Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2008 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/balladsgermanOOheinrich LYRICS AND BALLADS OF HEINE AND OTHER GERMAN POETS TRANSLATED BY FRANCES HELLMAN G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS NEW YORK LONDON 27 West Twenty-third Street 24 Bedford Street, Strand She liuicktrbockcr jgrcss 1892 Copyright, 1892, by FRANCES HELLMAN Entered at Stationers' Hall, London BY Frances Hellman Printed and Bound by -Cbe Tknicherbocfter press, mew Jgork G. P. Putnam's Sons TO MY MOTHER 428240 CONTENTS HEINE PAGE Prologue Vorrede 3 DREAM PICTURES TRAUMBILDER In Nightly Dream Itn Ndchi^gen Trauvt 7 I Lay and Slept Most Peacefully Ich lag und schlief und schlief recht mild 8 ,^ Many Pale Spectres Long Vanished Ich hay vieV blasse Leichen lo SONGS LIEDER At Morn I Rise and Query Mortens steh^ ich atif und /rage 13 To the Woods My Footsteps Turning Ich wandelte ttnter den Bdunien 14 Fairest Cradle of My Sorrow Schone Wiege meiner Leiden 15 First, I Felt Nigh to Despairing A n/angs ivolW ich fast verzagen 17 CONTENTS. ROMANCES ROMA NZ EN PAGE The Mourner Der Traurige 19 The Mountain-Voice Die BergstUnme 21 Poor Peter Der A rtne Peter 22 The Message Die Botschaft 24 SONNET SONETTE To My Mother A n tneine Mutter 25 LYRICAL INTERLUDE LYRISCHES INTERMEZZO 'T Was in the Glorious Month of May Im wunderschbnen Monat Mai. 27 Up from My Tears, Fair Flowers A us rneinen Thrdnen spriessen 28 The Rose and the Lily, the Sun and the Dove Die Rose., die Liliey die Taube., die Sonne 29 When. I Can Gaze into Thine Eyes Wenn ich in deine A ugen seh^ 30 Thy Visage Beautiful and Kind Dein A ngesicht so lieb und schon 31 Oh ! Lean Thy Cheek against My Cheek Lehn* deine Wang^ an nzeine IVang^ 32 CONTENTS. PAGE The Stars Have Stood for Ages Es stehen unbeweglich 33 On the Wings of Song I '11 Carry A uf FlUgeln des Gesanges 34 To Steep My Very Spirit Ich will meine Seele taucken 3^ The Lotus Flower Stands Trembling Die Lotusbluine dngstigt 37 Oh! Do Not Swear, but Kiss Me, Dear O schwore nicht und kiisse nur 3^ I Nurse No Wrath, and Though My Heart be Crushed Ich grolle nickt, und wenn das Herz auch bricht^ 39 And Could the Little Flowers Know Und wiissten^s die BlumeUy die Kleinen 41 Why Do the Roses Look So Pale? War tint sind dcnn die Rosen so blass ? 42 So Many Tales They Bore Thee Sie haben Dir viel erzdhlet 43 The Linden Blossomed, the Nightingale Sung Die Linde blUhte^ die Nachtigall sang. 44 Because So Long, So Long I Stayed Und als ich so lange^ so lange gesdutnt 45 A Pine-Tree Standeth Lonely Ein Fichtenbaum steht einsani 46 The Head Speaks Der Kopf spricht 47 The Heart Speaks Das Herz spricht 47 CONTENTS. PAGE The Song Speaks Das Lied spricht 47 Up from the Tomb Rise Pictures Manch Bild vergess' ner Zeiten 48 A Youth Once Loved a Maiden Ein Yiingling liebt ein Made hen 50 Whene'er I Hear the Little Song Hdr* ich das Liedchen klingen 51 A Princess Came in Dreams to Me Mir trdunite von eineni Konigskind. 52 Thou 'st Ever Had and Hast My Heart Ich hah' dich geliebet und Hebe dich noch 53 On a Radiant Summer-Morning A tn leuchtenden Sommermorgen 54 My Love Shines Out in Its Glory Es leuchtet tneine Liebe 55 They Caused Me Greatest Torture Sie haben tnich gequdlet 56 There Lies the Warmth of Summer Es liegt der heisse Sommer 57 I Don't Believe in the Heaven Ich glauh nicht an den HimmeL 58 When Two Take Leave of Each Other Wenn zwei von einander scheiden 59 I Wept Whilst I Was Dreaming Ich hah* iin Trauin' geiveinet 60 At Night in Dreams I See Thee, When Allnachtlich im Traume seli' ich dich 61 CONTEXTS PAGB The Autumn-Wind Rattles the Branches Der Herbstivind rilttelt die Bdume 62 A Star Comes Downward Falling Es /dllt ein Stern herunter 64 Night Brooded on Mine Eyelids Nacht lag au/ meinen A ugen 65 The Old Unhappy Ditties Die altetiy bosen Lieder 68 THE HOMEWARD JOURNEY DIE HEIMKEHR I Know Not What Has Come O'er Me Ich weiss nickt ivas soil es bedeuten 71 My Heart, My Heart Is Mournful Mein Herz^ me in Herz ist traurig. 73 Thou Lovely Fishermaiden Du schones Fischermddchen 75 The Evening Shades Draw Slowly Nigh Der A bend konttnt gezogen 76 Far Out in Radiance O'er the Sea Das Meer ergldnzte zveit kinaiis 78 Upon the Far Horizon A nt fernen Horizonte 79 I Stood in Gloomy Dreaming Ich stand in dunkeln Trdumen 80 They Think that I Am Pining Man glaubt dass ich mich grdme 81 CONTENTS. i'AGE They Loved Each Other, but Neither Sie liebten sick beide^ dock keiner 82 My Heart Is Sad and I Am Driven Das Herz ist vtir bedriickt und sehnlich 83 Do Not Lose All Patience with Me Werdet nur nicht ungeduldig^ 84 Heart, Despair Not, I Implore It HerZy ■mein Herz^ set nicht bekloynmen 85 Like to a Flower, Lovely Du bist ivie eine Blume 86 Child, It Would Be Thine Undoing Kind^ es zudre dein Verderben 87 Oh ! That the Stream of My Sorrows Ick wollt'' meine Schmerzen ergiissen 88 In the Post-Chaise Dark We Journeyed IVir fuhren allein itn dunkeln Postwagen die game Nacht 89 The Pilgrimage to Kevlaar Die Wallfahrt nach Kevlaar 90 THE HARTZ JOURNEY DIE HARZREISE On the Mountain Stands the Cottage A uf dem Berge steht die Hiitte 95 The Shepherd Boy 's a Very King Konig ist der Hirtenknabe 98 I Am the Princess Use Ich bin die Prinzessin Use 100 CONTENTS. NORTHSEA CYCLE NORDSEE CYCLUS PAGE Epilogue Epilog 103 NEW SPRING NEVER FRUHLING The Slender Water-Lily. Die schlanke Wasserlilie 105 The Rose Is Fragrant— but Whether She Feeleth Die Rose du/iet — dock ob sie entpjindet 106 Because I Love Thee, I Must Leave Thee Weil ich dich liebe tnuss ich fliehen 107 Gentle Chimes with Sweetest Ring ^^ Leise zieht durch viein Gentuth 108 There Was an Aged Monarch Es war ein alter Koni^. 109 MISCELLANEOUS VERSCHIEDENE S^RAPHINB When I Through the Dreamy Forest Wandl ' ich in dein Wald* des A bends 1 1 1 On the Silent Shores of Ocean A n detn stillen Meeresstrande 112 I See a White Mew Yonder Das ist eine lueisse Mowe 113 CONTENTS. PAGE I Knew that Thou Dost Love Me Das du mich liebst^ das wussi^ ich 114 How Wond'ringly the Sea-Mew Wie neubegierig die Mowe 115 She Fled from Me Like a Timid Doe Sie Jloh vor inir wie '« Rek so scheu 116 Shadowy Love and Shadowy Kisses SchattcnkUsse — Schattenliebe 118 The Damsel Stood by the Ocean Das Frdulein stand avt Meere 119 My Ship, with Black Sails, Sails Along Mit schivarzen Segeln segelt inein Schiff. 120 How Shamefully Thou 'st Acted Wie schdndlick du geha?idelt 121 The Roaring Waves ^^ £s Ziehen die brausenden Wellen 122 The Runic Stone Juts Out from the Beach \c! Es ragt in s Meer der Runenstein 123 The Sea Gleams Forth Beneath the Sun Das Meer erstrahlt iin Sonnenschein 124 Ang6lique On Both Her Eyes My Hand I Pressed Ich halte ihr die A ugen zu 125 Katharine Long Was I Songless and Dejected Gesanglos war ich und beklomtnen 126 CONTENTS. POEMS OF THE TIMES ZEITGEDICHTE PAGE Night Thoughts Nachtgedanken 129 Germany Deutschland 132 NEW SONGS NEUE LIEDER A Woman Ein Weib 137 Spring's Festival Friihlingsfeier 139 What I Have, Ask Not, My Darling Frag' nichiy Liebchen^ was ich habe 140 The Lesson Die Lehre 141 GOETHE POEMS GEDICHTE The Wand'rer's Night Song Des WandWer's NachtUed 145 Ocean Calm Meeresstille 146 Happy Voyage Gliickliche Fahrt 147 CONTENTS. PAGE Swiss Song Schweizerlied. , The Angler Der Fischer . . 150 Vanitas Vanitatum 152 GEIBEL POEMS GEDICHTE O Therefore Is the Spring So Bright O darutn ist der Lenz so schon 157 The Poor Good-for-Nothing Der arme Taugenichts 159 In April Im April 161 O Still This Ardent Yearning O stille dies Verlangen 162 Gondoliera Gondoliera 164 Let No One Ask Me Ever Wolle keiner mich fragen 166 Girlhood's Songs Mddchenlieder 168 Answer A ntzvort 170 As It Will Happen Wie es geht 172 CONTENTS. PAGE See'st Thou the Sea Siek'st du das Meer ? 174 Separation, Desolation Scheiden^ Leiden 175 Onward Vorivdrts 177 Hope Hoffnung. 179 SONGS LIEDER Let the Songs I 'm Singing Golden Bridges Be Goldne Br tic ken seien alle Lieder mir 181 The Silent Water-Lily. Die stille Wasserrose 182 A Crown of Cornflow'rs Let Me Wreathe Kornblutnen flechf ich dir zum Kranz 183 Within a Rosebush Love Once Sat Die Liebe sass ah Nachtigall 1 84 Once Bowed with Grief and Sore Distress'd Wohl lag ich einst in Grant und Schtnerz 186 At Last the Daylight Fadeth Nun ist der Tag geschieden 187 When Evening's Dying Flames Sink Yonder Wenn still ntit seinen letzten Flantnten 188 Thou Askest Me My Gold-Haired Pet Du fragst michy du^ tnein blondes Lieb 189 A JRiousand Kisses, Ere We Part t Viel Tausendy Tausend Kusse gieb 191 CONTENTS. I'AGE The Time of Roses Now Has Fled Voruber ist die Rosenzeit 193 Now May Is upon Us Der Mai ist gekofumen 194 The Lilies Glow Forth Sweetly Die Lilien gliihn in Die/ten 196 As in the Sky Appears the Sun Die Sonn' hebt ayt vom Wolkenzclt 197 Oh, Hurry my Steed O schneller inein Ross 199 I Cannot Fathom Why Ich weiss nicht wie *s geschieht 201 NEW SONNETS NEUE SONNETTEN Whene'er Two Hearts Must Sever Wenn zich zwei Herzen scheiden 203 Oh ! Touch It Not 1 O riihret nicht damn 205 UHLAND The Minstrel's Curse Des Sanger's Finch 209 King Karl on the Sea Konig KarVs Meer/ahrt 215 Young Roland Kiein Roland 218 CONTENTS. PAGE FREILIGRATH Oh ! Love as Long as Thou Canst Love ! O lieb so lang du lleben kannst 227 Rest in the Beloved Ruhe in der Geliebten 230 In the Woods Int Walde 232 RUCKERT I Love Thee, for 't is Thee, Dear, I Must Love Ich Hebe dich iveil ich dich lieben muss 237 The Nightingale Die Nachtigall 238 MOERICKE An Hour Ere Break of Day Eitt Stiindlein 7vohl vor Tag 243 CHAMISSO Woman's Love and Life Frauenliebe und Leben. HEINE. prologue, VORREDE, TPHIS is the fairy-wood of old ! Sweet linden-buds are blowing ! The wondrous moonlight o'er my soul A magic spell is throwing. I walked along, and as I walked Soft strains on high were ringing. It is the nightingale ! Of love And love's great woe she *s singing. She sings of love and love's great woe, Of laughter and of weeping ; So sad is her rapture, so glad is her sob, Dreams wake, that long were sleeping. I walked alon^, and as I walked In a clearing rose before me A palace vast, whose gables seemed To soar toward heaven, o'er me. , PROLOGUE. Closed were the windows ; all appeared By silence and grief o'ertaken, As tho' still death its home had made Within those walls forsaken. Before the gate there lay a sphinx, Both horror and lust inviting ; A woman's head and breast, to paws And trunk of lion uniting. A glorious woman ! Her marble glance Spoke yearnings wild and tender, Her arching lips said not a word, But smiled a mute surrender. So sweetly sang the nightingale, I yielded to her wooing ; And as I kissed that lovely face I sealed my own undoing. The marble image warmed to life. The stone with moans resounded ; She drank my kisses* ardent fire With thirst and greed unbounded. HEINE. She almost drained my breath — until Voluptuously bending, She clasped me tight, her lion's claws My hapless body rending. Delicious torture ! Rapturous woe ! Infinite anguish and blessing ! Her claws inflict most fearful wounds, While her kiss on my mouth she is pressing ! The nightingale sang : "Oh, beautiful sphinx ! Oh, love ! why is 't intended That with the agony of death Thy bliss should all be blended ? " Oh, lovely sphinx ! oh, solve for me The riddle strange past telling ! For many thousand years my thoughts Upon it have been dwelling." Dream pictures* TRAUMBJLDER, IM NACHTGEN TRAUM\ TN nightly dream I once myself did see, Black coat, silk vest, and every preparation, Down to the cuffs — as for some celebration. My lovely darling then confronted me. I bowed and said : " May you the fair bride be ? Why then, my dear, take my congratulation ! " But oh ! those words nigh caused my strangulation. They fell so stiff, so cold, so haughtily Upon mine ear. And bitter tears came streaming Out from my darling's eyes. And that flood's power Swept far from me the vision brightly gleaming. Oh ! tender eyes, love's stars that glow so kindly, What the' in dreams and many a waking hour You oft deceived me ? Yet I trust you blindly ! DREAM PICTURES. IT Xa^ anD Slept /IRoet ipeacetulli^* ICH LAG UND SCHLIEF UND SCHLIEF RECHT MILD. T LAY and slept most peacefully, Gone was all strife and care ; A vision then appeared to me, The maid of all most fair. Like unto marble she was white, And weirdly lovely she ; Her eyes gleamed with a pearly light. Her hair waved wondrously. And softly, softly then comes on That maiden marble white. And then close to my heart lies down That maiden marble white. How starts and throbs my burning heart With pain and ecstasy ! The fair one's does not throb nor start, — Ice could not colder be. '* My heart nor throbs, nor starts, 't is true, Ice could not colder be. But I have felt love's rapture too And love's great mastery. *' On cheeks and lips there gleams no red. No warm blood flows thro* me, — But do not shrink away in dread, For I am fond of thee." More fierce grew her caress, — until She clasped me all too tight. The cock crowed loud, — then vanished, still, That maiden marble white. DREAM PICTURES. ^ang ipale Spectres %ox[Q IDantebeD* ICH HA ff VI EV BLA SSE LEICHEN. jVyi ANY pale spectres, long vanished, I evoked by a word's n^agic might ; And now they will not be banished Again to their former night. The master's words, all-compelling, I forgot in my dread and dismay ; And now to their shadowy dwelling My own ghosts would lead me away. Dark demons, cease your persistence ! Begone, and press not so close ! For many a joy of existence May yet bloom in the light of the rose. Oh ! could I once only press her Quite close to my glowing breast, On cheeks and on lips caress her. With kisses of anguish most blest I HEINE. Oh ! could I but once hear her saying A single word, loving and low, — Then, spirits, without more delaying With you to your dark home I 'd go ! The spirits one and all hear me, And nod appallingly. My darling, now I am near thee ; — My darling, lov'st thou me ? Songs* LIEDER, Bt /ftorn H •Rise anD (aueri^. MORGENS STEW ICH AUF UND FRAGE. A T morn I rise and query : '* Will sweetheart come to-day?" At night I sink down weary : ** Again she *s stayed away." All night, alone with my sorrow A sleepless watch I keep ; I wander about on the morrow As though I were half asleep. SONGS. XLo tbe TKHoo^e m^ ff ootetepe n:urnin0. ICH WANDELTE UNTER DEN BAUMEN. 