And shrill aro the triunpet's notes, 
 And light through her bridal-dance merry 
 The form of my lost one floats. 
 
 I hear the wild ujiroar and clamor 
 Of cornet and kettle-drum ; — 
 And then, as the temjiest grew calmer, 
 The sobs of good angels come. 
 
 XX. 
 
 HAST THOU FORGOT THAT I POSSEST THEE. 
 (So ^aft bit pan^ itnb cjar bcrqcffen. 
 
 Hast thou forgot that I possest thee, 
 And often to my bosom prest thee. 
 And swayed thy heart so sweet and false and small 
 That sweeter, falser, there is none at all?
 
 38 HEIXirS LYRICAL ISTERLUDE. 
 
 Hast thou forgot that I possest thee, 
 And oft with h)ve and pain carest thee? 
 I know not wliich was greater, love or pain ; 
 I know that both were great, as both were vain. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 IF KNEW THE LITTLE FLOWERS, 
 
 Hub juu[iten't> bie i^hunen, bie fleinen. 
 If knew the little llowers 
 How bleeds my wounded heart, 
 They would weep in balmy showers 
 To heal me of my smart. 
 
 If knew the birds far-flying 
 The griefs that in me throng, 
 They would haste to hear my sighing, 
 And comfort me with song. 
 
 If knew the stars of even 
 The pangs that fill my breast, 
 They would leave their golden heaven 
 To tell me of its rest.
 
 HEINE'S JAIIKJAL 1 .XTERIJ: Li:. 41 
 
 These cainiot see the luiguish ; 
 One only knows my pain ; 
 But 'tis she that bade hk- hinguish 
 And rent my heart in twain. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 WHY THEN ARE THE ROSES SO WAN OF HUE? 
 2Barum finb benu bie 9tofcn i"o b(a|'5? 
 
 Why then are the roses so wan of hue ? 
 My loved one, canst thou tell? 
 And why in the grass do the violets blue 
 Give forth no goodly smell ? 
 
 Why then sings the lark a dirge of deatli 
 Among the leaden clouds ? 
 And why is the meadow-balsam's breath 
 An odor as of shrouds? 
 
 Why then is the sun so pale and cold, 
 And its light l)ut a golden gloom ? 
 And why has the earth grown gray and old, 
 And dreary as a tomb?
 
 HEIXE -S L rniCA L L\ TEH L I DE. 
 
 Why tlu'ii is my lie;nt so lorn and tost, 
 Like rt tenipest-liaiiied sea? 
 O, tell nie. tliou iiiaiJen loved and lost 
 Why thou hast turned I'roni nie? 
 
 Will. 
 
 A THOUSAND TALES THEY BORE THEE. 
 
 5ie I)a(ien Mr i!^io[ er;a()(ct. 
 A THOUSAND tales they bore thee, 
 And oft of nie conijilained. 
 But never set before thee 
 What most my soul has jDained. 
 
 With noisy tongues they blamed me, 
 And shook their heads as grieved, 
 And as a Avretch defamed me, 
 And thou hast all believed. 
 
 Yet far the saddest folly 
 They never have revealed ; 
 The saddest and the maddest 
 Is in my heart concealed.
 
 HEINE 'S L YRK A A IXTEliL I 1)E. 
 
 43 
 
 f"^ 
 
 ^;.<^\ 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 'M'y / 'J-^ ^^g NIGHTINGALE SANG AND 
 
 THE LINDEN BLOOMED. 
 Xic Vinbc b(iU)tc, Mc ':)cncl)tiqal( fauq. 
 a \.#*^, X ^.: ^>^ .^v Xhe uiglitingale sang and the linden 
 
 bloomed. 
 And the sun smiled kind as an angel 
 
 blest, 
 And she gave me a kiss with her breath 
 
 perfumed, 
 And she strained me close to her heav- 
 insf breast. 
 
 The raven croaked hoarse and the brown 
 leaves fell. 
 And the sun sent forth but a sickly shade. 
 And we said to each other a cold farewell. 
 And a courtesy stately and courtly she made.
 
