^""ii ! hit ii The Poems of SCHILLER Translated into English by E. P. Arnold-Forster New York Henry Holt and Company 1902 Published April, ig 02^ NASA) TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. I CLAIM no more for the following translations than that they are a tolerably faithful rendering of the original poems of Schiller. I have made no attempt to seize upon Schiller's supposed meaning and clothe it in language of my own. My object has been to reproduce not only Schiller's thoughts, but Schiller's method of describing those thoughts, as accurately as was consistent w^ith a change of language and the exigencies of verse. Where Schiller used the Elegiac metre, that metre has been adhered to in the translation. It is true, indeed, that the technical accuracy and niceties of the Classic verse can never be attained in a modern tongue, but the English language adapts itself at least as well to the Elegiac metre as does the German. E. P. ARNOLD-FORSTER. Cathedine, Burley-in-Wharfedale, Juiy, 1 901. CONTENTS. PAGE Hector's Farewell i Amalia 3 A Grave-ground Phantasy 4 Phantasy to Laura 7 Laura at the Spinet 10 To Laura. Rapture 12 The Mystery of Reminlscence 13 To Laura. Melancholy 16 The Infanticide 20 The Greatness of the World 24 Elegy on the Death of a Youth 26 The Battle 30 Rousseau 33 Friendship 34 A Group from Tartarus 37 Elysium 38 The Fugitive 40 The Flowers 42 To Spring 43 To Minna 44 The Triumph of Love 46 Fortune and Wisdom 52 The Dignity of Manhood 53, To A Moralist 57 The Grim Count Eberhard of Württemberg .... 58. To Joy 61 The Invincible Armada 65. The Conflict 67 Resignation 68; vii a — CONTENTS. PAGE The Gods of Greece 72 - A Celebrated Woman 77 Lines Written in a Young Lady's Album 82 The Artists I3 The Meeting 98 To Emma , 100 The Secret loi Suspense 103 Evening 106 -Desire 107 The Pilgrim ; . . . 109 The Ideals 11 1 The Maiden's Lament 114 The Youth at the Brook 115 The Favour of the Moment 117 A Mountain Song 119 The Alpine Hunter 121 Dithyramb 123 The Four Ages of the World . . . 124 Punch Song • 127 To My Friends 128 Punch Song. To be Sung in the North 130 -A Trooper's Song 132 A Nadowessian Dirge 134 The Feast of Victory 136 The Lament of Ceres 141 The Eleusinian Festival 146 The Ring of Polycrates 154 -^'he Cranes of Ibycus 158 Hero and Leander 164 Cassandra 173 "^pHE Hostage 178 -The Diver 184 The Knight of Toggenburg 190 The Fight with the Dragon 193 The Walk to the Foundry *. 203 The Count of Hapsburg 211 The Glove 215 The Veiled Image at Sais 218 The Partition of the World 221 viii CONTENTS. PAGE [>-— —The Ideal and Life Parables and Riddles ^2g The Strange Maiden 223 224 The Walk 236 ■The Song of the Bell 246^ The Power of Song 260 Woman's Worth 262 Hope 265 The German Muse 266 The Sower 267 The Merchant 267 Ulysses 267 Carthage 268 The Knights of St. John 268 German Honour 269 Columbus 270 Pompeii and Herculaneum 271 The Iliad 274 Zeus to Heracles 274 The Antique to the Northern Wanderer 274 The Minstrels of Old Time 275 The Antique at Paris 276 Thekla 277 The Maid of Orleans 278 0-— Nenia 279 The Child at Play 280 The Sexes 281 The Influence of Woman 283 The Dance 284 >---^ Fortune 286 ^Z Genius 290 The Philosophical Egotist 293 >— The Words of Faith 294 >-- The Words of Error 296 Proverbs of Confucius 298 Light and Warmth 300 Breadth and Depth 301 The Guides of Life • • 302 Archimedes and the Scholar 303 Human Knowledge • • 3^3 ix CONTENTS, PAGE The two Paths of Virtue 304 Honours 304 Zenith and Nadir 304 Ideal Freedom 305 The Child in the Cradle 305 The Unchangeable 305 Theophania 306 The Highest 306 Immortality 306 Votive Tablets 307 The Best Form of Government 319 To Legislators 319 The Worthy 319 A False Impulse to Study 319 Rejuvenescence 319 The Circle of Nature 319 The Genius v^^ith the Inverted Torch 320 The Virtue of Woman 320 Beauty at its best 320 The Forum of Woman 320 Feminine Judgment 320 The Feminine Ideal 321 Hope and Fulfilment 321 The Common Lot 321 Human Performance 322 The Father 322 Love and Desire 322 Goodness and Greatness 322 Motives 322 Natural and Transcendental Philosophers 323 German Genius 323 Trifles 324 Germany and Her Princes . 326 To Proselytizers .... 326 The Connecting Link 326 The Moment 326 German Comedy 327 A Bookseller's Advertisement 327 Dangerous Consequences 327 The Greek Spirit 327 X CONTENTS PAGE Children of the Sabbath 327 The Philosophers 328 G.G 331 The Homerides 331 The Moral Poet 331 A Lofty Subject 331 A Trick 332 Jeremiads 332 Knowledge 333 Kant and His Interpreters 333 Shakespeare's Ghost 334 The Rivers 337 The Metaphysician 340 The Worldly Wise 341 Pegasus in Harness 343 The Puppet-Show of Life 346 To A Young Friend about to Take up Philosophy . . 347 The Poetry of Life 348 To Goethe 350 To Mademoiselle Slevoight 353 Greek Genius 354 Lines Written in a Friend's Album 354 Lines Written in the Album of a Patron of Art . . 