WAGNER'S p LIBRARY UNIVERSITY 9f CAUFORNIA SAN DIEGO 5 THE FLYING DUTCHMAN : BY WAGNER RETOLD BY OLIVER HUCKEL BOOKS BY DR. HUCKEL THROUGH ENGLAND WITH TENNYSON A pilgrimage to places associated with the great Laureate (Profusely illustrated, cloth, $2.00 net) MENTAL MEDICINE Some practical suggestions for everyday health (Cloth, $1.00 net) SPIRITUAL SURGERY Some pointed analogies between body and soul (Cloth, 75 cents net) THE MELODY OF GOD'S LOVE A new interpretation of the Twenty-third Psalm (Cloth, 75 cents net) WAGNER'S MUSIC-DRAMAS Retold in English verse RIENZI RHEINGOLD FLYING DUTCHMAN WALKURE TANNHAUSER SIEGFRIED LOHENGRIN GOTTERDAMMERUNG TRISTAN PARSIFAL DIE MEISTERSINGER VON NURNBERG RICHARD WAGNER : THE MAN AND HIS WORK (Each, cloth, 75 cents net. Limp leather, $1.25 net) THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY DALANO'S DEPARTURE. A - DRAMATIC - POEM BY RICHARD WAGNER- FREELY- TRANSLATED- IN POETIC NARRATIVE - FORM BY ^ucftei . Crotoell Company PUBLISHERS NEW YORK CONTENTS FOREWORD Page ix PART I The Phantom Ship 3 PART II A Woman's Love 17 PART III The Troth of Death 39 ILLUSTRATIONS Daland's Departure Frontispiece Senta at the Spinning-wheel Facing pae e 18 The Death of Senta 53 FOREWORD AGNER had written two acts of his Rienzi, his imagination was on fire, and he resolved to go to Paris and I storm the Grand Opera, feeling sure that something must come of it. He set sail in a small vessel from Pillau on the Baltic with his young wife and a great dog. They were blown about the Baltic for three weeks in a terrific storm, and put into a desolate Norwegian har- bor for shelter. On that tempestuous voyage there came to its fulness of conception the theme of The Flying Dutchman, of which he was al- ready thinking. He wrote : "Three times we suf- fered from the effect of heavy storms. The pas- sage through the Narrows made a wondrous impression on my fancy. The legend of The Fly- ing Dutchman was confirmed by the sailors, and the circumstances gave it a distinct and characteristic color in my mind." The legend is an old one, much older than the story which those daring Dutch navigators of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries had some- how made their own. It is a mediaeval version of Ulysses, "the unresting traveller, yearning for home and domestic joys." It is a maritime version of Ahasuerus, the Wandering Jew, "ac- cursed and hopeless of all save the end in ob- livion." The Kundryof Parsifal, who came later, is another variation of the theme of one con- demned to perpetual wandering and weary ex- istence. But the Dutch, who were masters of the sea and to whom the water was a favorite element, ix adopted the venerable legend which seemed to 11)0 I'D * nem to em body "forever the avenging vision of men who, resolved to win, had so often dared and lost all." It was typical u of their own battles with the powers of old ocean, and their deter- mination to conquer at all hazards." Wagner was first interested in the legend as he read it in Heine's story, The Memoirs of Herr von Schnabelewopski. Wagner makes a note, he was a young musician at Riga at the time, as follows : " Heine takes occasion to relate the story in speaking of the representation of a play founded thereon which he had witnessed, as I believe, at Amsterdam. This subject fascinated me, and made an indelible impression upon my fancy; still, it did not as yet acquire the force needful for its rebirth within me." But the force needful for the rebirth evidently came in that stormy voyage on the Baltic. An early version of the legend was printed in Blackwood's Magazine for May, 1821, and is supposed to be the source from which came the play to which Heine refers. It ran thus: "She was an Amsterdam vessel and sailed from port seventy years ago. Her master's name was Van der Decken. He was a staunch seaman, and would have his own way in spite of the devil. For all that, never a sailor under him had rea- son to complain ; though ho wit is on board with them nobody knows. The story is this: that in doubling the Cape they were a long day try- ing to weather Table Bay. However, the wind headed them and went against them more and more, and Van der Decken walked the deck, x swearing at the wind. Just after sunset a ves- sel spoke him, asking him if he did not mean to go into the Bay that night. Van der Decken replied : ' May I be eternally damned if I don't, though I should beat about here till the Day of Judgment.' And to be sure he never did go into that Bay, for it is believed that he continues to beat about in these seas still, and will do so long enough. This vessel is never seen but with foul weather along with her." This story reminds us of an American legend of the Hudson, related by Washington Irving in his early tales of the Dutch in New Amster- dam, of which legend there is still a reminder in Spuyten Duyvil Creek. It also brings Cole- ridge's Ancient Mariner to mind. That mariner is under a curse and must "pass like night from land to land." Recall the description of his vessel : "'Strange, by my faith,' the Hermit said 'And they answer'd not our cheer! The planks look warped ! and see those sails, How thin they are and sere! I never saw aught like to them Unless perchance it were Brown skeletons of leaves.'" Wilhelm Hauff has also told a weird tale of the phantom ship "Carmilhan," in which the doomed seafarers sing a most sad and weary song, like that in The Flying Dutchman. The story closes with the words: "The whole pro- cession marched away in the same order in which it had come, and with the same solemn xi jf Off- song, which grew fainter and fainter in the dis- tance until finally it was lost in the roar of the breakers." Although Wagner obtained the germ of the story from Heine, yet he gave it a distinct and splendid mintage of his own. This is what it meant to him. He writes: "The figure of The Flying Dutchman is a mythical creation of the folk. A primal trait of human nature speaks out from it with a heart-enthralling force. This trait in its most universal meaning is the longing for rest after the storms of life. The sea in its turn became the soil of life; yet no longer the land-locked sea of the Grecian world, but the great ocean that engirdles the earth. The fet- ters of the older world were broken ; the long- ing of Ulysses for home and hearth and wedded life, until it became a yearning for death, had mounted to the craving for a new and unknown home, invisible as yet, but dimly boded. This broader feature fronts us in the mythos of The Flying Dutchman, that seaman's poem of the world-historical age of journeys of discovery. Here we light upon a remarkable mixture, a blend effected by the spirit of the folk, of the character of Ulysses with that of the Wander- ing Jew. The Hollandic mariner, in punishment for his temerity, is condemned by the Devil (here obviously the element of flood and storm) to do battle with the unresting waves to all eternity. Like Ahasuerus, he yearns for his suf- ferings to be ended by death. The Dutchman, however, may gain this redemption, denied to the undying Jew, at the hands of a woman who xii of very love shall sacrifice herself for him. The yearning for death thus spurs nhim on to seek this woman; but she is no longer the home- tending