 44 HEiyE-S LYRICAL IM'ERLUDE. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 WE HAVE FELT WITH EACH OTHER LOVE'S FONDEST 
 
 DELIGHT. 
 
 :Ji^ii l)abcn ^mcI fiti- ctnaubcr iicfiil)tt. 
 We Juive felt with each other love's fondest delidit. 
 And yd most diseieetl}- oiiiselves we have carried: 
 2s (J one ever knew us to scratch or to fight, 
 Though at Husband and Wife we have played, as if married; 
 And often with glee we have shouted and laughed, 
 Anil tlie sweet cuj) of kisses together have quaffed. 
 At last in our childish diversion we came 
 To playing Go Seek in the wood and the glen, 
 And we managed to hide us so well in the game 
 That we never shall find one another again. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 THOU LONG WAST TRUE, I HEAR THEE CRYING. 
 Xit [ihebcft mir treu am tciiiflftcn. 
 Tnou long wast true, I hear thee crying: 
 Aly name thou hast defended 
 When I was all luilVi ended, 
 And comforted my pain and sighing.
 
 HEINE'S f.Vn/iAL INTERLUDE. 45 
 
 The daily breud 1 atu tliou bouglitest, 
 Thy money thou didst lend me, 
 My passport tliou didst send me, 
 The very shirt I wore thou wioughtest. 
 
 jNIy love, for this may God well guard thee 
 From heat and cold forever; — 
 And may His justice never 
 Thy many goodnesses reward thee !
 
 46 HEiyE-:< LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 LONG TIME THE EARTH WITHHELD HER TREASURES. 
 
 5^ic (ijvbe wax fo laiuic i]c\(u-\. 
 
 LoN(; time tlie earth withheld her treasures ; 
 l>ui May brought wealtli to liehl and tahle, 
 And all men laughed with new-liorn jjleasures, 
 Wiiilc I to smile was all unable. 
 
 Though tlowers sprang fresh each dewy morrow, 
 Though birds spake out as in some fable. 
 Naught pleased my soul, for cruel sorrow 
 Had wra[>t me in her mantle sable. 
 
 I shun the whole wide race of Adam ; 
 I cannot bear the world's loud babel : — 
 And all because they call thee Madam, 
 ( ) woman lovely as unstable.
 
 HEINE'S LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 49 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 HER GENTLE EYES ARE VIOLETS BLUE. 
 Tic bUiueii 33eild)eii bei I'duiclein. 
 
 Hei: gentle eyes are violets blue, 
 Her cheeks red roses washed with dew, 
 Her hands white lilies opened new: 
 These l)looni and hloom from year to year. 
 Her heart alone is old and sere. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 THE SKY IS BLUE AND THE EARTH IS FAIR. 
 J)ie liBett ift fo fcfjLht unb bcr .'pimmrl fo Man. 
 
 The sky is blue and the earth is fair, 
 And softly breathes the summer air. 
 And fields are pied witli blossoms rare, 
 And mornino" dew-drops glint and glare, 
 And men are joyous everywhere; 
 
 Yet would we might leave sweet world and sweet weather 
 And lie in one grave close nestled together.
 
 50 HEIXES LYRICAL lyTERLLDE. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 AT LENGTH, SWEET LOVE, THE DARKSOME TOMB. 
 
 ih'eiii fiiiu'C' I'ieb, iiicim iMi iai (inal'. 
 At length, sweet love, the daiksonie toinl) 
 From other eyes shall hide thee. 
 And I will seek thee in the o-looni. 
 And nestle close beside thee. 
 
 And I ^\■ill joy tt) kiss thy face. 
 And tremhle while I press thee. 
 And weej* with thee in my embrace, 
 And die, and thus possess thee. 
 
 The dead may hear the midnight call. 
 And dance on sward and heather, 
 lint we beneath onr grassy pall . 
 Will .shnnbei' on together. 
 
 The dead sliall hear the trumpet sound. 
 And rise to joy oi- sorrow : 
 I)Ut (ill, to clasp thee in the groutid 
 Tliron^di in'idit without a morrow!
 