354 The Gift 355 William Tell 355 To THE Hereditary Prince of Weimar 356 The Beginning of the New Century 358 In October, 1788 360 -The Poet's Farewell 361 HECTOR'S FAREWELL. Andromache. And must my Hector turn aside To where Achilles bears in pride His tribute to Patroclus dead? How teach our sons to hurl the spear, And the immortal Gods revere If thou the realms of Orcus tread ? Hector. Thy tears, my dearest wife, control. The thirst for battle stirs my soul ; These arms of mine our Troy must save. The sacred hearth I will defend, And falling, fall my country's friend, Then plunge into the Stygian wave. Andromache. The well-known clang of arms shall fade, In idle halls shall lie thy blade, And Priam's glorious race expire. To sunless regions must thou go Where lone Cocytus wails below. And drown thy love in Lethe's mire. I B HECTOR'S FAREWELL. Hector. My every thought, my every hope In Lethe's silent stream may grope, But Hector's love shall never sink. The foe is thundering at the gate, Gird on my sword, thy grief abate. My love dies not on Lethe's brink. AMALIA. Fair as an angel, gayest of the gay, Fairer than any other youth was he, His glance celestial, like the sun in May Reflected in an azure crystal sea. His kisses — sentiments from Paradise ! As though two flames were locked in one embrace. Like tones which from the harp alternate rise. And blend in heaven-born, harmonious grace. They rush, they fly, uniting soul to soul, Lips quiver, cheeks assume a tone of fire, Hearts meet, and heaven and earth commingled roll, Dissolving in the warmth of love's desire. But he is gone — in vain, alas ! in vain We haunt him with a melancholy cry. Gone ! And life's pleasure changes into pain, Expiring in one lamentable sigh. B 2 A GRAVE-GROUND PHANTASY. The moon with sickly rays Upon the deathly-silent thicket plays, The moaning spectre rustles through the air Through mist and cloud and rain The pallid stars in vain Twinkle, like lanterns in a sepulchre. Like ghosts, in silence, lank and lean, A motley crowd in drear array, Advancing with funereal mien. On to the grave-ground wends its way. Who is this tottering by On crutches bowed, with haggard eye? By iron fortune double bent. His soul outpoured in long lament, He staggers toward the slow-borne bier. ** Father "—Was that the faltered name? Chill tremors all his body tear. Convulse his anguish-stricken frame, And even stir his silver hair. His burning wound reopened gapes, His soul is torn by pangs of hell : '* Father " his youthful lips escapes, *' Son " from the father's whisper fell. 4 A GRAVE-GROUND PHANTASY. Here in his icy shroud he lies, And thy fair dream, once bright as gold, Is now a curse : before thine eyes Lo ! Father, wrapped in icy fold Thy rapture and thy Paradise. Gentle, he springs from the arms of Aurora, Floating in lightest Elysian airs ; 'Mid rose-scented zephyrs the heaven-born Flora Her son o'er the flowery tapestry bears. Over the fairy-like meadows he flitted, Mirrored again in the silvery stream ; Pursued and o'ertaken, the maidens submitted To kisses which filled their voluptuous dream. Forcing his way through the pressure of mortals,.. Treading the hills with the foot of a roe. He lifted his hopes to the heavenly portals, In regions which only the eagle may know. Proud as the horses, which prancingly sidle. Tossing in anger the curves of their mane, Regally spurning the chafe of the bridle. Stood he, in presence of prince or of swain. The Spring of his life fluttered by like a vision, And Hesperus guarded him ever in sight ; With the aid of the grape he held pain in derision, And sorrows he danced into whirling delight. Whole worlds in his glorious youth are reposing ;, Ah ! Father, with pride his development scan ! Rejoice in the opening future, disclosing The slumbering germ, which shall ripen to man ! 5 A GRAVE-GROUND PHANTASY. But, Father, No !— Hark to the tolling bell, Hark where the brazen hinges creak — How grim that dread sepulchral spell ! — Yea, let the tears course down thy cheek ! Go, gentle spirit, sunward still. Be joyous till thy travels cease, The long-sought cup of rapture fill, And freely taste Valhalla's peace. To meet again — ah ! blessed hope — To meet again at Eden's gate ! Listen, there creaks the lowering rope, You hear the swaying coffin grate ! Helpless we reel, in dumb despair — Mute, speaking only with the eye. — Stay ! from these impious thoughts forbear ! Rather let tears our need supply. The moon with sickly rays Upon the deathly-silent thicket plays, The moaning spectre rustles through the air Through mist and cloud and rain The pallid stars in vain Twinkle, like lanterns in a sepulchre. With hollow thud resounds the clay — Ah ! one last look on earth's fair bloom ! — The bolts of death are drawn for aye. Upon the coffin piles the shovelled clay. No restitution from the tomb ! PHANTASY TO LAURA. Laura, the eddying power name Which body unto body binds. What is the magic which can tame And knit together kindred minds? It guides the planets on their way And bids them circle round the sun, As children round their mother play And in their merry gambols run. The stars of heaven as they roll Drink thirstily the golden rain, Draw vigour from its fiery bowl. As limbs are quickened by the brain. Atom with atom truly pairs In balanced and harmonious blend ; In Love combine the very Spheres, Whole Systems on that Love depend. From Nature's clockwork Love withdrawn» In wreck and ruin crumbles all, And round your worlds shall Chaos yawn ; Weep, Newton, o'er that giant fall. 7 PHANTASY TO LAURA. From spirit world that grace remove, And what remains must shrink and die Returning Spring relies on Love ; Loveless, how worship God on high ? How is it that my Laura's kiss Brings to the cheek a rosy flood, Quickens the heart with gathering bliss, And madly stirs my fevered blood ? Each nerve beyond its tension springs, The bursting veins would overflow, Body to body frenzied clings, And souls expire in amorous glow. Supreme o'er all the hidden powers At work in dead Creation's womb. Love close to gentle Nature cowers In sensuous Arachne's loom. See, Laura, how in warm embrace Joy throws her kindly arms o'er Grief, How blank Despair, nestling its face On Hope's warm breast, can find relief. Love's sister. Pleasure, can dispel Dull night's too melancholy dreams ; The golden tear-drops upward well. And forth the sunny radiance streams. Does not an awful Sympathy The very haunts of Evil leaven ? In love with Hell our vices sigh. But bear an angry grudge toward Heaven. 