Penelope of Ulysses, as courted in the days of old, but the quintessence of Woman- kind; and yet the still unmanifest, the longed- for, the dreamt-of, the infinitely womanly, let me out with it in one word, 'The Woman of the Future.'" Wagner wrote his poem of The Flying Dutch- man in a libretto sketch and offered it to the director of the Paris Opera, who liked it, had it translated into French, and then coolly gave it to another composer to set to music, who did so in a manner which caused it to fail com- pletely when it was produced. But meanwhile Wagner himself had been working on it, and in the spring of 1841 he moved to a cottage at Meudon, near Paris, and here in seven weeks he completed the poem and the music of the whole opera except the overture. It was a great joy to him to find that he could thus produce even in the midst of his troubles. Here is a bit of his autobiography on this point: "I had now to work post-haste to clothe my own subject with German verses. In order to set about its composition I required to hire a piano-forte; for, after nine months' interruption of all musi- cal production, I had to try to surround myself with the needful preliminary of a musical at- mosphere. As soon as the piano had arrived, my heart beat fast for very fear; I dreaded to discover that I had ceased, to be a musician. I began first with the Sailors' Chorus and the xiii Spinning Song. Everything sped along as on lUOl'D wings, and I shouted for joy as I felt within me that I was still a musician." But neither of these new operas, Rienzi nor The Flying Dutchman, was acceptable to Paris. The Grand Opera would have nothing to do with them. So Wagner despatched his scores to Germany. Munich and Leipzig both declined the new work as "unfit for Germany." But finally Dresden accepted Rienzi, and after that had proved a success, it accepted The Flying Dutchman. The latter, however, first performed at the Royal Saxon Court Theatre on January 2, 1843, was not very cordially received. It was evidently too serious for popular favor. It had not "the glittering processions, splendid scen- ery andgrouping,andimposingaction,"coupled with brilliant music, that characterized Rienzi. Dresden did not give it again for twenty years, but meanwhile it was given at Berlin in 1844, and here Wagner received some encourage- ment. He wrote later: "From Berlin, where I was entirely unknown, I received from two ut- ter strangers who had been attracted towards me by the impression which The Flying Dutch- man had produced on them, the first complete satisfaction which I have been permitted to en- joy, with the invitation to continue in the par- ticular directions I had marked out. From this moment I lost more and more from sight the variable public. The opinion from a few intelli- gent men took the place in my mind of the opin- ion of the masses which can never be wholly apprehended, although it had been the object xiv of my labor in my first attempts, when my eyes were not yet open to the light." The drama was not given in England until 1870, and even then in an Italian version, L' Olandese Dannato. We see clearly that The Flying Dutchman was another distinct step in Wagner's development Even more than Rienzi, it began to assume the form of a music-drama, rather than a mere opera. Wagner wrote of it that here he shook off the last prejudices still clinging to him from the time when he composed merely for musical instruments, and he now attained the definite- ness of the drama. Again he asserted: "With The Flying Dutchman began my new career as a poet ; I was now no longer a writer of operatic libretti. Henceforward in my dramatic capacity I was in the first place a poet; not until the poem came to be fully worked out, did I again become a musician. But as a poet I fully divined the power which music possessed for enforcing my words." He meant that now at last he had begun to find himself both as musician and poet. Rienzi was his first musical work of unique and worthy character, and The Flying Dutchman was his first great poetical achievement The music of the first act of The Flying Dutch- man has been called most picturesque and weird. The atmosphere of the North Sea breathes through the whole drama. One can distinctly hear "the shrilling of the north wind, the roar- ing of the waves, the breaking of cordage, the banging of booms, an uncanny sound on a dismal night at sea."The Sailors' Chorus is fine, bright, and tuneful. The Spinning Song is a xv ;f 0CC2 popular melody with a pure lyric grace about ifc< Two distinct themes are heard in the drama : the theme of eternal unrest, sometimes called the damnation motif of the captain, and the theme of self-sacrifice, which may be called the salvation motif of the bride. These are the germs of what later became Wagner's leit motif system in music. Mr. W. J. Henderson has given a careful characterization thus: "Wagner divined clearly the necessity of sub- ordinating mere pictorial movements to the play of emotion, and it will easily be discerned that the three acts of The Flying Dutchman reduced themselves to a few broad emotional episodes. In the first our attention is centred upon the longing of the Dutchman, and in the second upon the love of Senta. In the third we have the inevitable and hopeless struggle of the passion of Erik against Senta's love. All music not designed to embody these broad emotional states is scenic, such as the storm music and choruses of the sailors and the women." Wagner's conception of the story seems to be, as H. R. Haweis puts it: "Immense unhappi- ness drawn by magnetic attraction to immense love, tried by heart-rending doubt and uncer- tainty, and crowned with fidelity and trium- phant love, the whole embodied in a clear, sim- ple story, summed up in a few situations of ter- rible strength and inexorabletruth this is The Flying Dutchman." But a still finer summary of the story in fresh and picturesque language is given in Wagner's own comment on the over- xvi ture, which is in itself a magic and tempestu- f orc ous foreword to the drama. Wagner's explana- tion is as follows, and is a capital example of his vigorous prose style: "Driven along by the fury of the gale, the terrible ship of The Flying Dutchman approaches the shore, and reaches the land, where its captain has been promised he shall one day find salvation and deliverance. We hear the compassionate tones of this sav- ing promise which affects us like prayers and lamentations. Gloomy in appearance and be- reft of hope, the doomed manislisteningtothem also. Weary and longing for death, he paces the strand, while his crew, worn out and tired of life, are silently employed in making all taut on board. How often has he, ill-fated, already gone through the same scene ! How often has he steered his ship on ocean's billows to the inhabited shores on which, at each seven years' truce, he has been permitted to land ! H o w many times has he fancied he has reached the limit of his torment, and alas ! how repeatedly has he, terribly undeceived, been obliged to betake himself again to his wild wanderings at sea! In order that he may secure release by death he has made common cause in his anguish with the flood and tempests against himself; he has driven his ship into the gaping gulf