 HEINE'S LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 53 
 
 XXXL 
 
 A PINE TREE IS STANDING LONELY. 
 (Sin ^tdjteuOaum ftefjt ciu[am. 
 
 A PINE tree is standing lonely 
 In tlie North on a barren height : 
 It sleeps ; and its boughs the snow-drifts 
 Enfold in robes of white. 
 
 It dreams there of a palm tree 
 That afar in an Eastern land 
 Alone and in silence sorrows 
 On a burning waste of sand.
 
 UEiyi: -6 L \ -III CAL ly 1 ERL UDE. 
 
 xxxir. 
 
 AH, IF I BUT THE FOOTSTOCL WERE. 
 
 •iKd), mcuu id) nnv bcr 3d)i';iicl luilv". 
 
 {The licad Hpeaha^ 
 All. ii" ] but tlie footstool were 
 'NVlieroou' licr small feet daily rest, 
 I never Would ciunplaiu to her, ^ 
 
 However liard I miglit be prest. 
 
 {The heart speaks.') 
 W\. il" J but the cushion were 
 AMieieiii her pius and needles sleep, 
 i would but joy the more of her 
 If slie should i)ieree me oft and deep. 
 
 {Tlie aomj speaha.) 
 All. if T but the paper were 
 Wliei-ein slie curls her silken hair, 
 Tlien would I nestle close to her 
 And \vljisi)er all tlie love I iK'ar.
 
 HEINE'S LVniCAL LXlEnLLDE. 55 
 
 XXXI II. 
 
 SINCE MY LOVE NOW LOVES ME NOT. 
 
 3i'it Me Vicbftc wax cutfciiit. 
 Since my love now loves me not, 
 lluw lo lauL;h I have lorgot ; 
 Jests no more my griefs beguile, 
 For 1 cannot, cannot .smile. 
 
 Since my love now loves me not. 
 Mow to weep 1 have forgot ; 
 Broken is my heart with woe, 
 lint my tears refuse to flow. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 FROM PAIN, WHEREIN I LANGUISH. 
 
 "2(11^^ mciuen civollcn 2cf)inor^eii. 
 From pain, wherein I languish, 
 ]\Iy little songs I utter, 
 And their rustlino- wings thev flutter 
 And l)ear her mv tale of anguish.
 
 66 
 
 HEINES LYRICAL IMEULUDE. 
 
 They find her heart, but stay not: 
 Thev come asrain witli siijhinfj, 
 They come again with crying; 
 Yet what they have seen they say not.
 
 HEINE'S LYRICAL INTERLUDE. o7 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 THE SUNDAY CROWD IS POURING. 
 
 t^l)ilifter in 3onnta()^iocfletn. 
 The iSuiiday eruwd is pouring, 
 Gay dressed, through woods and fields, 
 With leaps and shouts exploring 
 The charms fair Nature yields, 
 
 With ej'es of owls wise-l)linlving 
 At all romantic things, 
 With ears of asses drinking 
 The song the sparrow sings. 
 
 But I my room will darken, 
 And shut me from the noise, 
 And in the gloom will hearken 
 A haunting spirit-voice. 
 
 For thus in fancy often 
 My love of otlier years 
 Comes back my licart to soften 
 Willi her r('[)entant tears.
 
 58 
 
 !IEL\E-S 1. Vine A L L\ TKlil. I ])£. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 THE FORMS OF TIMES FORGOTTEN, 
 
 Till': forms of times foro-otten 
 FiYiiii out tlieir grave arise, 
 And sli(y\v \m)\x once I son-owed 
 Before tli}- cruel eyes. 
 
 By day I tottered dreaming 
 Along this l)usy street, 
 Whose people paused in wonder 
 So sad a man to meet.
 
 iii:l\e-s i.ynicAL imeiiudk. 59 
 
 By iiiglit my case was better, 
 For tliL'ii llie ways were clear, 
 While willi my raitlii'ul shadow 
 I wall<c(l ill silence here. 
 
 Across the bridge i sauntered; 
 INIy footsteps echoed loud; 
 And solemnly the mnonbeams 
 Looked down thrdngli brDlv'cn cloud. 
 