'T'O the woods my footsteps turning, I strolled with my grief, apart ; And then the old dream's yearning Crept back into my heart. That little word, — who did bring it ? Say, birdies, that heavenward soar ! —Oh, hush ! for my heart, when you sing it, Aches twice as much as before. ** A maiden who passed here, has taught it : She sang it, and we heard ; And so, we birdies have caught it, That lovely, golden word." Nevermore such a tale be revealing, Oh ! cunning songsters, ye ! My sorrow you fain would be stealing, But none can my confidant be. HEINE. X5 ffalreet CraDle of ^12 Sorrow, SCHONE WIEGE MEINER LEIDEN, U AIREST cradle of my sorrow, Fairest grave of peace to me, Fairest town, ere dawns the morrow We must part, — farewell to thee. Fare thee well, O threshold lowly, Where my darling's footsteps rest, Fare thee well, O spot most holy. Where she first my vision blest. Had I but beheld thee never, Thou, my heart's belovM queen, Then it had not happened ever That so wretched I had been. For thy heart I have not striven. Nor to gain thy love have tried ; All my longing was to live in Quiet, where thou dost abide. i6 SONGS. But I leave at thy own urging ; From thy lips harsh sayings pour ; Madness in my breast is surging, And my heart is sick and sore. With my staff I drag on, dreary, Limbs that weaken day by day Till I lay my head, a-weary. In a cool grave, far away. HEINE. fflret H ffelt IFlfgb to Deepatrin^* AN FANGS WOLLT ICH FAST VERZAGEN. piRST, I felt nigh to despairing, — i Thought I could not bear my lot ; Yet my lot I have been bearing, Only how, — pray ask me not ! IRomanoes* ROMANZEN, tTbe /ftourner. DER TRAURIGE. pVERY heart with woe is smitten When the sad youth they behold On whose face are plainly written Pain and sorrows manifold. Breezes soft, with pity laden, Gently fan his fevered brow ; Many erst so coy a maiden Longs, with smiles, to soothe him now. From the city's noisy bustle To the woods he hies away ; There the tree-tops gaily rustle. And the birds sing carols gay. 19 ROMANCES. But the song soon dies out wholly, Tree and leaf both sadly sway, As the mournful youth, now slowly, Near the forest wends his way. HEINE. XTbe /Rountain*\Dotce. DIE BERGSTIMME. A CROSS the vale, in slow, sad pace, There rides a trooper brave ; " Oh ! go I now to sweetheart's arms, Or to a gloomy grave ? " The mountain answer gave : " A gloomy grave." And onward still the horseman rides. And sighs with heaving breast ; " So soon I go then to my grave, Ah well, the grave brings rest." The mountain-voice confessed : " The grave brings rest." And then, down from the horseman's cheek A woeful tear-drop fell ; ** And if the grave alone brings rest, All will, in the grave, be well." The voice — with hollow knell : ** In the grave be well." ROMANCES. poor ipetet^ DER ARME PETER. A S Hans and Crete join in dance And shout in wildest glee, So sad and silent Peter stands — As white as chalk is he. Now, bride and groom are Gret' and Hans All decked in wedding-gilt ; A' biting his nails poor Peter stands, And wears his workman's kilt. To himself, in secret, Peter said, And sadly gazed on the two : ** Oh ! had I not so wise a head. Some harm to myself I 'd do ! " For in my heart there 's such great woe. It fain would burst my breast ; Where'er I stand, where'er I go, It never lets me rest. HEINE. 23 * It drives me to my Crete sweet As if she 'd cure my pain ; But when my eyes her glances meet, It drives me forth again. " I climb up to the mountain-top ; — Alone one there can be, — And there, quite silently, I stop, And weep, quite silently." Poor Peter staggers slowly' by So deathly pale, and wan, and shy ; And all the people whom he meets, Stand still, to watch him, in the streets. The maidens whisper secretly : ** Out of the grave, no doubt, comes he." Oh, no, you little damsels fair, He 's just about to enter there ! As he has lost his own sweetheart. The grave 's the place to lie apart ; Where he may pass the years away And sleep until the judgment-day. ROMANCES. DIE BOTSCHAFT, T TP, up, my boy, and saddle quick, And fling thee on thy steed. And to King Duncan's castle ride Thro' woods and fields, with speed. Slip in his stable there, and wait Till by the groom espied ; Then question him : " Say which one is Of Duncan's daughters bride ? " If says the boy : " The brown one 't is." Then quickly let me know ; But if he says : " The blonde one 't is," Thou need'st not hurry so. To Master Twinester then go out. Buy me a rope there, and — Ride slowly back, say not a word. But lay that in my hand. Sonnets SONET TE, Zo /IR^ jiftotbec AN MEINE MUTTER, T HAVE been wont my head to carry high, My will has been my law in every thing ; If opposite to me there stood a king I would not timidly avert mine eye. But, Mother dear, I *11 tell thee openly : However haughtily my soul may swell. When in thy presence sweet and dear I dwell, A trembling diffidence comes over me. Am I subdued by thy great spirit's might, Thy pure, keen soul that fathoms all aright, And, flashing forth, soars up to heaven's light ? Do recollections rise to torture me. The many deeds with which I grievously 25 SONNET. Thy dear heart pained, that loved me tenderly ? In frenzy wild I once deserted thee ; The wish to know the whole world filled my mind ; I longed to see if love I there could find, — That love I might encompass lovingly ! I sought love in all streets ; at every gate, In suppliance outstretched, I held my palms, And begged for just a little of love's alms, — But all they gave me, laughing, was cold hate ! Yet still I sought for love ; again My endless search resumed. But all in vain. Then homeward turned I, sick, with troubled thought. But there, to bid me welcome, thou wert nigh. And lo ! what I saw shining in thine eye. That was the sweet love I so long had sought ! Xptical ITnterlu&e* L YRISCHES INTERMEZZO. 'Z TIBlag in tbe (Blotioue ^ontb of ltz.% IM WUNDERSCHONEN MONA T MAI, ''T* WAS in the glorious month of May When all the buds were blowing, I first felt in my bosom Love's tender fire glowing. 'T was in the glorious month of May When all the birds were singing, The yearning deep I told her That in my heart was ringing ! 27 28 LYRICAL INTERLUDE. •Qlp ffrom /IB12 ^eare, ffair fflowere* y4 US MEINEN THRANEN SPRIESSEN. I TP from my tears, fair flowers, Innumerable, rise ; The nightingales* sweet chorus Re-echoes in my sighs. And if thou lov'st me, darling, All the flowers to thee I '11 bring And then beneath thy window The nightingales shall sing. HEINE. ^be "Roee anD tbe Xil^, tbe Sun anO tbe Z>/^ i?(96"^, Z?/^ Z/Z/^, DIE TA UBE, DIE SONNE. T^HE rose and the lily, the sun and the dove, I loved them all once with a rapturous love. I love them no more, I love her alone. The rarest, the fairest, the dearest, the one ; She herself is the fountain whence all rapture flows, She 's the lily, the dove, the sun, and the rose. LYRICAL INTERLUDE. TKaben 1[ Can (5a3e Into ZY^inc iB^ce. WENN ICH IN DEINE A UGEN SEH\ ' "\X7HEN I can gaze into thine eyes, All pain, all sorrow from me flies ; But when my lips thy kisses meet, Then is, indeed, my cure complete ! When I can lean against thy breast. With heav'nly calm my soul is blest ; But when thou sayest : " I love thee," Then must I weep most bitterly. HEINE. Z\ro iDiea^e ^Beautiful anD IklnO* DEIN ANGESICHT SO LIEB UND SCHON. 'T'HY visage, beautiful and kind, Appeared, in dreams, before my mind ; With angel's softest light it shone, And yet so pale, so woe-begone. Thy lips alone were rosy bright ; But soon cold Death will kiss them white, And from thine eyes, the heav'nly ray That gently beams, will fade away. LYRICAL INTERLUDE. ©b ! Xean Zh^ Cbeeft B^alnst IS^'q Cbeeft, LEHN' DEINE WANG AN MEINE WANG\ r\^ ! lean thy cheek against my cheek, Together our tears will flow then ; Thy heart press close against my heart, Together our flames will glow then. And when the great stream of our tears Flows into the mighty fire, And when I clasp thee in strong embrace. With yearning love I '11 expire ! HEINE. 33 tTbe Stare Ijave StooD tor Bges^ ^6" STEM EN UNBEIVEGLICH, 'T'HE stars have stood for ages Immovably above ; And gazed upon each other With yearning, woeful love. They speak a certain language, So beautiful, so fine. That none of all the masters Its meaning can divine. But I have learnt that language, Which naught from my mind can erase ; The grammar in which I studied. Was my lovely sweetheart's face. LYRICAL INTERLUDE. ©n tbe llCltngs ot SciXiQ IT ai Carn^^ AUF FLUGELN DES GESANGES. r\^ the wings of song I '11 carry Thee, darling, off with me ; On the Ganges' shores we '11 tarry, No spot can lovelier be. A garden with rose-red bowers. In the moonlight calm lies there ; And there the lotus-flowers Await their sister fair. The violets titter, caressing, And gaze at the stars, on high ; And fairy-tales are confessing The roses, whispering shy. To hearken, then come leaping The gentle, wise gazelles ; The sacred river's sweeping Far out, in the distance, swells. HEINE. And there we *11 sink down lowly Beneath the great palm-tree ; Drink love and peace most holy In dreams of ecstasy. 36 LYRICAL INTERLUDE. ^0 steep /Ifti5 Ders Spirit ICH WILL MEINE SEELE TA UCHEN. 'T'O steep my very spirit In a lily's heart, I long ; That softly I may hear it Exhale my darling's song. The song must tremble and quiver, Alike unto that kiss, Of vi^hich she was the giver In an hour of wondrous bliss. HEINE. 37 ^be Xotue ffloWr Stance tTrembltng. DIE LOTUSBLUME ANGSTIGT. 'T'HE lotus flow'r stands trembling Beneath the sun's fierce light, With head low bent, and dreaming, She waits the coming night. The moon, who is her lover, Awakes her with his rays ; To him she gladly unveileth Her gentle, flower-face. She blooms, and glows and glistens, And mutely stares above ; She weeps, exhales and trembles. With the bliss and woes of love. 38 LYRICAL INTERLUDE. ) ! Do flot Swear, but 1Ri66 /IRe, Bean O SCHWORE NICHT UND KUSSE NUR. r\ H ! do not swear, but kiss me, dear, All women's oaths are false, I fear ; Thy words are sweet, but far more sweet The kiss in which our lips did meet ; That kiss is mine, in it trust I, But words, like mist, float idly by. Oh ! swear on, dear, eternally ! Thy simple word suffices me. I sink upon thy bosom fair And deem that I am blessed there, And that, through all eternity. And longer still, thou 'It love but me ! HEINE. •ff nautse Bo Tldratb, an& ^bougb /Dbs Ibeart be CruebeD. ICH GROLLE NICHT, UND WENN DA S HERZ A UCH BRIGHT. T NURSE no wrath, and though my heart be crushed, Oh ! love forever lost, my wrath is hushed ! Though thy fair form be decked with jewels bright, No single ray illumes thy spirit's night. I *ve known this long. For in my sleep I saw thee, and thy bosom's gloomy deep. And saw the viper gnawing at thy heart. And saw how wretched, oh ! my love, thou art. II. Yes, thou art wretched, and I '11 not complain. My love, we both must ever wretched be ; Till death has rent our two poor hearts in twain, My love, we both must ever wretched be. LYRICAL INTERLUDE, I see the scoff that on thy proud lip dwells, T see thy glance flare out disdainfully, I see how haughtily thy bosom swells — Yet thou art wretched, wretched just like me. Thy quivering mouth a secret pain reveals, Through unshed tears thine eye can scarcely see ; Thy haughty breast a hidden wound conceals, — My love, we both must ever wretched be. HEINE. BnD CoulO tbc Xlttle fflowers Iknow. UND WUSSTEN'S DIE BLUM EN, DIE KLEIN EN. AND could the little flowers know How pierced my heart with grief, I 'm sure their tears with mine would flow - To bring my pain relief. And if the nightingales but knew How sick I am, and sad, They, lustily, would sound anew Their carols bright and glad. And if the golden stars, on high, My sorrow could but guess, They would come down out of the sky To comfort my distress. Not one of these can know my pain, One only knows its smart ; For she herself has rent in twain, Has rent in twain my heart ! LYRICAL INTERLUDE. imibs 5>o tbe 1R06e6 Xoolft So pale? IV A RUM SIND DENN DIE ROSEN SO BLASS ? \X7HY do the roses look so pale, Oh ! darling, tell me why ? The violets blue, in yon green vale, Why are they mute and shy ? Why chants the lark in plaintive wise, As it soars aloft on its way ? From balsam-herbs why does there rise A scent of death's decay ? Why does the sun on meads display Such cold and frowning gloom ? And wherefore is the earth so gray And dreary as the tomb ? Why am e'en I, so sick, so weak. My lovely love, oh ! say ? Oh ! speak, my best beloved, speak, Why hast thou gone away ? HEINE. So /Bbani^ XTalee n:bei2 JBore trbee. ^/^ HA BEN DIR VI EL ERZAHLET. CO many tales they bore thee, And oft of me complained, But never set before thee What most my heart has pained. They made much ado, and sadly They shook their heads as grieved ; They spoke of me so badly, — And thou hast all believed. But what was the very saddest. Not one of them has guessed ; The saddest and the maddest Lies hidden in my breast. LYRICAL INTERLUDE. Z\>c XlnDen JSloeeomeD, tbe IFUgbttngale DIE LINDE BLUHTE, DIE NACHTIGALL SANG. 'THE linden blossomed, the nightingale sung, The sun laughed forth with joyful face ; You kissed me then, and your arms 'round me flung As you pressed me close in fond embrace. The leaves all fell with the raven's cry, The sun frowned down in dismallest plight ; We then bade each other an icy good-by, And politely you curtsied a bow most polite. HEINE. ^Because So Xong, So Xong If Staije^. UND ALS ICH SO LANGE, SO LANGE GESAUMT. DECAUSE so long, so long I stayed In foreign lands, and dreamed and played, My sweetheart's patience all gave way ; She sewed a gown for her wedding-day, And clasped to her arms in wedlock's joys The most stupid of all the stupid boys. So fair my love is, and so kind, Her vision sweet lives in my mind ; The violet eyes, the red cheeks dear, They glow and bloom year after year ; That I left such a darling verily is The most stupid of all my stupidities. 