8 PHANTASY TO LAURA. Round Sin foui serpent-coils entwine — The Furies, Shame and dull Remorse- And Danger slinks to undermine True greatness in its lofty course. Ruin delights to toy with Pride, And Fortune writhes in Envy's grip. While sister Lust, with wanton stride, Hastens her brother Death to trip. On Love's light wings the Future sails, And seeks a refuge in the Past. The brideless Saturn's quest prevails To find Eternity at last. And when — thus Oracles declare — Saturn his shrinking bride has found, The World as wedding torch shall flare Time with Eternity be bound. And now a fairer morning pours Its light upon our sweet alcove. As long as lasted their amours, So long, my Laura, let us love. LAURA AT THE SPINET. When the strings thy fingers sweep, Laura, all my spirits fail, Marble-cold my forces sleep, Life and Death before thee quail. For thy sovereign powers impress Hearts — a very sorceress. Gentle zephyrs rustle by, Hanging on thy melody, And, enraptured by the strain, Dancing round and round remain. Nature's self is calm and still. Drinking in thy every thrill : Victim to thy music she^ 'Tis thy glance that conquers me. Heaven-born harmonies arise In voluptuous accord. Sweet, as though from azure skies New-born Seraphim upsoared. As, bursting from Creation's womb, And quitting Chaos' dreary zones, The Sun dispersed primeval gloom — So streams the magic of thy tones. Gentle now, as down their course Silver twinkling ripples leap, Gathering now majestic force Like an organ grave and deep ; ID LAURA AT THE SPINET. Bursting anon in storm, as from the rock Descends the cataract with foaming shock ; Then they murmur once again In coquetting notes of love, As the wanton airs complain To the quivering aspen grove. And now in slow and melancholy wall. As flutter ghosts upon the midnight gale. The damned proclaim their lamentable fears, And dark Cocytus passes, big with tears. Ah ! maiden, dost thou in communion dwell With heavenly Spirits? I adjure thee, tell ! And is their language (answer, I beseech. And hide it not) the true Elysian speech ? II TO LAURA. RAPTURE. Laura, above the world I seem to soar And bask in light on some celestial shore Whene'er our glances meet. Methinks I revel in ethereal balm When in thine eye caerulean and calm My pictured self I greet. The lyre's acclaim from Paradise afar, The harp's accord from some benignant star, Fill me with frenzied glow. My muse is conscious of th' idyllic hour When from thy burning lips too grudging pour The tones in silvery flow. I see young Loves with fluttering wings outspread, The very pines a merry measure tread, As though at Orpheus' call. The poles around me with increasing force Revolve, when in the dance's rippling course Thy fairy footsteps fall. Thy glance — illumined by the smile of love — To burning life the very stone can move, And wake a pulse divine ; My dreams will crystallise to deed If in thine eyes I rightly read : Laura, Laura mine ! 12 THE MYSTERY OF REMINISCENCE. TO LAURA. Who reveals to me th' Imperious need Ever insanely on thy lips to feed ? And who the passion which would fain inhale Thy breath ; and to the very death prevail, So thou art by ? Does not my spirit unresisting rise, As conquered minions yield, to meet thine eyes ? Torn is my spirit with internal strife. Struggling in frenzy o'er the bridge of life, When thou art near. Why should my soul from me, its master, stray. And before thine its truant offering lay ? Do they like sundered brothers meet again. Emancipated from their earthly chain. Before thine eyes ? Were our two Essences already one ? Does this explain our heart-beat's rhythmic tone ? In the departed light of suns gone by, In days of now forgotten ecstasy Were we combined? 13 THE MYSTERY OF REMINISCENCE. Aye, but we were indeed ! United fast Were thou and I in ages now long past ; In the dark tablets of a vanished age My peering Muse saw written on the page : — ** Our Love is one." And in the rapture of our common soul, Amazed, I saw inscribed upon the roll That we were God^ wielding creative power. And that the world was given as a bower For us to roam. Eternal streams, voluptuous and sweet. Of heavenly nectar babbled at our feet ; We burned to open life's mysterious seal, And flew, the truth in daylight to reveal On eager wings. Weep, Laura, weep ! That God has passed away, And thou and I in ruined disarray For the too glorious past unsated grieve. Once more Divinity we would achieve — Be God again. And hence, my Laura, springs th' imperious need Ever insanely on thy lips to feed. And hence the passion which would fain inhale Thy breath, and to the very death prevail. So thou art by. So does my spirit unresisting rise, As conquered minions yield, to meet thine eyes, And thus my spirit, torn with inward strife, Struggles in frenzy o'er the bridge of life When thou art near. 14 THE MYSTERY OF REMINISCENCE. Thus does my soul from me, its master, stray, And before thine its truant offerings lay ; Emancipated from their earthly chain, The sundered