 1 stood before thv dwelling', 
 And gazed and gazed above, 
 And saw thy frowning window 
 In pain of hopeless love. 
 
 I know that thou hast often 
 
 Looked out through moonlight fair, 
 
 And seen me silent standing, 
 A statue of desjiair.
 
 GO 
 
 /iA'AVA-.s- LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 
 
 XXXVJi. 
 
 A YOUTH ONCE LOVED A MAIDEN. 
 
 Gin 3iinglin(] (icbt eiu 93uibd)cn. 
 A YOUTH once loved a maiden 
 Who for another sighed , 
 That other loved another, . 
 And she became his bride. 
 
 Tlie maiden wed in anger 
 The very first kind beau 
 Who met her witli an offer, 
 And left the youth in woe.
 
 IIEIXE\S LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 61 
 
 It is an ancient stoiy, 
 And vet forever new ; 
 And always wlien this happens 
 A heart is torn in two. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 I PRAY THEE DO NOT SING ME. 
 v^or' id) ba^ ?iebcf)en f(tm]en. 
 I PRAY thee do not sing me 
 That old familiar strain ; 
 The songs she used to carol bring me 
 But memories of pain. 
 
 And filled with gloomy yearning, 
 I seek the forest deep, 
 
 And find, while tears fall thick and burning, 
 The peace of them that weep.
 
 62 HEINE'S LYRICAL LXTEU Lr DE. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 ON MY DREAMS ONCE SMILED A KING'S FAIR CHILD. 
 
 ::\liiv tviiiiiutc luni ciiiom Moniqcfiub. 
 On my dveains once t^iiiiU'd a king's fair child, 
 Willi iVaturcs sad and pallid. 
 
 And she heard my vows 'neath the linden houi^lis. 
 Where in love's delight we dallied. 
 
 "•I \\()uld not oAvn thy father's thro)ie, 
 Xor the sceptred gold before him. 
 Nor the stones that gem liis diadem ; 
 But for thee I shall implore him." 
 
 " Tt may not he." she answered me. 
 "For I lie in the graveyard lonely; 
 IliiL at nighl I am free, and will e(jme to thee, 
 For I love thee, love thee only."
 
 HEINE'S LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 63 
 
 XL. 
 
 O'ER THE STREAM THE MOONLIGHT GLOATED, 
 
 9Jceiu Vicbd)eu, uuv fajfuMi bcifaiiniicu. 
 
 O'er the streain the luooiiliiiiit u'loated, 
 And down [just Inink iiiid hiay 
 111 our boat well-pleased we floated 
 Afar on our watery way. 
 
 The isles of the blest before us 
 Lay dim in the paU; moon's glauee, 
 And we heard a happy chorus. 
 And we saw faint inist-forms dance. 
 
 And the strains o-rew sweet and sweeter, 
 And the mists more fair and glad ; 
 But we left them, sailing fleeter, 
 For this ocean, wide and sad.
 
 64 HEISES LYRILAL INTERLUDE. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 FROM THE LEGENDS OF TIMES LONG BEFORE US. 
 
 Fiio.M the leu:eiids of times loiiq; before us 
 There beckons a pale spectral hand, 
 And tliere lloats on the air a soft cliorus, 
 The sounds of a nuifjical land, 
 
 o 
 
 Where flowers stand vast in the splendor 
 That Hushes the evening-tide, 
 And yearn Avitli an aspect as tender 
 As the niild-beaniinof face of a bride, 
 
 'o 
 
 Wliere the trees of the vales and the mountains. 
 Like a holy choir, solemnly sing, 
 And tlie chimes of a myriad fountains 
 Like tlie notes of a merry waltz ring. 
 
 Where tlie love-songs breathe only of pleasure, 
 And are sweet as thou never hast heard, 
 Till with longings divine beyond measure 
 The heart is enra])tni('d and stirred.
 
 HEINE'S LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 65 
 
 Then oli, Un- tliat l)i-ii;lil land of stoiy, 
 And (ill, for its clieer and its rest, 
 Where all darkness is turned into glory, 
 And the soul witli full freedom is blest. 
 