46 LYRICAL INTERLUDE. B ipine^atee StanDetb Xonel^^ EIN FICHTENBAUM STENT E INS AM. A PINE-TREE standeth lonely In the north, on a barren height ; It slumbers, in snow and ice clad, As in a mantle white. It dreameth of a palm-tree That, silent and alone. In distant Orient mourneth. On a burning ridge of stone. HEINE. DER KOPF SPRICHT. /^OULD I the little footstool be Which holds my love's feet twain, If e'er so hard she stamped on me, Indeed, I 'd not complain. (Tbe Ibeart Speaka. DAS HERZ SPRICHT. r\^ \ could I but the cushion be Through which her needles go, If e'er so hard she then pierced me. The pain would please me so. ^be Song Speake. DAS LIED SPRICHT, r\ H ! were the scrap of paper I With which her curls she wreathes, I 'd whisper to her, on the sly, What in me lives and breathes. 48 LYRICAL INTERLUDE. Tap from tbe n:omb IRtee iptctureg^ MANCH BILD VERGESS'NER ZEITEN. T IP from the tomb rise pictures Of the long-forgotten past, To me my life recalling When near thine it was cast. All day I wandered, dreaming, Ever from street to street ; The people stood and marvelled One so mute and sad to meet. At night things seemed much better, For then the streets were bare ; And I and my shadow, we wander'd Together in silence there. With footsteps that re-echoed I crossed the bridge straightway. And the moon came out to send me A grave, but friendly, ray. HEINE. 49 At thy house, at length, I halted. And lifted my gaze on high ; And fastened it on thy window, — To breaking my heart was nigh ! I know that from thy casement Thou 'st look'd down many a night, Seeing me stand like a pillar In the rays of the pale moonlight. so LYRICAL INTERLUDE. B foutb ©nee %ovc^ a /HbalDen* EIN YUNGLING LIEBT EIN MADCHEN. A YOUTH once loved a maiden Who did another prefer ; That other loved still another And plighted his troth to her. The maiden married in anger, The very first man who bore Straight down upon her pathway ; The youth was smitten sore. It is an old, old story, And yet, 't is ever new ; And the heart that, by chance, it striketh. Is broken right in two. HEINE. Mbene'er ir 1bear tbe Xtttle Song^ HOR' ICH DAS LIEDCHEN KLINGEN. \A/'HENE'ER I hear the little song That once my sweetheart sang, It seems as if my heart must break, So bitter is its pang. A nameless longing drives me forth, — To the woodland heights I go ; And there, in bitter tears, dissolves My overwhelming woe. LYRICAL INTERLUDE. % pdncees Came In Dreams to ^e, MIR TRAUMTE VON EINEM KONIGS-KIND, A PRINCESS came in dreams to me With wet and pallid face ; We sat beneath the linden-tree Close-clasped in love's embrace. " I do not want thy father's throne, Nor his golden sceptre rare, His diamond crown I would not own, But thy sweet self, so fair." " That may not be," said she to me, ' ' For I lie in my grave below. At night alone I come to thee Because I love thee so." HEINE. n:bou 'at JSver 1baJ) anD Ibaet jflR^ "fceart /C7/ HAB' DICH GEL IE BET UND LIE BE DICH NOCH, 'T'HOU 'ST ever had and hast my heart ; Were the world one funeral pyre, Out of its very wreck would dart My love's consuming fire. And after I have loved but thee , Until my hour of doom, I *11 take my great love-wound with me, To the eternal tomb. 54 LYRICAL INTERLUDE. ©n a IRaDtant Summer^/IRotnlng, AM LEUCHTENDEN SOMMERMORGEN. r\^ a radiant summer-morning About the garden I stray ; The flowers talk and whisper — I have not a word to say. The flowers talk and whisper, With pity my face they scan ; •* Oh ! be not wroth with our sister, Thou sad and pallid man ! " HEINE. 55 /Ifts OLove Sbtnea ©at In IFta (Blotg, ES LEUCHTET MEINE LIEBE. IWl Y love shines out in its glory O'ercast by a darkened light, Like a mournful fairy story That is told on a summer's night. '* In a magic garden two lovers Walk alone, and say not a word ; The moonlight over them hovers And the nightingales are heard. ** The maid stands with unmoved glances. At her feet the Knight she sees ; Then the Desert Giant advances. And the frightened maiden flees. " On the ground the Knight falls, dying ; The giant stalks back to his home " — When I in my grave am lying The end of that tale will have come. 56 LYRICAL INTERLUDE. Zhc^Q Cauee^ IXsc (Bteateet ZTotture^ SIE HA BEN MICH GEQUALET. 'T'HEY caused me greatest torture Till I nearly cursed my fate, Some of them with their loving, And others with their hate. My very drink they poisoned, They poisoned the bread I ate, Some of them with their loving. And others with their hate. But she who, beyond all others. Pained, grieved and tortured me, — By her I ne'er was hated Nor ever loved she me. HEINE. ^bete Xtes tbe TKIlarmtb ot Summer* ES LIEGT DER HEISSE SOMMER, 'T'HERE lies the warmth of summer Upon thy little face ; In thy little heart cold winter Has found its resting-place. Some day all this will alter Oh, dear beloved mine ! On thy cheeks will lie the winter, In thy heart will summer shine. 58 LYRICAL INTERLUDE. f 2)on't :(i8eltcve \\i tbe Ibeaven, /C// GLA UB' NICHT AN DEN HIMMEL, I DON'T believe in the heaven Of w^hich the dominies speak, I believe but in thy glances, They hold the heaven I seek. I don't believe in the Godhead Which priestly words imply, I believe but in thy heart, love, No other God have I. I don't believe in the devil. In hell, or its fiery smart ; I believe but in thy glances. And in thy wicked heart. 59 Wihcn ^wo (Take %cnvc of ;i£acb ©tber. WENN ZWEI VON EINANDER SCHEIDEN. "XA/HEN two take leave of each other, Each presses the other's hand, And then they fall to weeping. And sighing without end. We did not shed a tear-drop, We did not sigh or moan, — The weeping and the sighing Came when we were alone. 6o LYRICAL INTERLUDE. 1F mept Wbilet ir TKIlas Breaming* /CV/ HAB' IM TRAUM' GE WEI NET. T WEPT whilst I was dreaming— I dreamt they 'd laid thee low ; I woke, — and still the tear-drop Adown my cheek did flow. I wept whilst I was dreaming, — I dreamt thou 'dst gone from me ; I woke, — and still I wept on A long time, bitterly. I wept whilst I was dreaming, — I dreamt thou still lov'dst me ; I woke, — and yet my tear-flow Streams on unceasingly. HEINE. Bt IFltQbt In Dreame IT See tlbee, TRabem ALLNACHTLICH IM TRA UME SEIT ICH DICH. A T night in dreams I see thee, when So kindly thou dost greet ; And weeping loud I fling me then Down at thy dear, dear feet. Thy gaze is such a pitying one, Thy small blonde head shakes no, And slowly from thine eyes there run The pearly drops of woe. Thou giv'st me a bunch of cypress flow'rs. And a whispered word is heard ; — I wake ! Gone is the bunch of flow'rs And forgotten is the word ! LYRICAL INTERLUDE. n:be ButumnsMluD IRattlea tbe JSrancbea, DER HERBSTWIND RUTTELT DIE BAUME. HTHE autumn-wind rattles the branches, The night is cold and chill ; I ride, in my gray cloak folded, Through the woods alone and still. And as I ride, my fancies Are riding on before ; They waft me lightly onward, Up to my sweetheart's door. The dogs are barking, the servants Their lighted candles bring ; I rush up the winding staircase, My steel spurs rattle and ring. In the brightly-curtained chamber All is so fragrant and warm ; And there my love awaits me, — I fly into her arm. HEINE. 63 The wind wails low, and the oak-tree To speak these words doth seem ; ** What wilt thou, foolish horseman, With such a foolish dream ? " LYRICAL INTERLUDE. B Star Gomee DownwarD ffalltn^. ES FALLT EIN STERN HERUNTER. A STAR comes downward falling Out of its glittering height, It is the star of true love On which my eyes alight. Blossoms and leaves in plenty Fall from the apple-tree ; Then come the mischievous breezes And toss them playfully. On the pond the swan is singing, And paddling to and fro ; With dying voice he diveth To the watery grave below. All 's dark and still, and the blossoms And leaves are scattered like spray ; The star flew crackling to pieces, And the song has died away. HEINE. 65 IRlgbt JSroo&eD on /IRlne B^eUDa. NA CHT LAG AUF MEINEN A UGEN. lyi IGHT brooded on mine eyelids, Upon my mouth lay lead ; With head and heart grown rigid, In my grave I lay as dead. I do not well remember, How long I slept in gloom, I wakened up — and heard then A knocking at my tomb. ** Wilt not arise, O Henry, The judgment-day comes on, The dead are all arisen, Eternal joys begun." I can't arise, my darling. For I am blinded still By all the bitter tear-drops That once mine eyes did fill. LYRICAL INTERLUDE. *' But I will kiss thee, Henry, And drive night from thine eyes, That thou may'st see the angels And the light of Paradise." I can't arise, my darling. For still the blood flows free From my poor heart, once wounded By one sharp word from thee. ** My hand I '11 lay quite gently, Oh ! Henry, on thy heart ; Then will it cease its bleeding, And cured will be its smart." I can't arise, my darling, My head is bleeding too ; For when they stole thee from me, I shot it through and through. " With mine own tresses, Henry, I '11 stop the fountain red. With them, I '11 check the blood-stream, And heal thy wounded head." HEINE. The voice so soft, so sweet was, I could not answer no ; I tried forthwith to raise me, — To my love I fain would go. But oh ! all of a sudden, With a gush, the old wounds broke. From head and heart the blood streamed- And lo ! there I awoke ! 68 LYRICAL INTERLUDE. n:be ©ID IDinbapps Ditties^ DIE ALTEN, BOS EN LIEDER. TTHE old unhappy ditties, The dreams with bitter sting, All these now let us bury ; A mighty coffin bring. But what I shall lay in it, As yet, I '11 tell no one ; The coffin must be larger Than Heidelberg's great tun. And bring a death-bier with it, Of planks both thick and strong ; This bier must be still longer Than Mayence' bridge is long. And bring me then twelve giants Who greater strength have shown Than Christopher, the saintly, In the Minster of Cologne. HEINE. This coffin they must carry And sink beneath the wave ; For such a mighty coffin Must have a mighty grave. But know ye why this coffin So heavy and strong may be ? In it my love lies buried And all my misery. Ube 1bomew?ar5 Journep* DIE HEIMKEHR, 1F 1know IRot TDGlbat 1ba6 Come ©'et /ISe. /C// ^r^/^^" NICHT WAS SOLL ES BEDEUTEN. T KNOW not what has come o'er me That I am so sad to-day, An old tale rises before me, I cannot drive it away. It is cool, and the day declineth. And tranquil the Rhine flows on ; The crest of the mountain shineth In the glow of the evening sun. Up there, in glamour entrancing Sits a maiden, wondrous fair ; Her golden jewels are glancing, She combeth her golden hair. 71 THE HOMEWARD JOURKEW With golden comb her tresses Sie combs, &nd a laj sings she Tlttt bevildas and caresses Wltib n^ty mdodbf . Wild voe n UsbosoB. buBing Tlie jmfli, in bis boat, dbrifts by \ He sees not the »biil| MMil tanmi^. His gjBse is fastened onbiglL Mcfbinks Ae nvcs wifl bave swalknrod And Ibis, widi ber song anballofwed, Tbe Lofd^ badi done. HEINE. 73 As t)eart, As l)cart ts AourntuL Jff /AT ^^^Z, MEIN HERZ 1ST TRA URIC, lUI Y heart, my heart is monmfal. Yet laughs the bright May-sky ; I lean against the linden On the bastion old and high. And calmly there, beneath me. Glides by the blue town-moat ; A boy is rowing and angling And whistling in his boat. In bright and tiny medley Appear on yonder side The villas, and gardens, and people. Woods, oxen, and meadows wide. On the grass, to bleach their linen. The playful maidens come ; The mill-wheel scatters diamonds, I hear its distant ham. THE HOMEWARD JOURNEY. Against the gray old tower A sentry-box stands low, A scarlet-coated fellow Is pacing to and fro. He 's playing with his musket That in the sun gleams red ; Now he presents and shoulders- I wish he 'd shoot me dead. HEINE. XTbou Xovels fftebermal^en^ DU SCHONES FISCHERMADCHEN. 'T'HOU lovely fishermaiden. Come, drive thy skiff to land, Come, sit thee down beside me. We '11 whisper hand in hand. On my heart thy dear head pillow, Be not afraid of me ; Dost thou not fearless venture Each day on the stormy sea ? My heart is like the ocean, Has storm, and ebb and flow, And many a pearl most precious Lies in its depths below. 76 • THE HOMEWARD JOURNEY. XTbe JEventng SbaDea 2)raw Slowly l^iQb. DER ABEND KOMMT GEZOGEN. 'T'HE evening shades draw slowly nigh, Dense mists the ocean screen, Mysteriously the billows sigh, A white form then is seen. The sea-maid comes on wat'ry crest, On the shore, by me, sits down ; The surging of her snow-white breast Bursts through her gossamer gown. She clasps me tight and close doth press. To take my breath away ; — Oh, far too strong is thy caress, Thou lovely water-fay. ' ' My arms do press and clasp thee so. And tightly thee enfold. Because near thee I *d warmer grow. The night is far too cold." HEINE. Now pale and paler looks the moon Through veil'd clouds far away ; More dim and wet thine eye has grown Thou lovely water-fay. *' My eye nor wet nor dimmer grows, It is so dim and wet, Because when from the sea I rose A drop was left there yet." The gulls in shrill complaining start. The wild sea breaks in spray ; — So wild and quickly beats thy heart Thou lovely water-fay. '* In motion wild my heart I see, It beats so quick and wild, For I love thee inexpressibly Thou lovely human child ! " 78 THE HOMEWARD JOURNEY. ffar Out In IRaMance ©'er tbe Sea* DAS MEER ERGLANZTE WE IT HINA US. pAR out in radiance o'er the sea The parting sunlight shone, Near the lonely fisher-hut sat we, We sat there mute and alone. The mist came up, the tide rose high, The gull flew to and fro. And lovingly, from out thine eye. Came tear-drops, falling low. I saw them fall upon thy hand. Upon my knee I sank ; And then from off thy dear white hand The tears away I drank. My body since that hour doth fade, My soul dies longingly, — For with her tears that hapless maid Alas ! has poisoned me ! HEINE. 79 lapon tbe 3Far 1borl3om AM FERN EN HORIZONTE. f TPON the far horizon Looms, as in misty clouds, The city, with its tower, In evening's twilight-shrouds. A humid breeze casts ripples O'er waters gray and dark, With stroke both sad and measured The boatman rows my bark. Once more the sun glows radiant Before it sinks to rest, To me the spot unveiling Where I lost what I love best. THE HOMEWARD JOURNEY. ir StooD In Glooms Dreaming, ICH STA ND IN DUNKELN TRAUMEN. T STOOD in gloomy dreaming, Intent on her pictured form, And the beloved features With secret life grew warm. About her lips there quivered A smile, in wondrous wise ; What seemed like tears of sadness Was shining in her eyes. And then my own tears, also. Came coursing silently, — Alas ! I cannot believe it. That thou art lost to me ! HEINE. ^bci^ XTbtnk Q:bat 1f Bm pining* MA N GLA UB T DA SS ICH MICH GRAME. 