of the billows, yet the gulf has not swallowed it up ; through the surf of the breakers he has steered it upon the rocks, yet the rocks have not broken it in pieces. All the terrible dangers of the sea, at which he once laughed in his wild eagerness for energetic action, now mock at him. They do xvii f orfc: him no injury. Under a curse he is doomed to Hi orb wander o'er ocean's wastes, forever in quest of treasures which fail to reanimate him, and with- out finding that which alone can redeem him ! Swiftly a smart-looking ship sails by him ; he hears the jovial familiar song of its crew as re- turning from a voyage they make jolly on their nearing home. Enraged at their merry humor, he gives chase, and coming up with them in the gale, so scares and terrifies them, that they become mute in their fright and take to flight. From the depth of his terrible misery he shrieks out for redemption ; in his horrible banishment from mankind it is a woman alone that can bring him salvation. Where and in what country tar- ries his deliverer? Where is there a feeling heart to sympathize with his woes? Where is she who will not turn away from him in horror and fright, like those cowardly fellows who in their terror hold up the cross at his approach? A lurid light now breaks through the darkness; like lightning it pierces his tortured soul. It vanishes, and again beams forth. Keeping his eye upon his guiding star, the sailor steers toward it over waves and floods. What is it that so powerfully attracts him, but the gaze of a woman, who, full of sublime sadness and divine sympathy, is drawn towards him ! A heart has opened its lowest depths to the awful sorrows of this ill-fated one ; it cannot but sacrifice it- self for his sake, and breaking in sympathy for him, annihilate itself in his woes. The unhappy one is overwhelmed by this divine appearance ; his ship is broken in pieces and swallowed up xviii in the gulf of the billows ; but he, saved and jporf ^ exalted, emerges from the waves, with his vie- ^i orD torious deliverer at his side, and ascends to Heaven, led by the rescuing hand of sublimest love." OLIVER HUCKEL May, 1914 PART I: THE PHANTOM SHIP THE PHANTOM SHIP STEEP and rocky cove on Norway's coast, That fairy-haunted land where deep fiords Pierce to the heart of mountains strong and mighty, Where curling mists creep round the lofty cliffs That tower so vast that those who upward gaze Feel but as atoms in infinity ; Where mountain summits higher rise, and gla- ciers That glance and flash in crystal floods of light ; While fairest vales of green in beauty hide Between the frowning cliffs and lofty moun- tains; Where laughing waterfalls and pouring tor- rents A thousand feet of misty floods fling down. To-day the headlands darken with a storm, The clouds hang full and heavy on the moun- tains With lowering tempest. Near the shore a barque, Norwegian from her build and dim-seen flag, Has cast her anchor, and the busy sailors With shouts are furling sails and coiling ropes. The captain of the ship has gone ashore, And, standing on a high rock, landward gazed, To learn perchance what region they have reached. The sailors sang: "Yeho! yeho! Land ho!" The captain shouted: "On board there, how goes it?" 3 The helmsman answered : "Captain, all is well! An( * we are on a safe anc * holding ground." "Ay," spake the captain, "it is Sandwyk- Strand. Full well I know the waters of this bay. Far off upon that shore I see my home, Senta, my child, I fancy in my arms. She waits and watches for me even now! Until this blast from devil's depths blew forth! Who trusts the wind, trusts all the craft of Hell! What hope but this, the tempest will not last, When thus it rages, soon its wrath is spent. Yeho ! my sailor lads ! you Ve braved the storm ; Now, take it easy, for the worst is o'er! And, gallant helmsman, take the watch for me While down below I seek an hour of rest Danger is fled, yet still keep sharp lookout!" With cheery voice the helmsman answered him: "Rely on me! Rest easy, captain mine." And as he watched and steered he gaily sang A happy sailor-song of long ago : H ROUGH tempest and storm from V_JL far-off seas, My darling, draw I near! O'er billows blown by the southern breeze, My darling, am I here ! My darling, if there were no South wind, Ne'er could I come to thee; 4 O dear South wind, to me be kind, My darling she longs for me ! Yeho! yeho! My lads, yeho! Yeho land hallo I Yeho! "From the southern shores, from the far-off lands, On thee oft have I thought! Through thunder and waves from the Moor- ish strands A gift to thee have I brought. My darling, praise the sweet South wind, I bring thee a golden ring, O dear South wind, to me be kind, My darling doth spin and sing. Yeho ! yeho ! My lads, yeho ! Yeho land hallo! Yeho!" And as he sang, far-off a ship appeared, A strange and uncouth hull of antique bulk, Her sails were blood-red, her tall masts were black, And in a deadly silence drew she near, Piercing the curtained blackness of the night, Until she hove to by the Norwegian, Laying alongside almost hull to hull. What could this queer craft be, so weirdly built? Perchance that ship men called "The Flying Dutchman," Whose legend was in every sailor's heart? That reckless mariner, who boldly swore To reach his port in spite of Heaven or Hell. Now, for his blasphemy, he sails the seas 5 Forevermore, and never reaches port, phantom And never can attain to welcome death Until some loving woman gives her life In willing sacrifice for his redemption. But as the years go on his heart is bitter, For none will love him. Oft upon the deck Headlong he flings himself in black despair. Now, hark ! for there the captain of the craft Is speaking. There he stands upon his deck ! Forsooth some sorrow of his long-pent heart Finds words in heavy sadness and despair. Yea, listen now, for he is moaning forth His clearly heard soliloquy of gloom: "The time is up, and once again is ended Another term of seven dreary years ! The weary sea casts me upon the strand. Ha, haughty ocean ! it will not be long Before thy waves shall bear me once again. Thou changest, but unchanging is my fate. The saving help which on the land I seek Will nevermore be found. To thee, O sea, Flowingthe wide world round, shall I be bound, Until thy last great billow breaks in foam And the vast flood has vanished evermore. How often have I longed to find a grave Engulfed within the ocean's deepest depths, But nay! the face of death could not be found ! How often have I rushed my eager ship Upon the rocks to find the wished-for end, But nay! there was no tomb among the rocks. Full oft I boldly sought the pirate's sword In wildest conflict, hoping for my death: 'Here!' cried I, 'show thy prowess and thy might, 6 My ship is freighted with all treasure-store!' But nay ! the greedy sea's barbarian son In horror crossed himself, and took to flight ! For me no grave! For me no hope of death! Such is the law accurst that holds my doom. I pray thee, now, O angel bright from Heaven, Who won for me unlooked-for help and grace, Was I the unhappy victim of thy sport, When thou didst show to me the way of peace? Ah, fruitless hope! Illusion fond and false! For faithful love dwells on the earth no more. Only a single hope is left to me, Only one wish