 All, land without sio-hino; and sorrow. 
 In my dreams through thy scenes I oft roam ; 
 But alas, with the dawn of each morrow 
 The vision dissolves like the foam. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 YES, I HAVE LOVED THEE, AND I LOVE THEE STILL 
 
 3d) ^tiC>' bid) i^chebet nub (iede bid) nod) 
 Yes, I have loved thee, and I love thee still ; 
 And when the worlds shall end with wild commotion, 
 Above the waste of wreck and ruin will 
 Arise and shine the flame of my devotion.
 
 GO 
 
 HEiyE'ii LYRIC AL INTERLUDE. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 I STRAY THROUGH THE BLOOMY GARDEN. 
 5{iu (cud)tcnben (Sommeimoicieu. 
 I STKAV tliroiiCTli the blouinv garden 
 111 the gk)W of the morning clear, 
 And tlie flowers begin to w]iis.per, 
 And I licjlitlv tread, and liear. 
 
 The flowers begin to wliisper. 
 And my face with pity scan 
 '' Be not unkind to our sister, 
 Tliou i)ale and sorrowing man/'
 
 HEINE 'a LYRICAL INTERLUDE. G7 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 MY LOVE, IN ITS GLOOM AND ITS GLORY. 
 (S^ Ieud)tet meiiie Viebc. 
 j\lv lijve, ill its gloom and its glory, 
 So dark now, though once "t was so bright, 
 Resembles a wild fairy story 
 Which I heard on a soft summer night. 
 
 o 
 
 " In a park that magicians had planted 
 Two lovers at evening time strayed. 
 And round them the nightingales chanted 
 And the light of the full moon played. 
 
 "The knight to the maidcMi was kneeling, 
 Who stood like a statue to hear, 
 When towards them a giant came reeling. 
 And she fled from the monster in fear. 
 
 "The knight sank down dying and gory, 
 The giant reeled back to his cave," — 
 The end of this tragical story 
 Will a[>[)('ar when I lie in the grave.
 
 68 UEIXE'S LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 THEY WRUNG ME WITH THEIR TORTURE. 
 
 2ic l)abcn mid) iicquiilet. 
 They wrung me with their torture 
 Till I was black and white ; 
 Some did it witli llicir loving, 
 Some did it with their spite. 
 
 And all I drank they poisoned, 
 And poisoned all I ate ; 
 Some did it with their loving, 
 Some did it with their hate. 
 
 But she who most has aided 
 To make my torment great. 
 Did never, never love me, 
 Nor did she ever hate.
 
 HEINE' a LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 69 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 THE ROSY GLOW OF SUMMER, 
 
 (£ci ticc]t bcr (jciilc 2oiiuitci. 
 The rosy glow of suiuiner 
 Is on thy dimpled cheek, 
 While in thy lieart the winter 
 Is lying cold and bleak. 
 
 Bnt this will change hereafter, 
 When years have done their part, 
 And on thy cheek be winter, 
 And summer in thy heart. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 HOW OFT WHEN TWO ARE PARTING 
 
 :ilH'nn ,3'^'fi ^^^^ eiuanber fcf)ctbcn. 
 How oft when two are parting 
 Their hands are tightly prest. 
 And tears of grief are starting, 
 And sighs oppress the breast.
 
 ro 
 
 J/E/yE-S LYniCAI. IXTKinJDE. 
 
 But Ave more lightly panod; 
 Nu word of woe was heard, 
 Kor wept we brt)ken-hearted ; — 
 All that came afterward. 
 
 XLYIIJ. 
 
 THEY SAY THAT MY SONGS ARE POISONED 
 
 iH'Vciiftct fiitb iiieine !?icbcr. 
 Hi-:v say that 1113- songs are poisoned — 
 How could it otherwise be? 
 On the bloom of my life thou pourest 
 The venom that wells in thee. 
 