'T'HEY think that I am pining Of true love's bitter grief, And I myself take part now In other folks' belief. Thou large-eyed little darling, I *ve said to thee alway, That I love thee past all telling ; Love eats my heart away. But only my still chamber Such words as these could hear, Alas ! I was ever silent When thou, my love, wert near. For there were evil spirits That kept my mouth shut tight ; And ah ! those evil spirits Have now undone me quite. THE HOMEWARD JOURNEY. ^beg XoveD JBacb ©tber, but meltber, SIE LIEB TEN SICH BEIDE, DOCH KEINER. 'T'HEY loved each other, but neither Would to the other confess ; Their looks were dark, but their bosoms Were melting with tenderness. At last they parted, and only In dreams had meetings rare ; They both long since had perished, — Though hardly themselves aware. HEINE. 83 /RS Deart fa Sa^ ant) IT Bm 2)rlvem DA S HERZ IS T MIR BEDR UCKT UND SEHNLICH. jyyjY heart is sad, and I am driven To think of old times longingly, The world was then so good to live in, And folks jogged on so peacefully. But now confusion e'er grows stronger, There 's naught but struggle, strife, and dread ; The God above us lives no longer, And down below the devil 's dead. Of light and joy this has bereft us, All things look jangled, rotten, gray. And were n't a little love still left us. Our last support were snatched away I 84 THE HOMEWARD JOURNEY. 2)0 IRot X06e Bll ©attence mttb ^e* WERDET NURNICHT UNGEDULDIG. T\ O not lose all patience with me If my olden heart-ache's sobbing In the songs I now am singing Can be heard still plainly throbbing. Wait, and you will hear this echo Of past grief resound no longer ; And my songs' new spring will blossom In a heart grown calm and stronger. HEINE. 85 Ibeart, Despair IRot, 1[ ITmplore irt HERZ, MEIN HERZ, SEI NICHT BEKLOMMEN. TTEART, despair not, I implore it, Learn to bear thy fate's decree ; That which winter took from thee Spring, returning, will restore it. Much is left that did not perish, Is not still the world most fair ? All thou findest lovely there, All is thine, to love and cherish. 86 THE HOMEWARD JOURNEY. Xtfte to a fflower, Xovel^* DU BIST WIE EINE BLUME. T IKE to a flower, lovely And pure and fair thou art ; I gaze on thee, and sadness Then steals into my heart. I long to lay in blessing My hands on thy head, and pray That God keep thee so lovely So fair and pure alway. HEINE, 87 Cbil^ 1ft TKHoulO JBe G:btne IHnDotng. KIND, ES WARE DEIN VERDERBEN. r^ HILD, it would be thine undoing, And I try most earnestly That thy heart so dear and tender Never glow with love of me. But that I succeed so quickly, Almost makes my spirits fall ; After all — at times I tell me, Could'st thou love me after all ! THE HOMEWARD JOURNEY. ®b ! XTbat tbc Stream ot /Bbis Sorrow6* ICH WOLL r MEINE SCHMERZEN ERGOSSEN. r\^ ! that the stream of my sorrows In a single word might flow ; To the merry breezes I 'd give it, That it merrily forth should go. They *d bear it to thee, beloved, That sorrow-laden word. At every place and hour, By thee it would be heard. And when upon thine eyelids Sleep scarce has laid its hand. My word will still pursue thee Into the dreamy land. HEINE. 89 •ffn tbe ipO6t*Cbat0e Darh IKIle JournegcD* WIR FUHREN ALLEIN IM DUNK EL N POST- WAG EN DIE GANZE NACHT. j IN the post-chaise dark we journeyed Alone, the whole night through ; On each other's heart we rested, There jesting, and laughing too. But when at length the day dawned, Dear child ! how surprised we were ! For Cupid was seated between us, The young blind passenger ! THE HOMEWARD JOURNEY. n^be iptlgrimage to Ikevlaar* DIE WA LLFA HRT NACH KEVLAAR. 'THE mother stood at the window, The son lay in his bed ; '* Here 's a procession, William ; Wilt not look out ? " she said. " I am so sick, O mother, Can see and hear no more ; I 'm thinking of dead Gretchen, That makes my heart so sore." " Arise, we '11 go to Kevlaar, Take book and rosary, And there, by our holy mother Thy sick heart cured will be." Now wave the church's banners. Now sounds the church's song ; On the Rhine, in Cologne, the holy Procession moves along. HEINE. The mother follows the pilgrims, Her son she leadeth now ; And both join in the chorus : " Oh ! Mary, praised be thou ! " The holy mother in Kevlaar Is decked in her best array ; She 's busy, for there are plenty Of sick to heal to-day. The sick ones on her altar Lay gifts which they deem meet ; There, waxen limbs they offer And waxen hands and feet. And he who gives a wax-hand Feels in his own no pain, And he who gives a wax-foot Feels his grow well again. To Kevlaar went many on crutches. Who now can dance in the air ; And many now play the fiddle Who had no sound finger there. THE HOMEWARD yOURNEV. The mother took a wax-light And formed of it a heart : " Take that to the holy mother, She '11 cure thy deepest smart." The son took, sighing, the wax-heart. To the image he stepped, with a sigh, These words from his heart come streaming. As the tear-drops stream from his eye : " Thou holy one, most blessed, Thou purest, God-like maid. Before thee, queen of heaven. My sorrows shall be laid. *' With mother I was living In the city called Cologne, A town that has many hundreds Of chapels and churches of stone. " Next door to us lived Gretchen, But dead, alas ! is she ! Oh ! Mary, I bring thee a wax-heart, Heal my heart's misery. *' Do thou my sick heart comfort, And morn and night I '11 bow In prayer, and sing devoutly : " Oh ! Mary, praised be thou." The sick son and his mother In their little chamber slept ; The holy mother then entered And softly to them stepped. Low over the sick youth bending, She stopped — and her hand did lay Upon his sore heart gently, — Then smiled, and passed away. All this, and more, the mother Saw as she lay asleep ; The dog barked loud and woke her Out of her slumbers deep. And there, outstretched, was lying Her son, — and he was dead ; On his visage pale was shining The early morning-red. THE HOMEWARD JOURNEY. Her hands the mother folded, — She felf — she knew not how ; She sang low and devoutly : 1 Mary, praised be thou." "Oh!M Ube 1bart3 5onrnes* DIE HARZREISE, ©n tbe fountain Stance tbe Cottage, A UF DEM BERGE STENT DIE HUTTE. r\^ the mountain stands the cottage Where the ancient miner lives, There the green old fir-tree rustles, Golden light the moon there gives. In the cottage, carved most richly. Stands an arm-chair, quaint and high ; He that sits there, he is happy And that happy one am I. On the footstool sits the maiden, With her arm propped on my knee ; Eyes that two blue stars resemble And a rose-red mouth has she. 95 96 THE HARTZ JOURNEY. And the dear, blue stars then open Heaven-wide to gaze at me, And she lays her lily-finger On her rose-lips, playfully. " No, the mother does not see us, For she spins unceasingly. And the father plays the zither To the ancient melody." And the maiden whispers softly. Softly, in a voice suppressed : — Many an important secret Thus she poured into my breast — ** But since grandame's dead and buried We can nevermore repair To the Schlitzenhof at Goslar, — And it is so lovely there. "*" Here alas ! it is so lonely. On this mountain cold and steep. And in winter we seem, truly, Buried in the snow-fall deep. HEINE. 97 *' And I am a timid maiden, Like unto a child, I fear All the evil mountain-goblins That, at night, come prowling near." Sudden stops the maid, affrighted By her voice, that sinks and dies ; Both her little hands she raises Pressing them on both her eyes. And the fir-tree rustles louder. And the spin-wheel creaks and hums, And the zither's song, between them. In the old refrain still comes : " Have no fear, thou lovely maiden. Of the evil spirits' power ; For the angels, dearest maiden. Watch o'er thee at every hour ! " 98 THE HARTZ JOURNEY. ITbe SbepberD JSoi^ '6 a \Der^ Iktng* KONIG 1ST DER HIRTENKNABE. HTHE shepherd boy *s a very king, His throne is on a verdant mound, And with the sun above his head As with the heaviest gold he 's crowned. The sheep are lying at his feet, With crosses red, soft flatterers they — The calves, who are his Cavaliers, Are strutting proudly on their way. The little goats his court-players are. And all the birds and all the kine Try, with their flutes and little bells, To make the chamber-music fine. And all this sweetly sounds and rings. And 'midst it all sweet rustlings creep, Of spruce-trees and of waterfalls, Until the monarch sinks in sleep. HEINE, But in the meanwhile, there must reign The minister, and he is found To be the dog, whose snarling bark Is heard in echoes all around. ** To govern is so very hard," The young king murmurs drowsily, '* Oh ! would that with my dearest queen, Already I at home might be. * ' For in the arms of my sweet queen My royal head so softly lies. And all my boundless kingdom is Contained within her lovely eyes." 99 i^rinbH loiaqm^ b^voba " vjtj btia?,.?q ^fid wen odW THE HARTZ JOVRNEY. •ff Bm tbe pttncesa 1fl0e« ICH BIN DIE PRINZESSIN ILSE. T AM the Princess Use, And Ilsenstein 's my home ; That we two may taste love's rapture, To my castle with me come. And there I will anoint thee With my waters clear and fair, Thy pains shall be forgotten, Thou comrade sick with care ! In my white arms will I fold thee. And on my bosom white There shalt thou lie a-dreaming Of fairy-tales' delight. I '11 fondle and I '11 kiss thee. As I kissed and fondled, one day, Beloved Emperor Heinrich, Who now has passed away. HEINd. , ' . ^^f w \j \^^ : The dead are gone forever, The living live with us ; And I am fair and blooming, My heart laughs, tremulous. And when my heart is laughing, My crystal palace rings out ; Then dance the knights and maidens And jubilant vassals shout. The silken trains then rustle. And clanking spurs arc worn. The dwarfs sound drum and trumpet And fiddle, and blow their horn. But thou shalt lie enfolded. Like the Emperor, in my arm ; I stopped his ears from hearing The trumpet's wild alarm. Bortbsea C^clc, NORDSEE CYCLUS. EPILOG. A S in the field the stalks of wheat, Thus grow and sway man's thoughts Within his mind. But the tender thoughts of poets Are like gaily interspersed Red and blue flowers. Red and blue flowers ! The petulant reaper discards you as useless, Wooden flails thresh you scornfully, Even the destitute wanderer, Whom a glimpse of you delights and refreshes, Shakes his head, And calls you beautiful weeds. 103 NORTHSEA CYCLE. But the rustic maiden, The wreath-binder, Adores you and plucks you, And decks her lovely locks with you. And thus adorned, she hies to the dancing-green Where the sweet strains of pipe and fiddle resound, Or to the quiet beech-tree Where the voice of the beloved sounds sweeter far Than pipe and fiddle. mew Spring* NEVER FRUHLING, Xlbe SlenDer Timater^Xils^ DIE SCHLANKE WASSERLILIE. 'T'HE slender water-lily Looks up from the lake in a dream ; The moon wafts brightly downward A loving, longing beam. Abashed, the wee head sinketh And back to the waves is drawn ; And there, at her feet, she findeth The comrade pale and forlorn. io6 NEW SPRING. Z\^z 1R06e 1[0 Jragrant— but Timbetbet Sbe J'eeletb, DIE ROSE DUFTET—DOCH OB SIE EMPFINDET. 'T'HE rose is fragrant — but whether she feeleth All that she exhales ; and whether again The nightingale feels what through our soul stealeth At t^e sound of her lovely, echoing strain: — I know it not. But truth, most trying. Oft chafes our souls ; and e'en if we see That the rose and nightingale both have been lying, This lie — like some others — most fruitful may be ! . HEINE. 107 JiSecauae IT Xove XTbee, IF flSust Xeave tTbee^ fT^/Z /C^ Z)/C/f LIEBE.MUSS ICH FLIEHEND. OECAUSE I love thee, I must leave thee ! Oh ! be not wroth, — I shun thy face ! Thy visage bright and fair, believe me, Hath near my mournful one no place. Because I love thee — grow uncomely My features sad, and waste away ; Perhaps, ere long, thou 'It find me homely — Oh ! be not wroth, — I will not stay ! NEW SPRING. (5entle Cbfmea mftb Sweeteet mm* LEISE ZIEHT DURCH MEIN GEMUTH, r^ ENTLE chimes with sweetest ring O'er my soul are stealing; Ring out little song of spring, Through the distance pealing. To the cottage wing thy flight Where bloom flowers tender ; When a rose there greets thy sight, Say my love I send her. HEINE. CTere mas an BgeD jflRonarcb. ES WAR BIN ALTER KONIG. 'T'HERE was an aged monarch, Gray was his hair, sad was his life; The poor old monarch married A fair and youthful wife. There was a handsome page-boy. Gay was his heart, blonde was his hair; The silken train he carried Of the queen so young and fair. Know'st thou the olden story ? It is so sweet, so sad to tell. They both were doomed to perish, They loved each other too well. /iDlscellaneous^ VERSCHIEDENE, SERAPHINE. I mben 1f ^brougb tbe Dreami2 fforeet WANDV ICH IN DEM WALD DBS ABENDS, AA7HEN I through the dreamy forest Wander on at eventide, Ever does thy slender figure There go wand'ring by my side. Are not these thy lovely features ? Thy white veil that softly stirs ? Or is it the moonlight only Breaking thro' the gloomy firs ? Do I hear my own tears falling As they course down quietly ? Or dost thou walk weeping, dearest Verily, there next to me ? MISCELLA NEOUS. 2 ©n tbe Silent Sbotc6 of ©ceam ^iW DEM STILLEN MEERESSTRANDE. r\^ the silent shores of ocean Dusky night has fast been falling, And the moon breaks thro' the cloudrifts, And the waves are softly calling : " Is that fellow there demented, Or in love perhaps ? For very Merry, and yet sad he seemeth, Sad, and at the same time merry." But the moon laughs out, and calleth Clearly, from her high position : " He *s in love, and he 's demented, And a poet in addition ! " HEINE. 