still flutters in my breast : It is that this old earth, though still it whirls, Some day must end its course in utter ruin. O day of judgment, youngest, latest day, When wilt thou dawn and quench my endless night? When draws it nigh, that final, awful crash" In which the whole vast universe is lost? When all the dead are raised again to life Then death, sweet death, shall come to me at last! Ye worlds, oh, haste and end your whirling course And bring me endless rest in welcome death!" Now as the captain wailed in piteous tone, For dark despair enthralled him utterly, The strange crew of his craft reechoed him : "And bring us endless rest in welcome death !" The Norway captain grimly saw and heard ; But all unconscious of the craft and speech 7 His helmsman grasped the rudder, humming phantom low - ^e ca P tain called : " Yeho, my helmsman, ho!" And straight he spake : "Ay, ay, sir ! all is well !" And to his song again addressed himself: " O dear South wind, to me be kind, My darling" Again the captain called : " Dost thou see naught? Zounds! Thou art keeping sharp lookout, my mate! There lies a ship! How long hast thou been sleeping? " He gazed astonished at the phantom ship. Whence had it come, and how, without asound ? He felt uncanny and ripped out an oath: "By the devil! 't is so ! Forgive me, captain mine! Ahoy, yon ship! Ahoy, ahoy, I say!" But they returned no answer and no sign, And with a laugh the Norway captain said : "They seem as slow and dead as we are here !" Again the helmsman called : " Ahoy, I say ! Answer ! Whence, whither, tell me what 's your flag?" But quick his captain held him with the words : "Forbear ! I see the captain on the deck. Ahoy, good seaman ! What 's thy ship, and land?" And the strange captain answered with a sigh : " Far have I come! Wouldst thou in this fierce weather Drive me from anchorage into the storm?" He spake: "Nay, God forbid! The mariner 8 Loves well good fellowship. But what 's thy name?" $f)antom With curious tone he cried : " I am a Dutch- man." But as he spoke, he seemed to stand aloft In greater form and nobleness withal. Tall, dark, and dignified, a handsome man, Full bearded, and with black and piercing eyes. A dark hat with a broad and flowing brim, A Spanish mantle trailing from his shoulders, A gentleman, a scholar, and a captain, And round him shone the silver of the moon- light. The Norway captain spake : " Be welcome, then ! The fierce storm drove thee to this rock-bound coast. I fared no better, though a few leagues hence My home awaits me, and my one fair daughter, Pride of my heart and light of my dear home. adverse winds ! Now must I once again Set forth to reach my hearth. But tell me, pray, Whence comest thou? What damage hast thou met?" And the weird Dutchman answered with a laugh : "My ship is sound, no damage can it suffer. Though storms may rage and wildest winds may blow, 1 wander scathless o'er the watery wastes. How long? That can I scarce relate to thee, Since I no longer count the passing years. Nor could I name for thee, if thou shouldst ask it, 9 The list of lands where I have been in port, pliantom That land alone for which I dearly long, * cannot find, my own dear native shore. Oh, grant to me a little while thy home, And of thy friendship thou shalt not repent. With treasures brought from every clime and zone My ship is richly laden. Wilt thou share Thy humble roof with me, and give me rest, Just one sweet taste of home and sheltered peace, I '11 make thee sharer of my treasure-store." Quick spake the Norway captain: "Strange it sounds ! How can I well believe thy wondrous words? A baleful star has followed thy sad life ; Would I might serve thee, bless thee, if I can. Yet, dare I ask, what treasures brings thy ship?" Smiled gently the Dutch captain as he said : "The rarest treasures I shall show to thee, Most precious pearls, and stones of royal cost. Behold them, and know well their priceless worth, All these I offer for thy friendly roof." And at a sign his men brought forth a chest Full of fair silks and satins, rubies, pearls, And emeralds, and gold in rings and bracelets. With blank amaze the Norway captain cried : "What! Is it possible? Such costly treasures ! Who has the price to purchase such rare gems?" But eagerly the Dutchman answered him : 10 "The price? The price already have I named, All these for shelter for a single night ! Nay, what thou seest only is small part Of all the treasure in my vessel's hold. What use my treasures to me? For no wife, Nor child, nor home, nor native land is mine. So all my riches will I share with thee, If thou wilt share with me thy humble home." The Norway captain mused: "Can it be true?" Again the Dutchman asked: "Hast thou a daughter? I think I heard thee mention thy fair daughter." He made reply: "I have, and dear to me." Then cried the Dutchman, for a secret hope Had risen in his heart that here, at last, Might be the destined fair deliverer: "A wife I long for. Let her be my bride." The Norway captain mused in joyous thought: "How! Heard I right? My daughter for his bride ! 'T is from deep gratitude his offer comes. Much do I fear, unless I close with him, That he as suddenly may change his mind. Scarce know I whether I 'm awake or dream, Most welcome such a splendid son-in-law! Mad would I be such fortune to refuse, Full charmed will I accept his happy terms." Most wistfully the Dutchman spake to him, Flaunting again the treasures of his coffers: "Alas, I have no wife, nor child, nor hearth, Nothing to bind me to this weary world. Relentless fate pursues my bitter life. The curse, the curse, is ever at my heels. ii Never shall I reach home or native land, phantom What good to me my jewels and my gold I Come, give thy daughter to me as a bride, And all my untold wealth shall be thine own." But still in doubt the Norwegian held off, And spake aloud the hesitating words : "Yea, stranger, fair and lovely is my daughter And gives her father all a true child's love ; She is my pride, the best of my possessions, In grief my comfort, and in mirth my joy." More eagerly the smiling Dutchman spake : "Always her father shall receive her love, If true to him, true to the man she weds." The Norway captain shook his head and said : "Thou givest jewels and most precious pearls. The rarest treasure is a faithful wife " "Thou givest me?" he asked most tenderly. "Yea," said the other; "here I pledge my word. I mourn thy fate. So generous thou art. I have discerned thy noble heart and soul. I want thee for my son. And were thy wealth Not half so great, no other would I choose!" "I thank thee," cried the Dutchman, "from my heart. And shall I my fair bride behold to-day?" "The next good wind," he said, "shall bear us home, Then thou shalt see her. If she pleases thee " "She shall be mine!" he cried with eagerness. "The angel to absolve me from my fate ! When out of torment's hard unceasing toil My heart has longed for saving peace and rest, To me 't was given to cling with desperate courage 12 To one faint hope that ever with me dwelt. Dare I in this fair fancy now to revel, That such sweet angel shall release me soon? And after this tormenting ceaseless anguish I shall attain at last to peace and rest? Ah ! all but hopeless though I seem to be, Yet does my heart still