 They say that my songs are poisoned — 
 How eould it otherwise be? 
 I bear in my heart many serjients, 
 And tliee, beloved, thee
 
 HEINE'S LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 
 
 71 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 AGAIN I DREAM THE OLDEN DREAM 
 W\x ti'ditmte uiiebcr bcr a(tc Xraiim. 
 
 ^UrAiN I (Ireain the olden dreain ; 
 We sit the May-bouglis under, 
 And both' vow to love as now 
 Till death onr trne lioarts sun- 
 der. 
 
 She kist me twice, she kist me thrice, 
 And then, before she quit me, 
 Tliat she might not be soon forgot, 
 She took my hand and l)it me. 
 
 O h)ve with eyes like clearest skies, 
 Why mar the bliss of plighting? 
 With words so meet and lips so sweet. 
 There was no need of l)iting.
 
 72 yy^/AA' 6 lirical lxterlude. 
 
 L. 
 
 1 STAND UPON THE MOUNTAIN. 
 od) ftel)" m\ bciS 23eri]c^o Spi^^e. 
 I STAND u|)()ii the mountain, 
 And weave romantic rhymes, 
 And for a bird's light pinions 
 I siq-li a thousand times. 
 
 o 
 
 Oh, were I a sillven swall(jw, 
 I would l)uild my little nest 
 Beneath thy chamber window. 
 And near thee ever rest. 
 
 Oh, were I a down}- tln-ostle, 
 I would seek thy linden tree, 
 And from its verdant bowsers 
 Sing all my songs to thee. 
 
 Oh, were I a silvery sea-gull, 
 J would fly to thy gentle heart, 
 For I have seen how tender 
 To a certain gull thou art.
 
 
 '•^W^V^^^^
 
 HEINE'S LYRICAL INTEliUJDE. 75 
 
 MY CARRIAGE IS ROLLING SLOWLY. 
 iDfciu Sininni votlct laiu^fnm. 
 My carriage is rolling slowly. 
 Ill I 111" glory of the day, 
 Thi'ouuh vales oi' tliick-slrewu llowers, 
 And forests green with ]\Iay, 
 
 I muse in dreamy rapture 
 Of the maid of maids most dear, 
 When in at the carriage ^vindo^v 
 Three sha]^es of shadow ]»eer. 
 
 With frisks and wild grimaces. 
 Most scornful and yet most sliy. 
 They swirl like mists togetlier. 
 And leer, and hurr}' b}'.
 
 76 H1:L\Es LYUICAL lyTERLUDE. 
 
 LII. 
 
 EACH NIGHT 1 SEE THY FEATURES SWEET. 
 
 "i!Uliuid)tlid) im Jvaiuno jet)' id) bid). 
 Each night 1 see thy features sweet; 
 Tliou smil'st when I am sleeping; 
 Anil in niy dreanis before thy feet 
 I cast me, loiull)' weeping. 
 
 Thou look'st on me with pitying grace, 
 And shak'st thy golden tresses, 
 "While many a tear-drop down thy face 
 In pearly lustre presses. 
 
 A cypress wreatli thou giv'st to me. 
 With accents low and broken: — 
 I wake ; and lo, no wreath T see. 
 Nor know what thou hast spoken.
 
 HEINE'S LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 
 
 77 
 
 LIII. 
 'TIS DARK; AND THE RAINS ARE POURING. 
 
 2)a§ tft cin ^Braufcu m\\> .'pculen. 
 'T IS dark ; and the rains are pouring ; 
 And the autumn winds are wild ; 
 And where, mid tlie rush and ruuring, 
 Is my poor unhappy child ? 
 
 In her lonely room I see her; 
 At the window leans her form ; 
 And through tears — for hopes all Hee her 
 She gazes on night and storm.
 
 78 IlELXES LYUICAL lyTEllLlDE. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 'TIS A FROSTY NIGHT OF AUTUMN. 
 
 Xcr .pcvbftunub viitlclt bio i^amuc. 
 "T IS a frostv iiiLilit ol" autumn, 
 And llic "winds in tlic tvee-tops moan ; 
 And Avrapt in my good gray mantle, 
 I ride tlirougli the wood alone. 
 