brothers meet, and kiss again In long embrace. And for thyself — thy secret swift I knew. Discovered by thy cheek's empurpled hue ; Like near and dear ones, sped we hand in hand, As leaps the exile toward his native land ; And we were one ! n TO LAURA. MELANCHOLY. Laura, morning's waking rays In thy golden glances flame, O'er thy cheek the crimson strays, And thy pearl-like tears proclaim Ecstasy thy mother's name. Happy he who can assign To those tears a source divine, For to him new suns arise. Shining from unclouded skies. And thy soul — a vision clear, Like a silver, sunlit mere. Autumn's dreary tints of grey Can transform to smiling May, Deserts to a radiant sphere. O'er the future's dread unseen Spreadest thou a golden sheen ; Thou smil'st at Nature's harmony And grace ; but I can only sigh. Powers of darkness ever creep Underneath this earth of ours ; Castles frowning on the steep, Cities with their stately towers, All on mouldering bones are piled Thy carnations owe their bloom To corruption, and defiled, Fountains issue from the tomb. i6 TO LAURA : MELANCHOLY. As the planets upward sail Let them, Laura, tell their tale ! Under their commanding zone Thousand thousand Springs have flown, Countless thrones have been upraised, Countless battle-fields have blazed. Wouldest thou the story trace ? Seek it in some iron-bound place ! Sooner or later, when the end is nigh. Away the planet's chariot wheels will fly, 'Tis but a twinkle — and the Sun In the sea of Death goes down ! Prithee, whence thy glances ? Say, Boastest thou that brilliant eye. Or thy cheek's empurpled dye. Borrowed all from mouldering clay ? Maid, expensive was the loan ; To Death thou must restore his own, And heavy interest pay. Speak not of Death in careless tone ! The rosier thy cheeks appear The more exalted is his throne. Beneath that skin so fresh and fair The foeman marks thee for his own. Laura, — my words no fancy deem — Deathward alone thine eye is bent ; With every glance is nearer spent Thy life-lamp's little gleam. '* But my pulses strong and blithe Bound along," I hear thee say. Ah ! But the tyrant's creatures writhe Insidiously towards decay. 17 C TO LAURA : MELANCHOLY. Death thy smiles away shall sweep, As the tempest o'er the deep Drives the many-coloured foam. Vain it is to seek their trace Limned in Nature's smiling face, In life itself, as though his home, The dread Destroyer takes his place. Alas ! thy roses wind-shorn lie, Thy lovely mouth is hushed and pale. The levelling storm, the Winter's gale Thy cheeks' entrancing beauty try. The misty light of drooping years The silver stream of youth will dull ; In Laura's love will come a lull, As her attraction disappears. Maiden, thy Poet, sturdy as an oak Stands : on his hardy youth descends in vain The piercing shaft, the death-compelling stroke ; My glances — blazing as the lamps which reign In heaven's self — my soul more ruddy bright Than even heaven's everlasting fires, Such sea-swept heavens as alternate smite In fury, then up-build the craggy spires. Through boundless space my thoughts unfettered move, And nothing fear but their own narrow groove. With pride, my Laura, does thy bosom swell ? Know then, fair maid, the waters of this well, This cup from which the Godhead seems to speak, With poison reek ! Ah ! Thrice unhappy who essay To strike the spark divine from clay. i8 TO LAURA: MELANCHOLY. Before the bold harmonious note The trembling harp-strings leap and burst, And Genius' rays in space which float On life's poor flame alone are nursed. Subservient guardians before him prone Lie, and detach him from his living throne ! Alas ! my spirits, stirred to impious fire. In league are bound, and 'gainst myself conspire. Let two brief Springs, my Laura, pass — But two — and then this house of clay Will fall, a tottering ruined mass, Extinguishing my feeble ray. Dost weep, my Laura? — Dry those tears, Which but lament my tale of years ! Nay, dry those tears for very shame ! Would Laura see my forces fail. Would she behold me shrink and quail, Who knew me in my youthful fame ? She hear my frozen spirit chide The fervour of my early pride, And mark my ageing conscience pour Rebuke on favourite sins of yore ? Nay, dry those tears for very shame ! Yes ! Cull the flower in its bloom. And thou, good youth, enwrapped in gloom, My life's torch quench in tears. As falls the curtain on the tragic stage And, rustling down, conceals the fairest page, The shadows fly : — the crowd still sits and hears. 19 c 2 THE INFANTICIDE. Hark — where the bells their sad accord proclaim, The clock accomplishes its ordered round. So be it, then — And in th' Almighty's name ! Come, grave-attendants, to the fatal ground. Accept, oh World, this kiss — it is my last ! Take this last tear, which from mine eyelid starts I Thy poisons — sweet they tasted in the past. Now we are quits, thou poisoner of hearts ! Farewell, ye friendly pleasures of the light. Now yielding place to crumbling dark decay ! And fare thou well, thou Spring of rapture bright I Who knew so well a maiden's heart to sway. And farewell too, ye golden-webbed dreams, Capricious phantasies from Paradise ! Alas ! they vanished with the morning beams, And softly melted, never to arise. A bow of rosy pink I used to wear, A swan-white robe mine innocence arrayed ; And in the masses of my golden hair, But half-concealed, the little rosebuds played. Alas ! to Hell's embrace she is consigned ! The swan-white garment still indeed she wears> But where the rosy bow was used to wind, Token of death, a mourning fillet stares. 