cling to this one hope!" Most cordially the Norway captain spake: "Praised be the storm that drove me on this strand ! Forsooth, at first I did my fate bewail, But now I thank the tempest and the waves That brought us here together to this coast. Yea, any father might in truth rejoice In such a son-in-law, such lucky fate. With this dear son of wealth and noble heart I gladly share my daughter and my home!" And now the storm has ceased and winds are fair. The helmsman's voice is singing the old song: "O dear South wind, to me be kind!" While all the sailors shout: "Yeho! yeho!" Spake the Norwegian: "See, thy luck has turned ! The wind is fair, the sea is calm and bright. We'll hoist the anchor, set the billowing sails, And reach my happy home this very day!" Again the sailors' chantry sounded out: "Yeho! yeho! My lads, yeho! Yeho! and hallo! Yeho!" The Dutchman spake : " If I might but suggest, Lead thou the course. The wind is fresh and fair. 13 Qt f)C My crew are weary ; I will let them rest ; Phantom Then m a little while, I '11 follow on." The other asked: "But if the wind should change?" He answered : " Nay, this wind will steady blow. 'T is from the faithful South, both fair and strong. My ship is swift. 'T will overtake thee soon." Quoth he : " Forsooth, thy ship must make good speed. Farewell! To-day thou may'st my daughter see!" And with a joyous cry, he spake : "God grant!" So the fair Norway craft put out to sea, While her proud captain scanned his ship and cried : "Yeho! how quick the winds have filled the sails! Yeho ! my sailor lads, come, work away!" And as they worked their hearty voices sang: H ROUGH tempest and storm from far-off seas, My darling, draw I near ! O'er billows blown by the southern breeze, My darling, am I here ! My darling, if there were no South wind, Ne'er could I come to thee; O dear South wind, to me be kind, My darling she longs for me! Yeho ! yeho ! My lads, yeho ! Yeho! and hallo! Yeho!" PART II: A WOMAN'S LOVE A WOMAN'S LOVE GREAT room in the Norway cap- tain's home, Captain Daland his name, an hon- ored name Through all the coast of Norway and afar. For many years has he the deep sea followed, Knows well the perils of the Northern main, The howling storms and all their fierce sea- children, The black sea-gulls that beat the hurtling winds. He knows the drifting perils of the icebergs, And all the anger of the hidden reefs. His good ship oft has fought the desperate gale, And oft escaped the lure of storm-tossed head- lands And singing surges beating on the cliffs. High o'er the sounding sea his craft has sped Full many a league, fierce driven by the fiends Of awful whirlwinds near the dreaded mael- strom, " O Christ! he cried, "be near and steer me straight 1" But ever after all the storms of life Here in this home has he found peace and rest, Among his books and friends, by his own fire- side. Maps, charts, and sea-views line the captain's walls, And in the midst a portrait strange and weird, Painted long years ago, and bought by him On one of his far voyages to Holland. 17 The visage of a man with handsome face, 3 ^ ut P a ^ e anc * sa< ^' as ^ enthralled of fate ; * s black, his cloak of Spanish cut Fair Senta sat and gazed long at the portrait As if a secret spell was on her soul, While all the maidens spinning at theirwheels, Her gay companions for the afternoon, Fair maidens, rosy cheeked, with golden hair In circling braids, like crowns around their heads, And bright blue eyes, sparkling with innocence, Their dainty garments, simple, pure, and sweet, Their bodices and slippers quaint and neat, The pride and gladness of Old Norway's strand, Sang merrily this cheery spinning song: and buzz, good wheel awhirl- ing, Lively, lovely dance around ! Spin, a thousand threads a-twirling, Let the pleasant music sound! My sweetheart sails the ocean o'er, For home he sighs And dear one's eyes. My faithful wheel, oh, rush and roar! Ah, if thy breeze But ruled the seas, *T would soon my love to me restore! Maidens spinning, Din, din, din! Sweethearts winning, Spin, spin, spin!" 18 SENTA AT THE SPINNING-WHEEL. Then up spake good dame Mary, her old nurse, ^fl. Mistress of all the sisters of the distaff: "Just see! how busy every wheel is flying! Such industry must surelywinus sweethearts!" But quick they cried together in reproof: "Dame Mary, pray be still! for well you know Our spinning song is not yet at an end! " She laughed, and answered them with spark- ling eyes : "Sing on! stop not your wheels for all the world! But, Senta, dear, why dost thou silent sit While all the rest are singing at their wheels?" And once again their voices sweetly sang : "*Tp=*:UM and buzz, good wheel awhirl- Jk JL ing, Canter, gallop, dance around ! Spin, a thousand threads a-twirling, Turn, good wheel, with humming sound! On distant seas my love doth sail. In southern lines Much gold he mines. Turn, turn, my wheel, nor tire nor fail! The gold he wins For her who spins ! Her ears shall hear his loving tale! Spin, spin! Busy maiden I Hum, wheel, Music-laden!" Still watching the fair Senta, as she gazed Upon the painting, Mary smiling spake : 19 ?i lOo "Thou naughty child, if thou dost do no spin- man'0 ning, not But all the maidens laughed and gaily spake: "There is no need for her to toil and spin, Her lover does not sail the stormy main, 'Tislusciousgame, instead of gold, he brings. One quickly learns a happy huntsman's worth!" And the arch Mary added: "Look at her! Always before that painting ! Senta, child, Art thou to dream away thy girlhood's life Just gazing at that visage of a man?" But Senta answered her in quiet mood : "Why hast thou told me of his many sorrows? I learned from thee his hapless fate, poor soul!" Quoth Mary softly: "God be with thee, girl!" And others cried: "Alas! what do we hear? Her sighs are for this pale and phantom man !" Moaned Mary: "Her poor head is sore dis- traught!" Another spake: "What power a picture has!" And Mary added in a lower tone : " Useless it seems, though I should chide each day. Come, Senta, turn thy pretty eyes toward us." But Senta moved not, and they whispered fast : "She does not hear or mind thee, she's en- thralled ! Alack ! This may turn out a sad affair! You know how hot and jealous Erik is, 20 He scarce can bear an insult or a slight. 3U Say naught, lest blinded by a jealous rage, He shoot this hated rival on the wall." Stirred to the quick, poor Senta fiercely cried : " Now cease your foolish jesting, empty heads, My temper is fast reaching breaking point." So they desisted and once more they sang: "Hum and buzz, good wheel awhirling, Canter, gallop, dance around! Spin, a thousand threads a-twirling, Turn, good wheel, with humming sound ! " Spake Senta with a weird look in her eyes : "Enough now of this endless spinning song. Its hum and buzz weary these ears of mine. If you would bring me to your way of thought, You must seek out a better song than that!" They cried : "Good, sing a better song thyself! " She answered: "Nay, much rather would I hear Dame Mary sing that ballad that I love." Quoth Mary: "God forbid ! no ballad for me! 'T is time to let 'The Flying Dutchman 'rest." But Senta would not be rebuffed, and spake : "How oft I 've heard you sing it! Why not now? Then I will sing it. Harken, girls, to me. The tale of sorrow and relentless fate For one poor man. 