 And fast though I ride, my fancies, 
 More niml)le, ride on before, . 
 And bear me, light and air}^, 
 At once to my loved one's door. 
 
 The dogs they bark; and the servants 
 Bear torches that round me glare ; 
 And my spurs they clank and' clatter 
 
 As I storm the Minding stair. 
 
 In her Avarm and tutted clianiber, 
 That is briglit with the ta])er's blush, 
 There fair and fi'agrant Maits slie, 
 And iiitn lii-i- iiiiiis J lusli.
 
 HEINE'S LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 79 
 
 And the; winds in the bruwn luuves bluster, 
 And whispers the old oak tree : 
 " What wilt tliou, O foolish rider, 
 With thy foolish reverie?" 
 
 LV. 
 
 A STAR TO EARTH IS FALLING. 
 (S3 fdllt eiu Stern l)enuitev. 
 
 A STAR to earth is falling 
 From its shining home on high : 
 It is the love-star yonder 
 That quits the glittering sky. 
 
 The leaves and flowers are falling 
 From the hoary apple tree, 
 And the tricksy breezes drive them 
 Across the yellow lea. 
 
 A swan in the lake is singing 
 As he rows to and fro, 
 And oft he dips, as he •murmurs. 
 In his liquid grave below\
 
 80 IIEiyES LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 
 
 The iiii>'ht uruw s still ami darksuine : 
 Tlie blotjsonii; have bluwn away ; 
 The star has shimnieied to aslies; 
 The swan has ended liis lay. 
 
 LVL 
 
 THE DREAM-GOD BROUGHT ME TO A CASTLE VAST. 
 
 Xor Zvaimuiott ln-ad)t' mid) in ciit 'Jiiefcuid)(oi\^. 
 
 The dream-god brought me to a castle vast, 
 Where heavy perfumes breathed and lights were glowing 
 There endless billows of much people passed, 
 Tlirough winding lab}iiiitlis ol' cliaiiil)ers llowing; 
 Who sought to leave the pile, willi looks aghast. 
 And wrung their hands, and wept, as they were going. 
 I marked l)oth knights and maidens in (he throng, 
 And I m3-self was with it swept along. 
 
 And suddenlv I was alone, for lo, 
 The rest had in a moment all departed. 
 Then T wr)ul(l 'scape at once that i)lace of woe. 
 And tlirough tiie strangely-winding chambers started.
 
 IIEINES LlRlLAL INTERLUDE. 88 
 
 My Lasts seoiucd vain; the course 1 ditl not know, 
 And forward searclied, with leaden feet, faint-hearted. 
 At hist I found the door, and sought to flee ; 
 iiuL hea\ens ! what form stood there eonfronting nie I 
 
 It was my loved one that forbade my way; 
 With grief and care on brow and lip she saw me ; 
 And when lier liand made sign for me to stay, 
 I knew not whether 'twas to scorn or awe me. 
 Yet from her eyes there broke a gentle ray 
 That had strange power to stir and draw me. 
 And while her moveless gaze thus pierced me deep, 
 Severe, yet tender, it dispelled ray sleep. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 THE MIDNIGHT CAME; THE WINDS WERE STILL 
 
 !l)ie 9Jcittei-nacl)t luav hitt nub ftumm. 
 The midnight came ; the winds were still ; 
 And sad of heart I walked the forest chill : 
 And at my woe the slumbrous trees did waken, 
 And all their heads with grief were stirred and shaken.
 
 84 UEiy£-6 LYRICAL IMELLUDE. 
 
 LYIII. 
 
 AT THE CROSS-ROADS THEY BURIED.^ 
 :!lm ^leu^mec) aiivb (icc^val'cn. 
 At the cross-roads they buried 
 The wretched suicide ; 
 And there grew a blue flower, 
 The puur-siiJiier-flower. 
 
 At the cross-roads I stood sighing : 
 The niglit was chill and still; 
 And slowly in the moonlight moved 
 The poor-sinner-flower. 
 