20 THE INFANTICIDE. Ah ! weep for me, ye pure, who never fell, In whose sweet innocence the lilies grow ; Ye, in whose soft and kindly bosoms dwell The strength and virtue Nature can bestow. To human love, alas ! my heart I gave. And human love shall prove th' avenging blade I By a false arm deceived — a villain's slave — Virtue was lulled, and — woe is me ! — betrayed. And now, forgetful of this viper's heart, Perchance he calls another to his arms ; And, even to the grave as I depart, Hovers around her as she tricks her charms ! Perchance with some fresh maiden's locks he plays And drinks the kiss she willingly bestows. E'en at the moment when in throbbing sprays Over the fatal block my life-blood flows. Ah ! Joseph, Joseph, wheresoe'er thou go, Louisa's doleful death-chant shall attend, And the clock-tower's muffled stroke of woe. Relentless, on thy tortured ear descend. And, if it hap some gentle maiden's tone Tickle thy senses with her lisping love, Be thy voluptuous picture overthrown, A hell-distorted image may it prove ! What, traitor, are Louisa's troubles nought ? Hard-hearted man, is nought a woman's shame? Nothing the babe which still is but a thought? Why, these the very beasts of prey might tame ! I mark his stately sails an ofiing gain. And follow quivering with misty eyes ; — It is yon maidens by the banks of Seine O'er whom he whimpers his perfidious sighs ! 21 THE INFANTICIDE. And then the child !— Upon its mother's breast It lay in happy, innocent repose ; Its fascinating little smile possessed The charm which glorifies the morning rose. Each lineament a fatal beauty wore To me, enraptured by its form so fair : Conflicting sentiments my bosom tore — On this side, Love — on that, a blank Despair. ** Where is my Father, woman ? " rose the cry From babbling innocence, yet thunder deep ; *' Where, woman, is thy Husband? — Make reply!" — And at the words my inmost heart would creep. Alas ! poor babe, thou seekest him in vain. And other children may enjoy his smiles ; And thou shalt curse the passing hour, whose stain Thy memory with the Bastard's name defiles. Thy Mother ! Hell within her bosom burns ! In the whole universe alone is she. And vainly for the fount of joy she yearns, Embittered by her every glance at thee. Each word that from thine infant lips proceeds Recalls the days of happiness gone by, And cruel Death's avenging arrow speeds From the young laughter of thy dancing eye. Hell ! All is Hell, whether I see thee there, Or whether from mine eyes thou art withheld. Thy kisses like the Furies' lashes tear, While his with zest my ravished lips compelled ; His oaths like thunder from the tomb resound, His perjured tones my failing senses stun. — Then, in the Hydra's devilish fetters bound, i yielded — and the hideous deed was done ! 22 THE INFANTICIDE. Joseph, I pray that unto miles untold The horrid spectre may thy steps attend, In his chill grasp thy shrinking form enfold. And thundering, o'er thy dreams of bliss impend. May the stars winking in their pallid skies For ever point thee to the murdered child, And be thou hounded in thy bloody guise From Paradise, tormented and reviled ! — There at my feet behold it lying — dead I Benumbed with cold, my senses all astray, I saw his life-blood as it gently sped. And with that blood my life too stole away. — I hear the dreaded messenger of doom Knock, yet in louder accents beats my heart ! Gladly I hasten to the icy tomb So it extinguish this tormenting smart. Joseph, from God above thou mayst receive Pardon ; the sinner's self may grant thee grace ; My pains and sorrows to the world I leave. — Forward, ye flames, the dreaded pile efface ! — 'Tis well ! Ablaze his letters disappear. His oaths are swallowed in the conquering fire ; Those kisses, which on earth I held so dear, In sputtering sparks exalt the fatal pyre. Trust not the roses of thy youthful cheek. Nor ever, sisters, on man's word rely ; Beauty it was which caused my virtue's wreck. And now I curse that beauty as I die. — Tears ! How can tears a headsman's eyes bedew ? Quick ! Bind the fatal veil upon my face. Headsman, dost fear a lily-stalk to hew? Pale executioner, I ask no grace ! 23 THE GREATNESS OF THE WORLD. 'Mid the burst of Creation from Chaos unfurled, On the wings of the wind I soar over the world ; On the uttermost strand Of its ocean I land ; And anchor where never a zephyr is known, And Creation has planted its boundary stone. I saw the young stars from their cradle arise, And start on their infinite course through the skies ; I watched them at play To their goal as they sway ; — It was but a moment, and looking again, I gazed upon void — not a star in the Main ! To the regions of space I courageously steer, Outspeeding the light in mine airy career ; The heavens are dim *Neath the mists as they skim ; Whole systems of planets, whole oceans in flood Round the track of the sun-hunting wanderer scud. Lo ! A pilgrim I meet on my desolate way. — ** Hold, there, brother Palmer, thy purpose display ! ' **To the world's very end My direction I bend, To the harbour where never a zephyr is known, And Creation has planted its boundary stone." 24 THE GREATNESS OF THE WORLD. ** Thou courtest the Infinite, sailest in vain ! " ** Good pilgrim, thou sail'st on a similar plane ! — Thy wings thou must fold Be they never so bold ! However adventurous Phantasy's ship, The anchor of Phantasy never can grip.'