3 f See a TlClbite ^ew KonDer. DAS 1ST EINE WEISSE MOWE. T SEE a white mew yonder, Whose flutt'ring wings are spread Above the darkling billows ; The moon stands high o'erhead. The shark and the roach are snapping Out of their watery bed, The mew is rising and falling ; The moon stands high o'erhead. Oh ! dear heart, ever restless, Thou 'rt stirred with woe and dread ! The water is too near thee ; The moon stands high o'erhead. MISCELLA NEOUS. 4 IT IRnew ^bat Ubou D06t Xove ^c» DAS DU MICH LIEBST, DAS WUSST' ICH. T KNEW that thou dost love me, 'T was long ago made clear ; But when thou did'st confess it, I thrilled with sudden fear. 'T is true, I climb'd the mountains. And sang exultingly ; But, weeping, when the sun set, I walked beside the sea. My heart the sun resembles, So flaming to the sight ; And in love's endless ocean It setteth grand and bright. HEINE. 5 1bow IJClonD'rlngls tbe Sea*jffl^ew» WIE NEUBEGIERIG DIE MOWE. OOW wond'ringly the sea-mew Doth over at us peer, Because I press so closely Unto thy lips mine ear ! She 's longing to discover To what thy lips give vent ; If words indeed, or kisses Into mine ear thou 'st sent. Could I myself but fathom What hisses thus into me ! Thy words are with thy kisses Commingled wondrously. MISCELLA NEOUS. 6 Sbe ff IcD from /Hbe %Wz a n:imiD Doe, SIE FLOH VOR MIR WIE'N REH SO SCHEU. C HE fled from me like a timid doe, And with the doe's speed vying ; She clambered up from crag to crag, Her hair in the wind was flying. Where to the sea the cliff descends To catch her I succeeded, And her coy heart I softened there. As with soft words I pleaded. Up there as high as heav'n we sat, And with heav'n's bliss pervaded ; Deep under us, in the dusky sea. The sunlight slowly faded. Deep under us, the beauteous sun Sank in the dusky ocean ; The waves with rapture o'er it swept. In turbulent commotion. HEINE. Oh ! do not weep ! The sun lies not Dead 'neath those billows flowing, But in my heart has hid itself With all its fire glowing. 1 18 M ISC ELL A NEO US. 7 Sba^owg Xove auD Sba^owg 1kl06e6. SCHA TTENKUSSE—SCHA TTENLIEBE. C HADOWY love and shadowy kisses, Shadowy life, so wondrous strange ! Little fool, think'st thou that this is Ever true, and will not change ? Like a dream fades all we cherish'd, All we firmly hoped to keep ; Memory from our hearts has perish'd, And our eyes, — they close in sleep. HEINE. 1x9 8 ^be Damsel StooD bs tbc ©ceam Z>^^ FRAULEIN STAND AM MEERE. 'T'HE damsel stood by the ocean, — Sighed long and heavily ; So sad 't was, to her notion. The setting sun to see. Dear miss, pray cease your fretting, An old trick have we here, Before us it is setting. And rises in our rear. MISCELLA NEOUS. 9 ^^ Sbip, witb JSlach Sails, Sails Blong* MIT SCHWA RZEN SEGELN SEGEL T MEIN S^HII^'F. AA Y ship, with black sails, sails along Far o'er the raging sea ; Thou know'st how sad I am, — and yet, So sorely grievest me. Thy heart is fickle as the wind, And sways unsteadily ; My ship, with black sails, sails along Far o'er the raging sea. l)ow Sbametulls tibou *0t %ctct>. WIE SCHANDLICH DU GEHANDELT, OOW shamefully thou 'st acted, From all men I 've concealed it ; But I have sailed out to the sea, And to the fishes revealed it. Thy name on dry land, only, May still be thought untainted ; But in the sea is everyone With thy disgrace acquainted. MISCELLA NEOUS. II ITbe IRoaring Maves* ES ZIEHEN DIE BRA USENDEN WELLEN. 'T'HE roaring waves are making Straight for the land ; They 're swelling and they 're breaking Upon the sand. They come in endless fashion, Great, vigorous ; At last, burst into passion, — What helps it us ? HEINE. 12 Z\^z IRuntc Stone Jute ©ut ffrom tbe :J6eacb. ^.9 RAGT IN'S MEER DER RUNENSTEIN. 'T'HE Runic stone juts out from the beach, There I sit, as my thoughts go roaming ; The wild wind pipes, the sea-gulls screech, The billows are flowing and foaming. On many fair girls and comrades kind Have I my love been bestowing ; — Where have they gone ? Wild pipes the wind. The billows are foaming and flowing. 124 MIS CELL A NEOUS. 13 ^be Sea (Bleame ffortb JBeneatb tbe Sum DA S MEER ERSTRA HL T IM SONNENSCHEIN. 'T'HE sea gleams forth beneath the sun As if of gold 't were made. When I am dead, my brothers, In the sea I 'd fain be laid. I 've always loved the sea so well ; Its flow hath soothingly So oft refreshed my spirit ; Good friends, indeed, were we. HEINE. ANGELIQUE. ©n :JSotb 1ber :6se6 /[Rs IbanD 1F pressed* ICH HAL TE I MR DIE A UGEN ZU. r\^ both her eyes my hand I pressed As a kiss from her I won ; And now she will not let me rest, But asks wherefore 't was done. From evening late until sunrise She questions without rest : " Why did you cover both my eyes, As your lips to mine you pressed ? ** The reason why, I do not tell. Myself, I cannot guess — But both her eyes I cover well. And my lips to hers I press. 126 MISCELLANEOUS, KATHARINE. Xong TDdas IT Songleea an5 BejecteD* GESANGLOS WAR ICH UND BEKLOMMEN, T ONG was I songless and dejected, But now my muse returns to me ; Just as our tears come unexpected, So come our songs, quite suddenly. Once more I sing, in rhythmic measure, Of love so great, and greater woe. Of hearts that quarrel in displeasure. Yet break, when far apart they go. At times, methinks, I feel the flutter Of German oak-leaves o'er my brow — Of meetings too, they seem to mutter, — But these are dreams — they vanish now. Anon sweet strains with rapture fill me. The German nightingale's old lay — How tenderly the soft notes thrill me ! — But these are dreams — they die away. HEINE. Where are the roses that delighted My fond heart once ? — Long since was spent Their bloom, alas ! — Their shades benighted Still haunt my soul with ghostly scent. poems of tbe Zimcs. ZEITGEDICHTE. migbt XTbougbte* NA CHTGEDA NKEN. A T night I think of Germany, And then all slumber flies from me ; I can no longer close mine eyes, The hot and bitter tears will rise. The years pass close upon each other ; And since I last beheld my mother, Full twelve long years have come and gone. And ever has my yearning grown. My wistful yearning e'er has grown, For o'er my soul a spell she 's thrown ; From her my thoughts I cannot sever, The dear old dame — God bless her ever ! 129 POEMS OF THE TIMES. She loves me well, the dear old dame, And in the lines that from her came, 'T is proven by the words all blurred How deep her mother's heart was stirred. My mother *s in my mind alway ; Full twelve long years have passed away, Full twelve long years have joined the past Since to my heart I clasped her last. Oh ! Germany will ever stand ! It is a strong and healthy land, And with its oak, and linden trees I 'm sure to find it, when I please. I should not thirst for Germany so. Did I not there my mother know ; The fatherland will ever stay, — The mother may be called away. Since I have left my native land. On many Death has laid its hand ; I loved them once — I call the roll And count them now with bleeding soul. HEINE. Count them I must ; yet, as I count, Still higher does my torture mount, As if the corpses, one by one, Climbed on my breast ! — Thank God, they 're Thank God ! now, through my window, glance The cheerful morning rays of France. My wife comes with Aurora's bloom To smile away the German gloom ! POEMS OF THE TIMES. (Berman^. DEUTSCHLAND, r^ ERMANIA'S fame will I extol, Oh ! hearken to my finest verse. Yet high and higher soars my soul, And purest joys my heart traverse. Before me lies the Book of Life : The many changes earth did see, ' Twixt good and bad the constant strife,- All this is now made clear to me. From distant Frankish land once came Hell's darkest spirits, shrewd and sly, Who brought disgrace and direst shame On pious, good old Germany. Of all belief and virtue fair, Of all our faith in heav'nly gain, Of all our good they laid us bare, — And gave us naught but sin and pain. HEINE. Oh ! then did German sunlight pale ! It will not shine on German shame ; And hollow sounds of funeral wail, Out of the German oak-trees came. But suddenly the sun grew bright ; The oak-tree waves a joyous strain ; There come the judges of the right, Avenging all our shame and pain. The altars of deceit now shake, And fall into the seething broil, All German hearts to thanks awake, — Now free is sacred German soil ! ' ' See'st on the hills the flames shoot high ? Oh ! say, why sweeps the fire along ? " '* Those flames so fierce exemplify Germania's image, pure and strong." Released from evil's sinful yoke, Now, all unharmed, stands Germany ; And still the gloomy spot doth smoke. From which the lovelier form rose free. 134 POEMS OF THE TIMES. The ancient oak-stems now unfold Their blossoms new, and wondrous sweet ; Strange blossoms fade, and rustlings old Familiarly the senses greet. Now all that 's lovely comes anew, All good returns without alloy, And every German, staunch and true, Most gladly hails his German joy. The olden virtues, olden ways. The hero's courage, old and good, The German youth his sword now sways, For Hermann's grandson fears no blood. A hero never breeds a dove ; — Most lion-like is Hermann's air, But firm belief and trust in God Should equally with courage pair. Their sorrows taught the German how Christ's lessons should be understood ; All Germans are close brothers now, — Humanity alone is good. HEINE. Once more is heard the ancient lyre, With minstrel's song again we 're blest ; Oh ! gentle muse, thou dost attire In lovely garb the hero's breast. Against the French he went to war, And waged a hot and bitter fight ; Their false oaths to avenge he swore. Dispensing death with bloody might. At home our German women rose To soothe, with soft hands, bitter need, And bind the sacred wounds of those Who for the Fatherland did bleed. In festive garb — though black her dress — The lovely German woman beams. Rare gems and flow'rs her form caress, Her belt of diamonds brightly gleams. But lovelier, by far, is she, Methinks, when low I see her bend Down o'er the sick-bed, lovingly, And there her soothing cares extend. X36 POEMS OF THE TIMMS. For, angel-like doth she appear With soothing draught, so tenderly The wounded warrior's death to cheer, — Whose parting glance smiles gratefully. To earn a hero's place of rest On battle-ground, — ah, that is sweet ! To breathe one's last on woman's breast, — For gods such Paradise is meet. Alas ! you poor, poor sons of France, On you Dame Fortune does not smile ! For, on the Seine, the fair one's glance Did covet but your gold so vile. Oh ! German women, German women ! These words enfold a magic charm Oh ! German women, German women, May time preserve you from all harm ! IRew Songs* NEUE LIEDER, BIN WEIB. T^HEY loved each other past belief ; A rogue was she, and he a thief ; And when his crimes he went about, She laughed — full on her bed stretched out. The days went by in joy and play, At night upon his breast she lay, And when to jail they led him out, From the window came her merry shout. He sent her word " Oh, come to me. So greatly do I long for thee, I call on thee, I pine for thee " — She shook her head, still laughingly. 137 138 NEW SONGS. They hanged him up at six in the morn, At seven he lay in his grave forlorn ; But she — at eight already quaffed Her purple wine, and gaily laughed. HEINE. FR UHLINGSFEIER. "1X7 ITH such sad bliss doth Spring delude ! The blooming maids, the savage flocks, Onward they storm, with flying locks And cries of pain, and bosoms nude: — " Adonis ! Adonis ! " The night descends. The torchlight gleams, As to and fro they scour the wood, Which echoes to their frenzied mood. Their cries and laughter, sobs and screams: — '' Adonis ! Adonis ! " The lovely youth, surpassing fair, Stretched on the ground lies pale and dead, His blood dyes all the flowers red. And sounds of wailing fill the air: — "Adonis ! Adonis ! " NEW SONGS. IKabat ir 1bave, Bsk IRot, /IR^ Barling, FRAG' NICHT, LIEBCHEN, WAS ICH HABE. "1X7 HAT I have, ask not, my darling, Ask me rather what I am ; For I have no mighty treasures. Yet both good and true I am. Ask me not just how my life 's spent, But for whom — that ask of me ; For my life is poor and lonely, But my life is spent for thee. Ask me not what are my pleasures, Ask me not what is my pain ; For by joy is he deserted Whose poor heart is rent in twain. HEINE. DIE LEHRE. IVA OTHER to little bee : *' Candle-light shun," says she ; But to these words, indeed. Little bee pays no heed. Near the light does he come, Singing his hum-hum-hura, — Mother's cry hears not he : " Little bee, little bee." Young blood has lost its head, Darts in the flame so red ; Into the flame darts he, •'Little bee, little bee." Flame bursts out flaringly. Dealing death glaringly ! *' Maidens wee must thou shun, Little son, little son ! " GOETHE. 143 poems* GEDICHTE, Zhz TKIlanD'ter'0 natgbt Song^ DES WANDERER'S NACHTLFED. /^N every hill All is still ; Scarce a breeze Stirs the trees* Topmost nest. The birds, in the woods, hush their song. Wait, thou too, ere long, Wilt have rest. '4^ X46 POEMS. ©cean Calm* MEERESS TILLE. IN the water reigns deep silence, Without motion broods the sea, On its smooth expanse the sailor Rests his glances anxiously. Not a breeze from any quarter, — Awful stillness of the grave. Thro* the boundless space of water Nowhere, nowhere stirs a wave. GOETHE. GLUCKLICHE FAHRT. T^HE mists are dispersing, Serene are the heavens, And iEolus loosens The anxious band. Fresh breezes now flurry. The sailor bestirs him ; Oh, hurry ! oh, hurry ! The billows part lightly. The distance approacheth, — Lo ! there is the land ! 