 It is impossible adequately to translate these woiideif ul stanzas in metrical 
 form, and hence I have given a prosaic and almost literal rendering. The 
 poem was designed to suggest two views of suicide : one is brought before us 
 in the burial, according to raediseval law, at the cross-roads, afar from holy 
 ground, and where the grave was exposed to the contempt of men; by the 
 night-visit to this scene of horror; and by the chill and silence of the air; while 
 the other is presented in the poor-sinner-flower growing near the resting-place 
 of thf outcast, and moving in the moonlight as with compassion and liope.
 
 HEINE'S LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 85 
 
 LIX. 
 
 ROUND ME MIST AND MIDNIGHT DREARY. 
 ;ffio id) bin, mid) viiu]\5 unibuufclt. 
 
 KouND me mist and midniglit dreary 
 Dim the earth and veil the skies, 
 Since thou hast withdrawn the cheery 
 Lustre of thy loving eyes. 
 
 Naught can now, sweet stars, restore me 
 Your serene and holy light : 
 Gulfs of darkness yawn before me ; — 
 Take me, thou primeval night ! 
 
 LX. 
 
 NIGHT LAY UPON MINE EYELIDS. 
 9tarf)t (ail fiitf luctueu 'Jtuiicn. 
 Night lay upon mine eyelids. 
 And on my mouth was lead, 
 And in the grave I found me 
 Benumbed in heart and head.
 
 86 HEIMr6 LYRICAL lyTEULi'DE. 
 
 Ami it' lay t^leep had lasted 
 Long time, I could not tell, 
 When I was waked by some one 
 Who knocked upon my cell. 
 
 ••Wilt ihuu not rise, my Heinrich? 
 The Judgment Day is here; 
 The dead are all arisen . 
 Eternal joy is near." 
 
 I cannot rise, tluui dearest; 
 Mine eyes lire veiled iu night; 
 Mine e3'es lor very ^veeping 
 Have wholly lost their sight. 
 
 " But I will kiss them, Heinrich, 
 And then the night will flee, 
 And Heaven shall shine before thee, 
 And aiifrels thou shalt see." 
 
 'O* 
 
 I cannot rise, thou deai'est. 
 My heai't is bleeding so 
 Where thy sweet ]ij)S did stab it 
 "With one sharp word of woe.

 
 HEINE'S LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 89 
 
 " My liand so softly, HciiiricL, 
 Shall touch thy wounded hciut, 
 That it shall Ideed no longer, 
 Nor feel again the smart." 
 
 I cannot rise, thou dearest ; 
 My head is bleeding sore 
 Where once the bullet entered. 
 When thou wert mine no more. 
 
 " But with my tresses, Heinrich, 
 I know to bind thy head. 
 And staunch the flowing blood-stream 
 Where flew the cruel lead." 
 
 Thus sweet did she entreat me; 
 I could not say her nay; 
 I sought to struggle upward 
 And pass with her away. 
 
 Then all my wounds broke open, 
 And straight a wilder stream 
 Burst forth from head and bosom; — 
 And lo ! it was a dream.
 
 90 Jl£jyE.S LYRICAL lyTERLCDE. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 THE OLD AND EVIL NUMBERS. 
 
 Xic altcu, luiji-u Vie&ev. 
 The old and evil numbers, 
 The dreams of grief and wrong, 
 C\)me nuw and lei us bury 
 In a coffin wide and long. 
 
 And tliey are far too many 
 To tell them every one. 
 And it must be much greater 
 Than the Heidelbergers' tun. 
 
 A mourning-bier beneath it 
 Of stoutest timbers fetch. 
 And further than the lonsr bridsre 
 Of Mayence it must stretch. 
 
 And call me here twelve giants 
 With limbs more brawny grown 
 Than Cliristopher's the holy, 
 Whose dust is in Coloerne.
 
 HEINE'S LYRICAL LMI-AiLC DE. 91 
 
 And these shall ttike and sink it 
 Beneath tlic; oeean wave; 
 For sueh a might}' coiilin 
 Must have a mighty grave. 
 
 And wuuldst thou know the reason 
 So vast it must be made ? 
 To hold my k)ve and sorrow 
 Toscether in it hiid.
 
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