* 25 ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A YOUTH.i Such dismal moaning as a storm precedes With smothered echoes fills the house of woe, The death-chime from the Minster tower pleads ! A youth is carried forth with footsteps slow. A stripling — not yet ripened for the tomb, Plucked prematurely in his early days, His pulses strong, his cheeks in ruddy bloom, The fire yet flashing from his eager gaze. — A son — his mother's darling (you may tell From that long lamentable cry of pain) My bosom friend — alas ! my brother too — An ye be men, follow the mournful train ! Boast ye, ye lofty, hoary-headed pines Who shrink not from the storm, nor thunders fear? Ye mountain tops on which the heavens recline ? Ye heavens, that whole suns march in your sphere ? Dost boast, thou grey-beard, that this honoured name On great achievement's swelling wave relies ? And does the hero boast his ancient fame. Safe in his glorious temple in the skies ? Let once the canker worm the bud assail, And who but fools will battle with decay ? Above or here below what can avail When Death in such a stripling finds a prey ? 1 The youth's name was Johann Christian Weckherlin. 26 ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A YOUTH. His early years slid by with flying feet, Each day a rosy-coloured garment wore, And — ah ! to him the world was very sweet. The future promised an enchanting store. He saw a life of Paradise unfold, And all things glitter in eternal gold. Yet even as the mother's tear-drop fell, The realms of Death before him opened wide ; The fatal threads were severed, and the spell Swept heaven and earth relentlessly aside. Thoughts of the grave in vain he would defy — Ah ! sweet the world to those about to die ! Deaf is that narrow house, and silence reigns, Its tenant's slumbers are prolonged and deep ; No scope for thine exalted hope remains, Beloved brother, in this endless sleep. Oft in the sunshine basks thy favourite hill, But what to thee are those inspiring rays ? Though to the breeze the flowers curtsey still, Their rustle nothing to thine ear conveys. Thy glance will sparkle never more with love, In thine embrace no bride will ever sigh. And though our tears a very torrent prove, Thine eyes must close for ever — thou must die. Yet not amiss ! — Well earned is thy repose ; At peace thou art within thy strait domain ; Thy pleasures perish, but no less thy woes. And thou hast respite from this world of pain. Over thee now calumnious tongues may wag, Temptation issue from its poisoned well. The sleek-faced Pharisee may smirk and brag, And hypocrites consign thy soul to hell, 27 ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A YOUTH. Swindlers through apostolic masks may leer, And stern uprightness' bastard daughter play, Throwing the dice of chance, with mortals here, And on for ever to the Judgment day. And may Dame Fortune on thy steps attend, As on her favourites she loves to fawn ; One moment men a tottering throne ascend, Anon behold them through a quagmire drawn. Rest thou at peace within thy narrow grave ! This tragi-comical extravagance, This hazard borne on a tempestuous wave. This stupid lottery — this game of chance. This idle throng which does but seem to toil, The weary task which counterfeits repose, Brother ! — From all this hellish Heaven recoil, On sights like these thine eyes for ever close. Farewell, thou trusty confidant, farewell. Our loving blessings gently round thee soar ! Slumber in peace in thy sepulchral cell, Slumber in peace until we meet once more ! Till o'er these hills sw^elling with human clay The trumpet of th' Omnipotent shall sound, And, Death's benumbing fetters swept away. Before God's blast the startled corpses bound ; Until, impregnated with God's own breath, The graves bring forth : and at the blare of doom, Amid the smoke of bursting planets, Death The very dead surrenders from the tomb. Though not in worlds imagined by the wise, Nor yet in heavens, as the bards pretend. Nor in some artificial Paradise — Yet we shall overtake thee in the end. 28 ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A YOUTH. Can it be true that, as the Pilgrim said, Beyond the tomb there still is room for thought ? That virtue o'er the grave a bridge can spread ? Or are these fancies which must count for nought ? To thee these mysteries are now laid bare, And Truth refreshes thine enraptured soul, The very Truth, illumined by the glare Which flashes from th' Almighty Father's bowl. Advance, thou grim and silent bearer train E'en he must garnish the Avenger's board ! Cease your laments and from your cries abstain, Let dust on dust over the mound be poured ! Who is the man to question God's decree ? And whose the eye th' abysses to explore ? God of the dismal tomb, we worship thee, But tremble, shuddering, as we adore. Dust may in dust again its fellow find, But from its crumbling home the soul will fly ; His ashes may be scattered to the wind, His love remains for ever and for aye 29 THE BATTLE. In solid grim array, Like a storm-cloud moist and gray, They stagger on their march across the plain Through the never-ending zone Where the iron dice are thrown : A stealthy backward glance who can restrain ? Hearts almost beat aloud, When before the pale-faced crowd The Major sharply gallops to the front. Halt! The ranks respond to the abrupt command. Silent and motionless the regiments stand. What is that in the dawning glow Glimmering over the height ? Do the enemy's standards show? Yes, they are well in sight. God be with you, wife and child ! Do they sing as they come ? Hark to the scream of their piping wild And the rolling of the drum ! A burst of barbaric, melodious tone : It curdles the marrow and shivers the bone ! God keep you, comrades, in His love Till we meet again in the world above ! 