'T will surely touch your hearts." They cried: "Well, let us have the song!" While she insisted : " Mark my every word ! " " Yea, every spinning-wheel shall rest ! " they cried. "Except mine," muttered Mary, "it shall spin !" 21 Then Senta, seated in an old armchair, Senta, the fairest maiden of them all, If n VIP Senta, the golden haired, the rosy cheeked, Senta, the blue-eyed and the loving hearted, Senta of merry laugh and jolly jest, Now, with a solemn spell upon her face And with a mystic light within her eyes, Sang this weird ballad of "The Flying Dutch- man :" HOY! yeho! yeho! hallo! , Saw ye the ship on the stormy deep, Night-black the mast, blood-red the sail ! On deck unceasing watch doth keep The strange ship's captain, sad and pale. Hurrah ! How roars the wind. Yeho! yeho ! Hurrah! How bends the mast. Yeho! yeho! Hurrah ! Like an arrow she flies, without aim, Without goal, without rest, forevermore. "Yet can this sad-faced seaman Be freed from the curse infernal, If on land he can find a woman To pledge him her love eternal. Ah, that redemption may come to his life, Grant him, O Heaven, the gift of a wife. "Once, when the winds and seas were wroth, He sought round a certain cape to sail. He cursed and swore a mighty oath: 'I'll do it spite of Heaven and Hell.' Alack ! This oath old Satan heard ! Alack ! He marked it every word ! Alack ! He condemned him to sail the sea Without haste, without rest, forevermore. 22 "Yet, that the wretched man might find ^JJ, A full redemption here on earth, Some woman must have an angel mind , , And show to him her loving worth. Ah, may'st thou, spectral seaman, soon Receive from Heaven this blessed boon. "Every seven years he seeks a port, To find a bride he wanders round. Every seven years he is fate's disport, For never a faithful wife is found. Yeho! unfurl the sails! yehol Yeho ! weigh anchor now ! yeho ! Yeho! false love, false faith, to the sea Without haste, without rest, forevermore !" And as she ended, cried the maidens all : "Ah, where is she to whose deep loving heart God's angel may direct thee for redemption? Where lingers she, thy very own till death, O spectral captain, whatsoe'er betide thee?" With sudden ecstasy, fair Senta cried : "Would I were she! Would that my love might save thee! Would that God's angel might direct thee hither, Through me to bring redemption to thy life!" And Mary and the maidens cried, amazed : "Heaven help! Why, Senta! Thou'rt beside thyself!" Sudden her lover Erik in the doorway, A stalwart youth, with face of ruddy glow, And fair blue eyes, a lad like a young viking, 23 Clad in the mountain hunter's brave array; And as he came he heard her fervent words, And stunned and hurt he cried in grim de- spair: "Senta, my Senta! wouldst thou give me up!" And all the maidens crowding round him cried : " Good Erik, help us ! She has clean gone mad ! " And Mary said: "This outburst breaks my heart! Accursed painting, out thou goest from here As soon as her dear father comes again." Spake Erik: "He is now upon the way!" Cried Senta: "What, my father coming now!" He spake : "From yonder cliff I saw his sail." And all the maidens cried with joyous hearts : "Our sailor lads are coming! Come, let 's go !" But prudent Mary spake with knowing look : " Hold, eager hearts ! Let us snug up the house ! Our sailor lads have healthy appetites, They will be asking for the cake and wine. Keep back your anxious souls a little longer, Nor leave undone a single needful task." Gaily they answered: "Much have we to ask them, We cannot long hold back our eager hearts. Quick, make all right, the house, and cake, and wine, Then not a single duty holds us longer." Sudden the voice of Erik eager called : "Stay, Senta! Just a single moment, stay, And from this desperate torture set me free. Thou wilt not thus forsake and cast me off!" But Senta asked :" And shall this surely come?" 24 Impetuous he spake with trembling fears: 31 "O Senta, speak! What will become of me? Thy father nears. Ere he again sets sail He will fulfil what often he has planned." And as she asked : "Erik, what dost thou mean?" He answered quick : "To choose a husband for thee! Senta, listen as I speak this word : My heart is faithful to thee until death, My frugal cot, my huntsman's happy skill, Dare I present them humbly to thy hand? Would my proud offering be quickly spurned? If my fond heart in bitter sorrow broke, Say, Senta, who would plead my cause forme?" She spake : " Let these things rest. Let me be gone. 1 haste to greet my father as he comes, For if this once his daughter fails to meet him Upon the ship's deck, hurt his heart will be." Cried Erik: "So, wilt thou escape from me?" She answered: "I must hasten to the port." Persisted he: "My presence dost thou shun?" But firmly she exclaimed: " Nay, I must go!" Then in a deep despair, he fondly pleaded : "Wilt thou go forth and leave the wound still bleeding Which thou hast made in this most loving heart? Oh, listen to me in this parting hour! Hear what I ask, my final fondest hope, Say, when this heart with woe is sorely break- ing, 25 WO; Will it be Senta who shall plead for me?" ^^ e answere< ^ : "What ! Thou doubtest my or - true heart? Thou questionest if I am kind to thee ? Now, tell me, what has stirred up this new passion? What is it fills thy soul with dark dismay?" He cried : " Thou knowest, wealth thy father seeketh, And, Senta, thou, how dare I count on thee? I pray thee only grant this one petition, Grieve not my heart so deeply every day." Quoth she: "Thy heart? What have I done to it?" He spake : "What must I think ? That picture there!" She smiled and said: "What ails that picture there?" Replied he: " Nay, but thy infatuation" Asked she: "And can I show no sympathy?" He added: "And that ballad that thou lovest, The strange weird ballad that thou sang'st to- day." She said: "I 'm like a child, and scarce I know What songs I sing. But tell me, Erik, now, And dost thou fear a ballad and a painting?" He spake: "Thou art so pale. This is my fear." She asked : " Should I not grieve for his sad fate?" But Erik looked at her and fondly cried: " Senta, doth not my sorrow grieve thee more ? " Softly she answered: "Thou hast said enough. Hast thou a sorrow like the woe he bears? 