148 POEMS. SCHWEIZERLIED, /^N a hill-top Was I sitting, And the birdies Watched t; They were singing, They were springing, Nest-building On high. In a garden Was I standing, Watched the busy Bees swarm ; Buzzing, humming, Quickly coming. Their cells there To form. GOETHE. To a meadow Then I wander'd, Watched the butter- Flies play ; Sipping sweetly, Rising fleetly, Oh ! so pretty Were they. And now up comes My Hansel ; To him, gladly, I show How 't was done, then, — And in fun, then. We do it Just so. ISO POEMS. ^be Bugler. DER FISCHER. TTHE water surged, the water swelled, An angler sat on the shore ; Gazed calmly at the rod he held. His heart cool to the core. And as he sits and as he lists. The flood uplifts and parts. And then out from the surging mists A wat'ry maiden starts. She spoke to him, she sang to him : " Why lure my brood on high, With human wit and human wiles, Where in the glare they die ? Oh ! if thou knew'st how cosily Here, the little fishes dwell. Thou would'st come down, as thou art, to me, And then thou would'st grow well. GOETHE. " Is not the moon, the dear sun too, Soothed by the ocean's flow ? As wave on wave they breathe anew, Do they not lovelier grow ? Does not the sky's deep glow tempt thee, Its moist, translucent blue ? Would'st not thy own face mirrored see, Here, in eternal dew?" The water surged, the water swelled. Wet his bare foot above ; His soul yearned forth, as tho* impelled By greetings from his love ! She spoke to him, she sang to him, — Then all with him was o'er — Half drew she him, half yielded he, — And then was seen no more. POEMS. IDanitae IDanttatum, r\^ nothing have I set my heart, Heyday ! Thus so much good doth life impart, Heyday ! And he who would my comrade be, Must glasses clink, sing merrily, And drain this wine with me. On gold and gain my heart set I, Heyday ! But joy and mirth I lost thereby, Lackaday ! The coin went rolling all around. If in one spot I thought *t was found, To another it would bound ! I set my heart on women, next, Heyday ! But grievously was I then vex*d, Lackaday ! GOETHE. 153 The false one other lovers sought, The true one was a bore, methought, The best could not be bought. I set my heart on travels wide, Heyday ! Far from my native land I hied, Lackaday ! And things to me seemed nowhere right, Strange fare by day, hard bed by night, None understood me quite. I set my heart on honor and fame, Heyday ! Lo ! others soon won more of a name, Lackaday ! When I at last had risen high. All folks looked then on me awry, None could I satisfy. I set my heart on fray and fight, Heyday ! And many a battle we won outright, Heyday ! POEMS. To hostile lands did we repair, Our friends were doom'd no better to fare, And I a leg lost there. Now I 've set my heart on naught, you see, Heyday ! And all the world belongs to me ! Heyday ! Our song and feasting all must stop ; Now all this wine, let 's drink it up. Out with the very last drop ! GEIBEL. GEDICHTE, © Zbcxctoxc 1f0 tbe Spring 00 JSrlgbt. O VARUM 1ST DER LENZ SO SCHON. r\ THEREFORE is the Spring so bright With music, flow'rs, and sun, Because o'er dale and mountain height Its song must soon pass on. And therefore does love's ecstasy Such blissful dreams inspire, Because like blossoms on the tree They languish and expire. And yet, they leave so warm a glow, Such wealth our hearts to bless ! Sweet love, high rapture did I know. E'en that is happiness ! ^57 158 POEMS. Throughout the scanty day my breast Drank in each golden ray ; The glorious sun has sunk to rest, And now let come what may. If blessings new, if bitter woe, I will accept it all ; The treasure in my heart below Is mine, whatever befall ! GEIBEL. 159 (Tbe poor (3ooD:=tor5=1Rotbing. DER ARME TAUGENICHTS. TT, verily, is not my fault That my poor nose is all awry, And that at the tavern 't is easier to halt Than to work at the plough, in the fields near by ; And that for the miller's child I care Much more than for our portly priest ! But I waste my breath — this bad world ne *er Can understand me in the least ! The miller's a grim old fellow, forsooth ! A good-for-nothing he says, am I : And the village-folk all take this for truth. And his rosy daughter joins in the cry ! At the mill-brook she spies me, and pulls a long face. And turns up her dear little nose in disdain. Contriving to do this with so much grace That with anger and love my heart bursts ii^ twain ! x6o POEMS. Now out to the trees my sorrow I bring, But they are so mute, but they are so cool ; The cuckoo and bullfinch mockingly sing And the beetles are buzzing : Thou fool, thou fool! If this goes on, if things soon don't mend, Then here in the village, I '11 stand it no more. Across the big forest my footsteps I '11 wend, And fiddle my way then from door to door ! GEIBEL. i6i f n BpriL IM APRIL, /^H, dewey eve in spring-time, How fond of thee am I ! The sky with clouds is curtain'd, A few stars gleam on high. What seems like love's soft breathing The balmy air exhales ; The violet's sweet perfume Ascends from all the dales. A song just like this evening I fain would waft aloft ; But I find none that soundeth So dark, so mild and soft. POEMS. © Still ^bi6 BrOent Kearntn^ ! O STILLE DIES VERLANGEN ! r\ STILL this ardent yearning, Soothe this sweet agony ! To clasp thee I am burning, Let thy lover come to thee ! E'en now the world lies dreaming, Night sheds its fragrant dew ; The moon, from her blue vault beaming, Keeps watch o'er lovers true. On those with fond love burning She beams most tenderly. O still this ardent yearning, Let thy lover come to thee ! Like fire that sweetly consumes me. Thou glowest in my heart ; O lift the veil that dooms me From thee to keep apart ! GEIBEL. 163 To thy red lips let me cling then And drink thy soul divine, My own soul I will bring then And yield it up for thine — O still this ardent yearning, Soothe this sweet agony ! To clasp thee I am burning, Let thy lover come to thee ! The golden stars send greeting Down from the heavens bright ; Kisses and whispers are fleeting Mysterious, through the night. And even the little flowers Their heads with longing move, The nightingales sing in the bowers ; Thou, too, may'st dream and love ! O still this ardent yearning, Let thy lover come to thee ! In dreams with passion burning We two shall blessM be. 1 64 POEMS. (5on&oltera» GONDOLIERA . r\ COME to me when thro' the night The starry legions ride ! Then, o'er the sea, in the moonshine bright, Our gondola will glide. The air is soft as a lover's jest, And gently gleams the light, The zither sounds, and thy soul is blest To join in this delight. O come to me when thro' the night The starry legions ride ! Then o'er the sea, in the moonshine bright Our gondola will glide. This is the hour for lovers true, Darling, like thee and me ; Serenely smile the heavens blue And calmly sleeps the sea. GEIBEL. 165 And as it sleeps, a glance will say What speech in vain has tried ; The lips then do not shrink away, Nor is a kiss denied. O come to me when thro' the night The starry legions ride ! Then o'er the sea, in the moonshine bright Our gondola will glide. POEMS. Xet IWo ©ne Baft thz lE\?er. WOLLE KEINER MICH ERA GEN. I ET no one ask me ever Why beats my heart so high, For I, myself, can never Tell the reason why. My dizzy brain is reeling, And dream-like all has grown ; My every thought and feeling Is thine alone. Since first thine eyes did bless me, I *m lost to time and space ; To my heart I fain would press thee And die in thine embrace. My life — I 'd gladly give it, For a single smile from thee, And thou — must I believe it ? — Deniest it me ! GEIBEL. 167 Is 't fate, or thy own will, dear, That blind to me thou art ? Now weep I here, quite still, dear. Till breaks my heart. i68 POEMS. (31rlbooD'0 SoxiQQ. MA DCHENLIEDER. HTHE pinks that I so cherish, Each with its purple star,- Now all of them must perish, For thou art far ! The flames once gladly tended Upon my hearth, now are In smoke and ashes ended, For thou art far ! Life's joys no longer win me, I see nor flower, nor star ; My heart is dead within me For thou art far ! C EI BEL. 169 II. LJOW bright the sun was beaming, The trees all blossom'd in May, Thine eyes with love were gleaming — That 's passed away ! Long since the buds have perished, For Autumn's work was swift ; The blissful dreams I cherish'd, — In the wind they drift ! POEMS. ANTWORT. VOU ask me why, dear maiden, My songs with tears are laden ? What grieves me must I say ? My spring has passed untasted, My youth in dreams been wasted, My love been trifled away. Life's cup swelled higher and higher. To drink I lacked desire, — I let the cup pass on ; Figs, grapes, from green vines pending, With sweet pomegranates blending. Lured me, — I would have none ! As evening then came stealing, The glorious sun concealing. My thirst awoke at last ; But then the cup had vanish'd. The luscious fruits were banish'd. And night was falling fast. GEIBEL. Now, by the world forsaken, Out to the streets I 've taken My sorrow's piteous lay : My spring has passed untasted My youth in dreams been wasted, My love been trifled away. 172 POEMS. B0 irt mm Ibappen* IV IE ES GEHT. " LJE loves thee not ! He trifles but with thee ! " They said to her, and then she bowed her head, And pearly tears, like roses' dew, wept she. Oh ! that she ever trusted what they said ! For when he came and found his bride in doubt, Then, from sheer spite, he would not show his sorrow ; He played and drank and laughed, day in day out, — To weep from night until the morrow ! 'T is true, an angel whispered in her heart : ' ' He *s faithful still, Oh ! lay thy hand in his " : And he, too, felt 'midst grief and bitter smart : " She loves thee ! After all, thy love she is ; Let but a gentle word pass on each side, The spell that parts you now, will then be broken !'' They came — each looked on each — Oh ! evil pride ! — That single word remained unspoken ! GEIBEL. 173 They parted then. As in a church one oft Extinguished sees the altar lamps' red fires, Their light grows dim, then once more flares aloft In radiance bright — and thereupon expires, — So died their love ; at first lamented o'er, Then yearned for ardently, and then — forgotten, Until the thought that they had loved before. Of mere delusion seemed begotten ! But sometimes, when the moon shone out at night, Each started from his couch ! Ah, was it not Bedewed with tears ? And tears, too, dimmed their sight, Because these two had dreamed — I know not what ! And then the dear old times woke in their heart, Their foolish doubts, their parting, that had driven Their souls so far, so very far apart, — Oh ! God, let both now be forgiven ! POEMS. See'6t ^bou tbe Sea? SI EH 'ST DU DAS MEER ? C EE'ST thou the sea ? The sun gleams on its wave With splendor bright ; But where the pearl lies buried in its cave Is deepest night. The sea am I. My soul, in billows bold, Rolls fierce and strong ; And over all, like to the sunlight's gold, There streams my song. It throbs with love and pain as though possessed Of magic art, And yet, in silence bleeds, within my breast. My gloomy heart. G EI BEL. Separation, Deeolation. SCHEIDEN, LEIDEN. 'T'HOUGH thou art gone, though thou art far And angry still with me, Yet my thoughts, full of sadness, are All day and night with thee. They dwell upon thy dear blue eyes And on thy heart divine — Oh, no one shall I ever find Whose love can be like thine ! The world stood wreathed in flowers bright While yet I was with thee ; The tree-tops rustled from each height, The moon beamed tenderly. Thou culled'st a rose, I kissed thee then And sang as thy lips touched mine ; Oh, no one shall I ever find Whose love can be like thine. 1/6 POEMS. *T is true, I *m free as the falcon bold That skyward wings his flight, And who this fair world may behold All bathed in golden light ; But he has a cosy nest, — and where Shall I, some day, recline ? Oh, no one shall I ever find Whose love can be like thine ! Oh, bitter hour, oh, bitter day That tore us two apart ! Since then all joy has fled away And peace has left my heart. Now I may roam o'er land and sea But rest will ne'er be mine ; Oh, no one shall I ever find Whose love can be like thine ! GEIBEL. 177 ©nwarO. VORWARTS. /^EASE thy dreaming ! Cease thy quailing ! Wander on untiringly. Though thy strength may all seem failing, Onward ! must thy watchword be. Durst not tarry, tho' life's roses 'Round about thy footsteps throng, Tho' the ocean's depth discloses Sirens, with their witching song. Onward ! onward ! ever calling On thy muse, in life's stern fray. Till thy fever'd brow feels falling From above, a golden ray. Till the verdant wreath, victorious. Crown with soothing shade thy brow ; Till the spirit's flames rise glorious Over thee, with sacred glow. POEMS. Onward then, through hostile fire, Onward thro' death's agony ! Who to heaven would aspire, Must a valiant warrior be. GEIBEL. HOFFNUNG. I ET Winter threaten as it will, And with fierce mien distress thee, Though snow and ice he scatter, — still Spring must return to bless thee. What tho' dense mists, in mountain-piles. The sun's rays now hold captured. One of these days, beneath its smiles, The world will wake, enraptured. Blow on, ye storms ! Blow on with might, I know no timorous feeling ; For after all, Spring, over night. Will come, on tiptoe stealing. All clad in green then wakes the earth, What happened, she 'd fain discover ; She laughs to the sunny heavens in mirth, With bliss she is brimming over, i8o POEMS. She twines gay wreaths, which in her hair, With roses and wheat she is tressing, Bids the brooks flow clear, as tho' they were Bright tears, born of a blessing. Therefore, be still ! Oh, yield not, heart. Midst ice and cold to sadness ! For all the world there 's set apart A grand may-day of gladness. Though often Hell on earth seem nigh, And darkest fears oppress thee. Trust dauntlessly in God on high, — Spring must return to bless thee. Songs* LIEDER, Xet tbc Songe ir ^m Sin^in^ (3ol<>cn GOLDNE B RUCK EN SEIENALLE LIEDER MIR I ET the songs I *m singing Golden bridges be, That my love may wander O'er them, pet, to thee. And on dream's swift pinions, In sorrow or delight — Oh ! let me be carried To thy heart each night. SOATGS. ^be Silent Maters^Xll^, DI£ SriLLE WASSERROSE. T^HE silent water-lily From the blue lake rises up, Her moistened leaves are trembling, And snow white is her cup. And then the moon from heaven, Its golden radiance all, And all its beams refulgent Into her lap lets fall. In the lake, about the flower, A white swan circles 'round ; It sings so soft, so sweetly, On the flow'r its gaze is bound. It sings so soft, so sweetly, And, singing, would die away — O flower, snow-white flower, What the song means, can'st thou say ? GEIBEL, 183 % Crown ot Corntlow're ILet /IRe IKIlrcatbe* KORNBLUMEN FLECHV ICH DIR ZUM KRANZ. A CROWN of cornflow'rs let me wreathe And in thy blonde locks twine ; How clearly on the gold beneath Their glossy blue doth shine ! That blue crown is a joy to me, It tells me ever anew, That none, my child, can be like thee, So tender and so true. And then, its blue, like heav'n above. In sweet wise whispers this : That I have found in thy dear love A Paradise of bliss ! 