30 THE BATTLE. Lightning flashes seem to glare, Crashing thunders split the air. Eyelids quiver 'neath the blast, Watchwords through the host are passed. Be it so ! The watchwords tell ; Bolder now our bosoms swell. Death stalks abroad : an iron hail Pours through the murky sulphur veil. In grim embrace the hosts are locked. *' Ready " 's the word ; the guns are cocked. Kneeling the foremost rank Fires ; some fall to rise no more. Volleys of grape in torrents pour, Yet filled is every blank. Death right and left and all around : Whole regiments welter on the ground. The sun goes down, yet still they fight. And over the army descends the night. God keep you, comrades, in His love Till we meet again in the world above ! The living mingle with the dead, On corpses falls the stumbling tread. And spouting streams of blood descend. — '*What, Frank, thou there? My Charlotte greet, good friend ! " (Wilder the tide of battle rolled.) " I will ! " But, oh my lads, behold ! The grape is bursting in our rear ! *' Thy Charlotte I will greet, friend ; have no fear ! Repose in peace ! Where most the bullets fly. Forlorn and friendless, comrade, there stand I." 31 THE BATTLE. Hither, thither sways the fight, Dark over the army broods the night, God keep you, comrades, in His love Till we meet again in the world above I Ha ! what was that went crashing by ? In every direction the gallopers fly. The dragoons are right in the thick of the foe. And his murderous thunders feebler grow. Comrades, 'tis Victory ! Their craven limbs in terror quail, And in the dust his standards trail. Decided is the bloody fight ; Victorious day dispels the night ! The rolling drums, the fifers shrill The air with strains of triumph fill ! Farewell, dear comrades, who linger here t We shall meet again in another sphere I 32 ROUSSEAU. A monument to point our Age's shame, A blot for ever on thy country's fame, Grave of Rousseau, to me thou art right dear ! Over thy ruined hfe may quiet reign — That quiet peace thyself had sought in vain — Quiet and peace at least thou findest here ! When will these ancient w^ounds be covered o'er ? The v^rise oft perished in dark days of yore ; Now days are brighter, yet they die as then. Socrates to the Sophists fell a prey, Rousseau yields to the Christians of to-day : — Rousseau ! — who out of Christians fashioned men, 33 FRIENDSHIP. The maker of the Universe, my friend, Finds not in little thoughts themselves an end, Ranged in laborious and ordered row. The fly-wheel once in motion, it will turn (As my dear Newton failed not to discern) Pinions in realms above and those below. It drives the spheres with overmastering rein, The world's great heart in fetters to enchain, As in their labyrinthine course they glide — And spirit-forms in intertwining throng Toward the great master-spirit press along, As press the rivers to the ocean tide. And was it not this influence divine Which knit our hearts for ever — thine and mine- In an exultant fellowship of love ? Ah ! Raphael, leaning on thine arm, e'en I Dare press in glad, confiding ecstasy To the great master-spirit up above. Ah ! happy moment, w^hen I found thy trace, Held thee, 'mid millions, in my fond embrace ; (For amid millions thou alone art mine.) Even if Chaos split the world in twain. Yet kindred atoms will unite again ; Happen what may, our spirits will combine. 34 FRIENDSHIP. Mine own voluptuous joy I recognise Truly reflected in thy flashing eyes. I marvel even at myself — in thee ! The earth is painted in still warmer tints, And my beloved's attitude imprints On heaven itself his own divinity. Its darker moods dejection lightly cheers By throwing off" her heavy load of tears On to the gentle breast of love divine. Why, do not even rapture's torturing throes In thine eyes' eloquence bespeak repose — And find therein a lasting, happy shrine ? If in the Universe I stood alone, I would imagine souls in every stone, And each with ravishing caresses greet. The winds of heaven should hear my bitter cry, And if the abysses only made reply, Fool that I am ! — still, sympathy is sweet ! Insensate bodies are we when we hate — Gods, when in love our anger we abate ! After the gentle thrall of bonds we yearn ! Up and along the many-threaded course Of countless souls, which lack creative force, The overmastering impulse bids us turn. So, arm in arm, in lofty course we steer Down from the Mongol to the Grecian seer, (Nearest of kinsmen to the Seraph host). And on with rhythmical accord we sweep. Till in the glory of th' eternal deep The sense of Time and Measurement is lost. 35 02 FRIENDSHIP. Unfriended was the ruler of the skies : He felt his need, and bade the Spirits rise His glory, mirror-like, to testify. No peer that wondrous Being ever knew ;, From the vast cup of Spirit-life he drew The foaming opulence — Eternity ! 36 A GROUP FROM TARTARUS. Hark ! — Like the murmur of the angry sea, As wails the stream which scours the hollowed stone, Resounds in doleful, lamentable key A tortured moan ! Yon features are distraught with pain. And their blaspheming throats in vain Battle against despair. With hollow eyes and frenzied look Upon Cocytus' darkling brook In tearful gaze they stare. Must they, each piteously implores. For ever thus in anguish writhe ? — Eternity above them soars. And split in twain is Saturn's scythe. 