26 Dost thou not know this sad one's awful doom? 3U lli)o Look, with what anguish, what deep, dark despair, His piteous eyes are looking now on me ! Ah! what a bitter and relentless fate I How deep the sympathy that wrings my heart!" Moaned Erik: "Woe is me ! My sad dream's true! May God protect thee ! Satan snares thee now!" And as he muttered prayer, fair Senta cried: "What doth affright thee that thou turnest pale?" Spake he, with solemn voice: "Now, Senta, list! A dream it was, heed thou its warning voice! I lay upon a lofty cliff a-dreaming And gazed across the silver shimmering sea. I heard the billows ever ceaseless roar As on the beach they wildly leaped and broke. A foreign ship lay nearby in the offing. I marked her, weird and wonderful to see, Two men drew near upon the landing-place, And one I clearly saw, thy father dear" And eagerly she asked : "Who was the other?" Slowly he spake: "Him also well I knew, With Spanish mantle, black and ghostly mien" "And sad appealing eyes," she added quickly. "That mariner in yonder frame," he said. Then Senta asked: "And was I in the dream?" "Yea," answered Erik, " from this house thou earnest, 27 And hastened to give greeting to thy father. ^ et scarce ly hadst thou reached thy father's side Ere thou wert kneeling at the stranger's feet Clasping his knees in tenderest entreaty." Asked Senta: "What did he? He raised me up?" Spake Erik : "Yea, he raised thee to his breast, And thou didst cling to him with fervor wild Giving him kiss for kiss impassionate." Eager she asked: "And then what happened then?" A moment Erik paused in gloomy wrath : " I saw him take thee on his shadowy ship And carry thee away to unknown seas." And Senta, thralled by pity, slowly mused : "He seeks for me! Surely I must behold him ! And with him I must fathom all the depths." Cried Erik: " Frightful end! Ha, it is clear She is foredoomed ! My darkest dream was true!" But Senta, yet spellbound, mused on and spake : "Ah, spectral seaman, that thou soon mightest find her! May Heaven grant him this true, faithful bride!" Scarce had her words gone forth, when lo, a sound Of opening doors, and on the threshold stood Her father, and a stranger by his side, A stranger, tall and handsome, sad of face, 28 A Spanish mantle round his shoulders thrown. 5D- 3 0; In truth a living semblance to the sailor matl'0 Whose portrait hung there yonder on the wall. And Senta with amazement was o'erwhelmed And stood in silence, as her father cried : "My child, thou seest me here upon the thresh- old, - Yet no caress, and not one loving kiss? Thoustandest there as if transfixed and dumb! Do I deserve, my Senta, such a greeting?" She gasped: "God guard thee well, O father mine! Who is this stranger coming here with thee?" And looking at him proudly, with a smile Of happy triumph, quickly spake her father: "Wouldst know this stranger who is now my friend? Wilt thou, my child, give him a friendly greet- ing, True mariner, like me, yet now our guest? Long without home he wandered far and wide ; Vast wealth from distant lands he has amassed, And since from his own land he is an exile, He offers all if he can share our home. What sayest thou, Senta, if this noble stranger Should here abide beneath our humble roof? " Then, bowing to his guest, he spake again In joyous tone and with unfeigned delight: "Pray, tell me, have I spoken overpraise? Look for thyself! Is not my daughter fair? May not my heart o'erflow with fervent praise ? Confess how full she is of charm and grace. 29 Wilt thou, my child, give welcome to our guest man And also welcome give him to thy heart? Give him thy hand, for bridegroom shalt thou call him. Do as thy father fondly doth desire, And thou to-morrow morn shalt wedded be. Look on these bracelets andbeholdthesegems, And these are trifles from his wondrous wealth. Dost thou not long to have them, dearest child? And all shall be thine own the very hour The wedding-ring is slipped upon thy finger. What! Neither speaks! Why should I linger here? I see! 'T were best that they be left alone. My daughter, may'st thou win this noble man ! Believe me, such good fortune ne'er comes twice. Stay here together; I will leave you now. Farewell, dear sir, my daughter will be gra- cious ; She is as true as she is beautiful." He hurried off, and they were left alone. Ah, do they start ! A secret tremor stirs them ; A mystic something binds their secret souls. A moment gazed the stranger at her face, Then slowly to himself his thought spake forth : " Out of the days of the dim distant past This maiden's face and form appear to me. What I have dreamed through countless years of sorrow Before my eyes at last do I behold ! Oft has the longing for a noble woman Burned in my heart during my darkest moods. 30 But it was Satan and his evil passion ^fl, Leading me on to anguish and despair. Now this new glow that flames within my heart Dare I, accurst, proclaim it love's devotion ? Ah, no ! this longing for repose and peace, Would it through such an angel come tome!" As if enthralled, fair Senta slowly spake : " Overwhelmed I seem in dreams most wonder- ful! Is it a vision that mine eyes behold, Or am I now set free from long delusion, And day at last has truly dawned for me? See, there he stands, his face with sorrow laden, He speaks to me his mingled hope and fear; Is it the voice of sympathy deceives me? No, as in dreams I saw him, stands he there ! The sorrow that within my bosom burns, Ah! this compassion shall I call it so? Mingles with thy deep longing for redemption. Through me, sad soul, pray God to send re- lease." Their cheeks are flame. A sudden love they feel. Her father's sordid greed is all forgot, 'T is love and pity only that speak forth The dream of yesterday, the dream of love, That floats o'er time for all eternity. Eager he asked, hope rising in his heart: "Wilt thou thy father's wish and will fulfil? What he has promised, darest thou confirm? Wilt thou forever give thyself to me And reach thy loving hand to save a stranger? 31 3BO- An d shall I find at last the end of trouble, * n *ky * rue * ove * ne l n &-sought peace and rest?" Most earnestly she spake and gave him answer: "Whoe'er thou art and whatsoe'er the curse That with relentless woe has driven thee ; Whate'er the doom that I shall share with thee, My father's will by me shall be obeyed." Again he spake with wonder in his words : "So innocent and full of childlike trust, How canst thou feel compassion for my woes?" She made reply: "Oh, wondrous woes and griefs ! Would I might bring some comfort and some peace!" And at these tender words he cried with joy: "Thy voice is music in my night of woe! Thou art an angel, and an angel's love Can peace and comfort bring to my sad heart ! Ah, if redemption still be mine to hope, Heaven grant that it may come to me through thee!" And Senta deeply echoed his heart's prayer: "Ah, if redemption still be his to hope, Heaven grant that it may come to him through me." Half doubting still the miracle of grace That seemed so near, he spake the trembling words : "Oh, if thou knewest fully the dire fate Which must be fully borne by thee with me, 32 Wouldst thou have given me thy solemn promise, Wouldst thou have sworn to be my own true bride ? Thy heart had shuddered at the awful doom That gave to me thy glorious golden youth Before thou thus surrendered all to* me, Thine innocence, thine honor, and thy trust !" But with a childlike face of earnestness She answered him, in happy truthful words : "Well do I know a woman's holy duties, sad, unhappy man, me canst thou trust ! Leave me to do the right whate'er the fate, For all its dread decrees do I defy ! Within the secret realm of sacred conscience 1 know the high demands of faith and love. Him whom I choose, I choose forevermore, And loving him, I love him e'en till death!" Exultantly he cried at this new vow: "A heavenly balm for all my wounds and woes Flows from her oath and holy plighted word!" While Senta in a happy thraldom spake : " T was surely some mysterious magic power That made me thus his glad deliverer." With constant and increasing joy he cried : "Hark ye! redemption have I found at last! Ye mighty powers who erstwhile laid me low ! Star of misfortune, thou art growing pale ! Light of my hope, thou shinest radiant ! Ye angels, who once utterly forsook me, Strengthen my heart again, and keep it true ! " And looking on him with her loving eyes Bright with faith's light and tender with love's tears, 33 Dear Senta spake to him in kindest way: "Here shalt thou find at last a peaceful home, , , Here shall thy ship reach port and be at rest. What power is it that lives and moves in me? What impulse stirs my heart to do this deed ? Almighty God, who givest me the courage, Grant me the strength to be forever true!" E'en as she spake, her father came again And looked at them with eager questioning . gaze And careful words of fair apology: "Pardon, if I break in upon you now, But these good folk and neighbors will not wait. After each voyage, you know, there comes the feast. I would enhance it, so I come to ask If your espousals are agreed upon. Methinks you have been talking heart to heart. Senta, my child, say, dost thou give consent?" And dutiful and happy she replied : " Here is my handl Freely I give my troth, And promise to be faithful unto death." While with a shout of gladness, and his face Beaming with hope, the Holland captain cried : "She gives her hand to me! She gives her troth! Now are ye conquered, all ye evil powers!" The father smiled, his hopes, his dreams come true, Senta his daughter soon to be a bride, The Holland captain soon to be his son, 34 The wedding dowry of the untold wealth. He kissed his faithful daughter joyously And in exultancy proclaimed his heart : " Ne'er shall ye rue this happy wedding-troth! Come to the feast! To-day let all rejoice!" 35 PART III: THE TROTH OF DEATH THE TROTH OF DEATH | TILL are we in the glorious land of Norway, The land of simple hearts and simple faith, The land of noble mountains, stormy seas, And beautiful great bays, and waterfalls. Here is a deep fiord, quiet but grand, With rocky cliff and happy green-clad hills. Upon this slope the Norway captain's home, A charming home in sweet simplicity Among its pine trees and its fertile fields. And yonder, on the waters of the fiord, Lay side by side the vessels anchored still, The one the Norway craft by build and sail, The other one the foreign Holland ship Of blood-red sails and masts of ebon hue. The night is clear; the heavens full of stars. The Norway ship is gaily lighted up, The sailors making merry on the decks, But on the Holland ship a darkness broods, And silence, as of death, reigns over it. Full lustily the Norway sailors sang: ELMSMAN, leave the watch ! All dan- ger'spast! Helmsman, hoi yeho! We're home! we'r6 home! See, the sails are furled, the anchor fast! Helmsman, leave the watch and with us come! Hurrah, heigho ! let storms and tempests come ! Heigho, our helmsman ! here at last we 're home! 39 " No more we fear the gale or rocky strand, i uott) of ^ u ^ a ^ *ke ^ av r i&ht merry shall we be ; 5D th Each sailor has a sweetheart on the land, With her, and pipes and wine, good-by the sea. Hurrah, heigho ! let storms and tempests come ! Heigho, our helmsman ! here at last we 're home!" Now nearby on the strand in best array, Bearing their dainty baskets heaped with cakes And carrying jugs of fragrant native wine, Came down to greet them all the village maidens, With merry laughter and with laughing eyes. And loud they cried with jolly raillery : " No, do our eyes deceive us? They are dancing ! They look so merry and self-satisfied, Of course they need no maidens for their frolic !" But catching sight of them the sailors cried : " Ho, maidens, halt ! Where are you going so fast?" They answered, laughing: "Ah, you scent the goodies. Your neighbors yonder must not starve to death! Others need food and drink as well as you!" The helmsman spake : " Too true ! Those wretched fellows Seem wilted down for just the lack of drink." One sailor said : " How deathly still they are ! " The helmsman added : " Yea, how strange the deck! No sign of light, no trace of any seamen!" 40 Then called the maidens to the Holland ship: "Ho, sailors, ho ! We bring a torch with us ! grot of Where have they gone ? We can see no one here." The Norway sailors cried : " Don't wake them up! They 're all asleep, and let them slumber on !" Again the maidens called: " Ho, sailors, an- swer ! " Laughed the Norwegians : "Ha, ha ! They are dead! They have no further need for cakes and wine !" Still cried the maidens : " Ho ! sailors, sound asleep ! Wake up, and keep the feast with us to-day." The Norway sailors mocked: "They're all below, Like dragons watching o'er their hidden gold." The maidens called : " Ho, here is golden wine ! Surely your thirsty hearts must heed that call !" But still the Holland craft no answer gave ; Darkness and silence brooded on its deck ; And, quite content, the Norway sailors cried: " They do not drink, they will not sing, And not a light is glimmering on their ship. Leave them alone, they have no need of you I" But still the maidens gave them one chance more And loudly called: " Have you no sweethearts here? Will you not come and dance with us, your friends?" Then laughed the Norway sailors in great glee: "Nay, they are old, their hair is thin and gray, Of And all their sweethearts dead these many Death years." The kindly maidens gave a parting call : "Ahoy there, sailors! Waken up, we say! We bring you dainty cakes and a cheering cup ! No sound! no answer! Surely they are dead! No further need have they for food or drink!" Then spake the Norway helmsman : "True, most true ! No further need have they for food or drink. Surely you 've heard of the weird Flying Dutch- man, This is his ship as truly as I live!" Then cried the maidens : " Pray don't wake the crew! They must be ghosts, yea, we are sure they are!" Again he spake: "How many hundred years Upon the sea, more feared than rock or storm ! " The maidens cried : " They do not drink, nor sing, And not a light is burning on their deck." The sailors mocked: " Have you no word or letter For us to carry to some great-grandfather?" Echoed the maidens: "All are old and gray, And all their sweethearts dead these many years." Again the Norway sailors called and mocked: " Ho, phantom sailors, spread your canvas out, Andlet The Flying Dutchman show his speed." The maidens sighed : "They hear not ! We 're afraid ! 42 They want us not. Why should we longer CljC stay?" an ^ captain hid beneath the wave. The billows rose and tossed in angry glee, S>Cltl) Then backward fell in rushing whirl of foam, Like one deep sob. And all was still as death. Thus came her marriage day and coronation In a great deed of utter sacrifice. Her martyr-spirit thralled by one desire, Stirred by deep pity to the fiercest passion, She longed to do and die for love's sweet grace. Feeling her father's will and God's demand Upon her soul, she answered love's deep call ; She made her altar the wide shimmering sea In splendor of a holy sacrifice, To save a sin-curst soul shut out from Heaven. Some say that in the brightening eastern sky, Within the faint dawn of the sunrise light, Above the ocean wave where sank the ship, They saw a vision of two radiant forms Embracing in a fond eternal love, And floating up into the open Heaven. THE END 20166 University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. LIBRARY FACILITY A 000825310 6