1 84 so^rrrS. TRUltbin a IRoaebueb %ovc Once Sat B/E LIEBE SASS ALS NACHTIGALL. "XA/ITHIN a rosebush Love once sat As nightingale, and sang Such wondrous lovely music that The wood with echoes rang. And at the sound there rose aloft A thousand perfumes rare, And all the tree-tops rustled soft, And softly stirred the air. Hush'd were the brooks whose merry bound Had just come from the hill ; The little does, to catch the sound. As in a dream stood still. And, over all, the sunlight streamed And ever grew more bright ; Ravine and wood and flowers seemed All bathed in crimson light. GEIBEL. 185 I also caught that music when Thro* the woods I strolled along, — Oh ! all that I have sung since then Was the echo of that song ! SONGS. ©nee JBowe^ wttb (3tlet anD Sore 2)i6tce06*D« »^6>7/Z iL^^" ICH EINSr INGRAM UND SCHMERZ, /^NCE bowed with grief and sore distrcss'd I wept all day and night ; And now I weep because my breast O'erflows with pure delight. Methinks my bosom doth contain The heavens wide and far ; Oh, greatest bliss, oh, greatest pain, How much alike you are ! i87 m Xa6t tbc Da^liflbt S^aDetb* NUNISTDER TAG GESCHIEDEN, A T last the daylight fadeth With all its noise and glare, Refreshing peace pervadeth The darkness everywhere. On the fields deep silence hovers ; The woods now wake alone ; What daylight ne'er discovers Their songs to the night make known. And what, when the sun is shining, I ne'er can tell to thee. To whisper it now I am pining, — Oh ! come and hearken to me ! SONGS. Wibcn JBvcnim'B lS>^inQ fflamee Sink WENN STILL MIT SEINEN LETZTEN FLAM MEN. "\5[7HEN evening's dying flames sink yonder Into the waters, silently, Beneath the beeches then we wander, Where slopes the forest to the sea. We see the moon thro' cloud-rifts sailing, We hear the distant nightingale ; We breathe sweet scents — but words are failing, For, what can empty speech avail ? No songs can tell our greatest rapture, The heart is quiet when most blest : A kiss to win, a glance to capture, — And every longing is at rest ! GEIBEL. 189 (Tbou BeF^eet /iBe, /Dbg (5olD:=1baircD ipet DU FRAGS T MICH, DU, ME IN BLONDES LIEB. •THOU askest me, my gold-haired pet Wherefore my lips ne'er part ? Because love is abiding, In secret abiding. Within my heart. Can fire soar upwards, singing. When it toward heaven will ? It spreads its pinions high and red, So high and red, And yet so still. And even the rose is silent When opening to the light ; It glows and blooms, but says no word, But says no word Thro' the summer night. ipo SONGS. Such is my love since ever 'T was kindly met by thee ; It glows and throbs within me, Deep within me, But speechlessly. GEIBEL. B tTbousatiD Iklases, Bte Time part. VI EL TA USEND, TA USEND, KUSSE GIEB. A THOUSAND kisses, ere we part, Oh, give me, love, I pray thee ! A. thousand kisses then, sweetheart, With rapture I '11 repay thee. This earth of ours is far too great. With hills and seas unending ! Two faithful hearts they separate Whose lives might well be blending. As a little bird I 'd fain take flight, And then the breezes might carry Me far out in the moonlit night, With my gold-haired pet to tarry. And if I found her bow'd in gloom. Then I would share her sadness ; But were my rosebud bright with bloom. How I would trill with gladness ! SONGS. How, on the peaceful night, that sound Should go forth, sweetly ringing ! No nightingale could e'er be found With more delicious singing. A thousand kisses, ere we part. Oh, give me, love, I pray thee ! A thousand kisses, then, sweetheart. With rapture I '11 repay thee. GEIBEL. 193 c;be Cime of IRoses flow Ibas ffle^. VORUBER 1ST DIE ROSENZEIT. 'T'HE time of roses now has fled, The lilies now are here ; But high above them all are spread The heavens blue and clear. O rapture fraught with woe, farewell ! O brief love, thou may'st go ! Within my heart there still doth dwell A calm and peaceful glow. And since both joy and pain have sped Fair doth the world appear ; The time of roses now has fled, The lilies now are here. 194 SONGS. Z?^/? il/^/ /^r GEKOMMEN. M OW May is upon us, the blossoms all have come, Let those who so please with their cares stay at home ! As the clouds sail forth, in the heaven's unfurl'd, So I would also wander into the wide, wide world ! Dear father, dear mother, God's blessings on ye ! Who knows what the future in store has for me ! There 's many a good road that I never yet did stride. There *s many a good wine that I never yet have tried. Then up and away, thro' sunshine bright away ! Far over the mountains and where deep valleys lay ! The brooks all are singing and softly waves each tree, My heart like a lark is and joineth in the glee. G EI BEL. 19s t In the village, at evening, I enter all athirst : ' Mine host, mine host, bring a jug of good wine first, And thou, jolly fiddler, come fiddle me a song, And a tune about my sweetheart I *11 sing thee along. But if I find no shelter at night, I shall sleep 'Neath heaven's blue cover, the stars a watch will keep ; The trees, in the breeze, will lull me tenderly, At dawn, the sunlight's kiss will gently waken me. Oh ! roaming, Oh ! roaming, thou merry swain's delight ! God's breath thro' my bosom sweeps fresh from the height ! Then sings and exults towards heaven my heart, — And Oh ! thou wide wide world, how beautiful thou art! 196 SONGS. Zbc ILllies (3low jfortb Svocctl^. DIE LILIEN GLUHN IN DUFTEN. 'T'HE lilies glow forth sweetly, From the trees the blossoms sway, On the still air rises, fleetly, My dream, in bright array. And 'neath its glance, the flowers All bow their heads, — and the sigh Of the trees, and the birds in the bowers, Are hushed as it passes by. How doth this nightly hour My heart with rest imbue ! My will has lost its power, The old love stirs anew ! Methinks the heav'ns are giving Their greeting unto me ! With God and all that 's living I fain at peace would be ! GEIBEL, 197 B0 In tbe Ski2 Bppeare tbe Sun. Z)/^ SONN' HEBT AN VOM WOLKENZELT. A S in the sky appears the sun, With furtive radiance glowing, Thro' woods and meadows there doth run A trickling, purling, flowing. The ice dissolves, then melts the snow. Soon tender buds come peeping : " Ye violets," sing breezes low, " Wake, wake, now, from your sleeping." Oh ! gentle stirrings in the vales ! Oh ! Spring's sweet exhalation ! My bosom, too, the song exhales That rings through all creation ! And as the air, in wondrous wise, Grows e'er more blue before me, Strange yearnings in my soul arise, — I know not what 's come o'er me ! 198 SONGS. My breast grows wide, as though e'en now New germs were upward striving ! Art come back, youth ? Oh ! love, art thou Once more in me reviving ? GEIBEL. X99 O SCHNELLER MEIN ROSS. C\^ ! hurry my steed, be fleet, be fleet, How idly thy steps seem to tarry ; To the woods, to the woods, my burden sweet, My blissful secret to carry. On the hills, a red voluptuous glow The evening sun is flinging ; The birds who gladness, too, would know From every branch are singing. Oh ! if to soar like the lark on high To me the power were given. My great, great happiness would I Proclaim to the radiant heaven. Or could I on the storm god's wings To the dark blue ocean hurry, What deep in my bosom throbs and rings, 'Neath the silent waves I 'd bury. SONGS. No human ear shall hear my song ! On high like the lark, I can't flutter, Like the storm I cannot scurry along, And yet — my secret must utter. Then learn it, ye beeches, in yon gorge at rest ! Learn it, moon, that blinks from yon river ! She is mine ! She is mine ! My lips most blest With her burning kisses still quiver. GEIBEL. IT Cannot ffatbom mbg. ICH WEISS NICHT WIE'S GESCHIEHT. T CANNOT fathom why, Whate'er my heart may sing, Its songs incessantly With love's soft accents ring. Nor why of love's delight I ne'er can silent be, Though from its heaven bright They long since banished me. My heart then scarce can say : Is joy to come again? Or does youth's bygone day Re-echo in my strain ? IRew Sontiets* NEUE SONNETTEN. IDClbene'et Zvoo Ibearts iflBust Seven IVENN ZICH ZWEIHERZEN SCHEIDEN . \ A/HENE'ER two hearts must sever, In which love once has dwelt, 'T is a mighty grief, — and never Could mightier be felt. How sad it sounds when one must say : " Farewell, farewell forever and aye ! " Whene'er two hearts must sever, In which love once has dwelt. When first the thought came o'er me That love might pass away, I felt the sun before me Grow dark in the noon of day. 203 204 ^^^' SONNETS. My ear then echoed in wondrous way : " Farewell, farewell forever and aye ! " When first the thought came o'er me That love might pass away ! My springtime all has vanished, The cause I well divine ; For smiles and speech are banished From lips that once kissed mine. A single clear word uttered they : *' Farewell, farewell forever and aye !' My springtime all has vanished The cause I well divine. GEIBEL. ao5 ®b ! IToucb Ht mot ! O R UHRE T NICH T DA RA N. \X7HENE'ER a heart with still love glows, Oh, touch it not ! and oh, take heed Not to destroy the spark divine ! It were not wisely done indeed. If anywhere upon this earth A sacred little spot there be, It is a youthful human heart That burns with first love piously. Oh ! grudge it not this dream of spring, All wreathed about with blossoms fair ! You know not what a Paradise Would, with this dream, be lost fore'er. How many a strong heart had to break That rudely from its love was torn ! How many a patient one has turned, And thenceforth harbored hate and scorn ! ao6 NE W SONNE TS. And some, still bleeding inwardly, Cried out for new joys in their pain, And flung themselves into the mire — The beauteous God in them was slain. Then would you weep and blame yourselves ; But rueful tears will never make A withered rosebud bloom again, Nor to new life a dead heart wake. UHLAND. poems* GEDICHTE. ^be ^tnstrers Curse* DES SANGER'S FLUCH. 'T'HERE stood in by-gone ages a castle fair and grand, It gleamed upon the ocean far out across the land, Around it fragrant gardens in flowery wreaths array'd, Wherein the merry fountains in rainbow colors play'd. There sat a haughty monarch who lands and con- quests own'd, So gloomy and so pallid, that monarch sat er- thron'd. POEMS. For in his thought lies horror, and scourges in his breath, And from his eye darts fury, and from his pen flows death. Once came two noble minstrels into this castle fair, The locks of one were golden, gray was the other's hair ; A handsome steed the elder did, harp in hand, bestride, His blooming young companion walked briskly at his side. Then to the youth the elder : *' Now be prepared, my son. Think of our songs most mighty, and choose the mightiest one, Put forth thy rarest powers, both pain and bliss in- tone, That we to-day may soften the monarch's heart of stone." Now through the columned chamber the minstrels both draw nigh. The monarch and his lady are there enthroned on high ; UHLAND. The King, like lurid northlight, in awful splendor gleam'd. The Queen looked sweet and gentle, as though the full moon beam'd. The old bard swept his lyre, swept it with touch so rare. That richer, ever richer, the sound rose on the air ; Anon with heav'nly clearness the youth's voice flowed along, And like a ghostly chorus, the old bard's hollow song. They sing of love and spring-time, and blissful golden hours. Of truth, and faith, and freedom, and manhood's noblest powers ; They sing of all the rapture that e'er man's bosom blest, Of all the noble yearnings that thrill in human breast. Out of the courtiers' glances all scorn has vanished now, The King's intrepid warriors to God in homage bow, 212 POEMS. The Queen whose heart has melted, in bliss and sadness lost, Now down unto the minstrels, the rose from her breast has toss'd. " You have seduced my people, would you now lur^ my queen ? " The King all trembling cries it, and glares with fearful mien ! He hurls his sword, that, flashing, in the poor youth's breast is sheath'd. And warm blood gushes forth now, whence golden songs were breath 'd. As scattered by a whirlwind the crowd has vanished fast. Clasped to his master's bosom, the youth has breathed his last ; The master then his mantle about the dead youth throws, On the steed he binds him upright, and with him forth he goes. But sudden halts the minstrel before the portals tall, And then he grasps his lyre, — the rarest of them all— UHLAND. ai3 Against a marble pillar he dashes it in twain, And shrieks thro' house and gardens this shudder- ing refrain : **Woeis ye, lofty chambers ! Within you never- more, There shall resound the lyre, or sweet songs as of yore, But only sighs and mourning, and steps of slaves in dread. Till you lie crushed and mould'ring 'neath the avenger's tread. " Woe is ye, fragrant gardens, all bathed in May's soft light. This dead, distorted visage I hold up to your sight. That 'neath it you may wither, and all your springs run dry, O'er-spread with stones, deserted, you may for- ever lie. "Woe is thee ! impious murd'rer ! Thou curse of minstrelsy, For wreaths of bloody glory thy pains shall fruit- less be ! ai4 POEMS. Thy name shall be forgotten, sunk in eternal night, And like a last death-rattle, in empty air take flight ! " The gray old bard has cried it, the heavens hear his cry, — The chambers are demolished, the walls in ruin lie, One lofty column only, past splendor doth recall. But that is cleft and, mayhap, o'er night it-, too, will fall. Where . once stood fragrant gardens, now lies a desert land, No tree its shade is spreading, no springs ooze thro' the sand. And of the King's name speaketh nor hero's book, nor verse, — Sunk under and forgotten ! That is the minstrel's curse ! UHLAN D. Ikin^ Ikarl on tbe Sea. KONIG KARVS ME ERF A HR T, IZ ING KARL went sailing o'er the sea By his twelve knights attended ; Out to the Holy Land steered he, When swift a storm descended. Then spoke that hero bold, Roland : ** I fight and fence well, truly, But all my skill will never stand 'Gainst winds and waves unruly." Sir Holger then — from Denmark he — : ** I 've learnt to strike the lyre, But to what use, when thus the sea And storm are swelling higher?" Sir Oliver to his weapon turn'd, He too, did not look cheery : " I 'm much less for myself concern'd Than for the Alteclere." ai6 POEMS. Then says the wicked Ganelon, — His voice he slyly smothers : *' Could only I unharmed get on, The devil might take you others." Archbishop Turpin heaved a sigh : " God's cause are we defending ; Dear Saviour, o'er the sea draw nigh, Our voyage safely ending." Count Richard Fearless, then, quoth he : " Ye shades from hellish quarters, I 've served you often, now help me Away from these dread waters." Sir Naime argued in this wise : " I 've counselled many and many ; Fresh water though, and good advice On ships, there *s scarcely any. The gray Sir Riol : "Old am I, And long to battle wedded, Therefore in dry ground, when I die, I 'd have my corpse imbedded." UHLAND. Sir Guy, a dainty knight was he, And he sang forth most sweetly : " If I a little bird could be, I 'd soar to sweetheart fleetly." *' Oh, Lord," cried noble Count Garein, " Help us thro' this commotion ! I had much rather drink red wine Than water in the ocean." Sir Lambert then, a lusty youth : ** Lord, bear in mind our wishes ! I *d rather eat a fish, forsooth. Than be devour'd by fishes." Sir Gottfried, like a virtuous man. Said : " Let what will betide me, I 'm not more badly treated than My brothers all, beside me." King Karl sits at the rudder, and Not one word has he spoken ; He steers the ship with steady hand Till the tempest's force is broken. POEMS. Koung IRolanD, KLEIN ROLAND. r\AME BERTHA sat in the cave, and there Bewailed her bitter fate ; Young Roland played in the open air, His wailing was not great. ** King Karl, oh, noble brother mine, Oh, why fled I from thee ? For love did I all state resign, Now art thou wroth with me. " Oh ! Milon, sweetest consort thou, Lost in the sea's wild trough ! I cast off all for love, — and now By love I am cast off. •* Young Roland, dearest child, in thee Rest love and honor now ; Young Roland, hasten here to me, My comfort all art thou. UHLAND. 919 *' Young Roland, now go forth to town, To beg for drink and bread ; For smallest alms, God's thanks call down Upon the giver's head." King Karl sat at the board decked out In golden banquet-hall ; With dish and goblet ran about The busy servants all. Flute, harp, and song with sweetest sound All listening hearts then wooed ; But these clear tones no echoes found In Bertha's solitude. Out in the court a goodly throng Of hungry beggars stood ; Who were less pleased with harp and song Than with their drink and food. Athwart the open door, the King Looked down on this array ; When sudden, thro' the crowded ring A fair lad forced his way. POEMS. The lad's attire is strange to see, Pieced of four shades withal, But with the beggars lags not he, He looks up at the hall. As tho' he were the castle's lord Thro' the hall young Roland stalks, He lifts a dish up from the board And silent out he walks. The monarch thinks : What do I see ? To me this custom 's new. But as he calmly lets it be. The rest permit it too. A very little while went by, — Young Roland again comes up ; In haste he to the King draws nigh And grasps his golden cup. ** Halloo ! hold there, thou saucy wight ! The King's words loudly ring ; Young Roland holds the goblet tight And gazes at the King. UHLAND. The King looked fierce at first, but lo ! Ere long to smile ^-as seen : •* Thro' this gold hall thou walk'st as tho' It were the forest green. "As one plucks apples from the tree, Thou tak'st these dishes mine, Like water from the fountain free, The foam of my red wine." *' The peasants to the fountain come, From the tree pluck apples too ; But game and fish and red wine's foam, These are my mother's due." " If such grand dame thy mother be As thou, child, dost maintain, A lovely castle must have she. Also a stately train. '* Tell me who her lord steward is, And who that bears her cup ? " '* My right hand her lord steward is, My left hand bears her cup." POEMS. *' Tell me who her true warders be ? " ** My blue eyes, verily." '* Tell me who is her minstrel free ? ** ** My crimson mouth is he." " The dame, forsooth, brave servants owns. But she likes liveries queer, Whereon the multi-colored tones Like rainbows do appear." ' * Eight strong boys have I overcome In each ward of the town ; Four kinds of cloth they brought me home As ransom for my gown." *' More faithful than that dame's, I ween, Could servant never be ; No doubt she is a beggar-queen. And open house keeps she ? * ' For such high dame it were not fair Far from my court to bide ; Well then, three ladies ! Three knights there, Up ! Lead her to my side ! " UHLAND. aa3 The cup in haste doth young Roland Out from the grand hall take ; Three maids rise at the King's command, Three knights go in their wake. A very little while went by, — The King, far out looks he — When sudden, in great haste, draw nigh The lords and ladies three. " Help, Heaven ! Can I trust mine eyes?' The King cries suddenly, *' Of my own kin in scoffing wise I 've spoken publicly ! " Help Heaven ! Sister Bertha mine, In pilgrim's garments gray. With beggar's staff thro' this hall fine Thou drag'st thy weary way ! " Down at his feet then sank the dame, — Alas ! pale woman she — The old rage sudden o'er him came, He glared most furiously. POEMS. Dame Bertha's glance now quickly falls, No word she dares to say ; Young Roland lifts his gaze, and calls His uncle in accents gay. The King in mild tones thereupon : '* Arise, O sister, see, Because of this one, thy dear son, Thou shalt forgiven be." Dame Bertha rose in joyful mood : ' ' Dear brother mine, anon Young Roland shall requite the good That thou to me hast done. '* Like to his monarch he shall grow To be a hero grand, Upon his banner and shield shall glow The colors of many a land. * * Spoils from the board of many a king Shall he seize with his free hand, Anew to fame and blessings bring His sighing fatherland." FREILIGRATH. jfrediQtatb* Qb I %ovc ae Hong aa ^bou Canet %ovc I O LIEB SO LANG DU LIE BEN KANNST. r\ H ! love as long as thou canst love ! Oh ! love as long as love will last ! The hour will come, the hour will come, When, over graves, thou 'It mourn the past. And take good care to keep thy heart Aglow with love unceasingly, As long as in another breast A tender love responds to thee. To him who maketh thee his friend Oh ! show all kindness in thy power ! And let no shadow cloud his brow. But try to cheer his every hour. 227 POEMS. And keep a watch upon thy tongue. How soon an unkind word is said ; Oh, God ! it was not meant so ill ! — But now, thy friend, in tears, has fled. Oh ! love as long as thou canst love ! Oh ! love as long as love will last ! The hour will come, the hour will come, When, over graves, thou 'It mourn the past. Then wilt thou kneel upon the tomb, And in the high grass, damp and cold, Thou 'It hide thine eyes, all dim with tears, — Thy friend they '11 nevermore behold. Then wilt thou say ; Oh, look on me ! Here at thy grave, I *m weeping still ! Forgive me if I grieved thee once, — O God ! it was not meant so ill. But he can neither see nor hear, Nor rise to greet thee tenderly ; The lips that kiss'd thee, ne'er can say Oh ! long ago 1 pardoned thee. 1 FREILIGRA TH, 229 Indeed, he pardoned thee long since. But burning tears were shed before For thee and for thy cruel word, — But hush, — he sleeps, his journey 's o'er. Oh ! love as long as thou canst love ! Oh ! love as long as love will last ! The hour will come, the hour will come, When, over graves, thou 'It mourn the past. 230 POEMS. 1Re0t in tbe JBclovcD, RUHR IN DER GELIEBTEN. r\ H ! here forever let me stay, love ! Here let my resting-place e'er be ; And both thy tender palms then lay, love, Upon my hot brow soothingly. Here, at thy feet, before thee kneeling, In heav'nly rapture let me rest, And close mine eyes, bliss o'er me stealing, Within thine arms, upon thy breast. I '11 open them but to the glances That from thine own in radiance fall ; The look that my whole soul entrances, Oh ! thou who art my life, my all. I '11 open them but at the flowing Of burning tears that upward swell, And joyously, without my knowing, From under drooping lashes well. FREILIGRA TH. »3» Thus am I meek and kind and lowly, And good and gentle evermore ; I have thee — now I *m blessM wholly, I have thee — now my yearning's o'er. By thy sweet love intoxicated, Within thine arms I *m luU'd to rest. And every breath of thine is freighted With slumber-songs that soothe my breast. A life renewed each seems bestowing — Oh ! thus to lie day after day, And hearken with a blissful glowing To what each other's heart-beats say. Lost in our love, entranced, enraptured. We disappear from time and space ; We rest and dream, our souls lie captured Within oblivion's sweet embrace. 232 POEMS. ITn tbe llClooOa. IM WALDE. 'T'HROUGH the woods, when dim they 're grown My lone path I wend ; No voice sounds — the trees alone Softest whispers send. Oh ! how wide then grows my breast, And my mind how bright ! Tales I loved in childhood best Rise before my sight. Yes, this is a magic haunt ! All that it doth breed,— Stone and flowers, beast and plant, — Is bewitched indeed. In the sun, on leaves of gold. Coiled, as in a ring, Musing there, a snake is roll'd, Daughter of a King. FREILIGRA TH. In the dark pool over there, Where the doe has drunk, Lies her palace, high and fair, 'Neath the water sunk. And the king, his consort dear, All their retinue, Also many a cavalier, Those depths hide from view. And the hawk, who 's e'er at hand, Poising o'er the dell, Is the sorcerer, whose wand Weaves this magic spell. Were the word revealed to me To undo this charm. She at once redeemed should be Clasp'd within my arm. From the serpent's skin she 'd rise Crowned radiantly, Thanks on lips, and in her eyes, Sweet timidity. 134 POEMS. From the pool then would emerge Straight, the castle old ; While upon its banks would surge Troops of warriors bold. With her king, the ancient queen Then would greet our sight ; 'Neath a velvet baldachin Would they sit, while tree-tops green Trembled with delight. And the hawk, whom gently now Clouds and breeze caress, In the dust should be laid low, Crush'd and powerless. Sylvan-gladness, sylvan-rest ! Fairy-visions bright ! Oh ! how you refresh my breast. And my rhymes invite ! RUCKERT. IRucftert* ir %ovc c:bee, tor 't is ^bce, Dear, ir /IBuet Xove! /CH LIEBE DICH WEIL ICH DICH LIEBEN MUSS. T LOVE thee, for 't is thee, dear, I must love, I love thee, dear, for I must needs love thee, I love thee by decree of heav'n above, I love thee 'neath the spell of sorcery ! 'T is thee I love, as loves its bush the rose, As loves the sun the light which he doth give, 'T is thee I love, for thy breath in me glows, 'T is thee I love, for in that love I live ! 238 POEMS. Zhc IFlidbttndale. DIE NA CH TIG A LL. A S nightingale, at nightfall A home on earth I found ; My young heart soon acquired, By sorrow's strength inspired. Its song's melodious sound. But gloomy was the thicket Wherein I dwelt alone ; No master there to teach me, No hearer's praise could reach me, My songs remained unknown. 'T is true, I dreamed that yonder, A brilliant world must be ; I longed but once to see it. And then fore'er to flee it, — That was not granted me. RUCKERJ. 239 But then there came a spirit To show me life, at last, And now, — by life surrounded, I 'd leave it, for I *ve found it A cage that holds me fast. Why do we never value Our blessings till they 're o'er ? Who will, through life's delusion, Lead me, to the seclusion Of my dear woods, once more ? MORICKE. /IDoericfte^ Bn 1bour i6re J5reak ot Da^. ^/iV STUNDLEIN WOHL VOR TA G. A S I once sleeping lay, An hour ere break of day, Sang near the window, on a tree, A little bird— scarce heard by me- An hour ere break of day. " Give heed to what I say : Thy sweetheart false doth play, Whilst I am singing this to thee, He hugs a maiden, cosily, An hour ere break of day." **Alas ! no further say ! Hush ! I '11 not hear thy lay ! Fly off, away fly from my tree, — Ah ! love and faith are mockery, An hour ere break of day." 2^3 CHAMISSO. «45 Cbamisso^ Moman's 1Lov>e an^ Xifc, FRA UENLIEBE UND LEBEN, qINCE mine eyes beheld him ^ Blind, methinks, I 've grown, Wheresoe'er I turn them, Him I see alone ! O'er me floats his image As in waking dreams, Thro* the deepest darkness Brighter still it gleams. 247 848 All else that surrounds me Gloomy is, and bare ; For my sisters* pastimes I no longer care. Rather in my chamber Would I weep alone — Since mine eyes beheld him Blind, methinks, I 've grown ! II. He, the lordliest of all mortals, He so gentle, he so kind ! Sweetest lips and brightest glances. Valor firm, and lucid mind ! As from azure depths there glitters Bright and glorious yonder star, Thus shines he down from my heaven, Bright and glorious, high and far. Wander, wander, in thy orbit, Let me but thy radiance see, Let me meekly but behold it, — Blessed then, and sad I '11 be. CHAMISSO. Take no heed of my still prayer. Offered for thy happiness, Durst not know thy humble servant, Thou high star of lordliness ! For thy choice must honor only Her, who 's worthiest of all, On that lofty maid my blessings Many thousand times should fall. Then I '11 weep, but I '11 be happy ! Blessed, blessM then my lot. And although my heart be breaking, — Break, oh, heart ! it matters not ! III. I cannot grasp or believe it. My soul by a dream has been sway'd ! How could he have, over all others. Exalted and bless'd me, poor maid ? It seemed as though he had spoken : '* I am thine through eternity ! " It seemed — oh ! still I am dreaming, For thus it never can be. POEMS. Oh ! let me thus dreaming expire, As on his bosom I sink ! In tears of unspeakable rapture The happiest death there to think. \\> 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED LOAN DEPT. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. ^'^fin w '.lAUlO b-J j