37 ELYSIUM. A truce all lamentable cries ! Elysium's festal shouts arise And drown each note of woe — The rapturous Elysian life Skims gently past all worldly strife, As streams through pastures flow. With her benign and youthful mien There hovers o'er the ample scene An everlasting May : The hours escape in golden dreams, The soul to boundless limits streams, Truth tears the veil away. Here an unbroken strain of bliss Wells undulating through the heart. The very name of grief we miss, And *' Rapture " stands for sorrow's smart. Here the far-travelled pilgrim's limbs are laid, Weary, beneath the cool and rustling shade, And for all time his burden here he leaves. The sickle falls from the unheeding swain, And, yielding to the harp's entrancing strain. He sees in dreams th' already garnered sheaves. 38 ELYSIUM. He, whose tall ensigns woke the thunder's peal, Whose ears were hardened to the clash of steel, At whose stern tread the mountains bowed in fear, Sleeps calmly now beside the rippling ghyll, Which babbles o'er these stones with silver trill, Forgetful of his fury-dealing spear. Here loving pairs their faithful ardour plead. Embracing on the emerald velvet mead, By gentle zephyrs fondled and caressed ; Here Love at length its chaplet shall attain, And free from death and its attendant pain, For ever celebrate the bridal feast. 39 THE FUGITIVE. Fresh rustles the morning's enlivening breeze : The newly-born light through the gloom of the trees Right rosily peeps ; through the bushes it shines, And winks in the glades of the sorrowful pines. The cloud-capped mountains raise Their heads in golden blaze. In happy, melodious, twittering tone The awakening larks pay their court to the Sun, As he smilingly rises with juvenile grace. Aglow with the thrill of Aurora's embrace. Ah ! blessed ye beams, Whose irradiance streams In cherishing warmth over pasture and plain. What a silvery tint On the fields as they glint Like thousands of suns from the dew-drops again ! In the genial shade, Like a frolicsome maid. Young nature is caught at her play. The breeze interposes, And coaxes the roses. And sprinkles an odorous balm on its way. Tall curtains of smoke o'er the cities are wreathing ; And neighing and snorting and stamping and breathing 40 THE FUGITIVE. Come horses and kine : The wagons incline Towards the billowy vale. To life the wood springs ; Hawk, falcon and eagle unfetter their wings, And balance and poise in the beams as they sail. Ah ! where may I hope For repose, as I grope And totter along in despair ? The world may be glad. But my heart remains sad. For 'tis only a grave which is there. Arise, thou rosy morning light, and tinge With purple kiss the wooded plain unfurled ; And may the blush of gentle even fringe The peaceful slumbers of the dying world. Morning ! alas, thy gilded hue O'er a death-haunted prospect glows, And rays of evening but bedew My everlasting deep repose. 41 THE FLOWERS. Ye children of the youthful Sun, Ye flowers of the varied field, In bliss your early days were run, And Nature's kiss your childhood sealed j Clad in embroidery of light, And by fair Flora's hands bedight, Godlike, with every radiant hue. And yet, my children, ye must sigh, For Flora did a soul deny. And darkness must your life imbrue. Lark and nightingale may sing In your ears with loving plea, Twinkling, amorous sylphs may cling Wantonly about your knee. Aphrodite's self may trace Calyx crowns your heads to grace, As on love they cushioned lie. Yet, my children, ye must weep : — Love with all its feelings deep She has chosen to deny. But, though my mother's stern command Forbids my darling to behold, Yet, when in my ecstatic hand Thy dainty love-pledge I enfold, Then life and speech and soul and heart, From contact into being start, Tokens of calm and soothing grief. Then all that highest Heaven sends Within your gentle petals blends, And brings divine relief. 42 TO SPRING. Hail in thy youthful beauty, In Nature's fairest mien ! With flowery baskets laden, Be welcome on the scene ! What ho ! art thou returning-, Who art so blithe and gay ? Then heartily we greet thee, And meet thee on the way. Bethink thee of my maiden ; Ah, dear one, dost thou mind ? That maiden loved me dearly, And still that maid is kind. Full many a little flower I begged for her from thee — Once more I come entreating : What will thine answer be ? Hail in thy youthful beauty, In Nature's fairest mien ! With flowery baskets laden, Be welcome on the scene ! 43 TO MINNA. Am I dreaming- ? Is mine eye Dimmed ? Do I distinctly see ? What ! My Minna passing by, And she will not look at me ! On some dandy's arm to glide, With a flippant fan to play, Lost in vanity and pride — That is not my Minna's way. On her dainty bonnet toss Lordly plumes — my gift they were. Bows which o'er her bosom cross Whisper : — '' Minna, have a care ! " Flowers which myself I grew On her hair and breast are spread : Ah ! that breast has proved untrue, Yet the flowers are not dead ! Go, thy flatterers at thy side ! Let me from thy memory fade. Venal toadies are thy guide ; I despise thee, fickle maid. Go ! For thee beat once a heart, Throbbing to a noble key ; Now it knows the bitter smart Of adoring fools like thee. 44 TO MINNA. In thy beauty's wrecked remains I behold thee all forlorn, Doomed, in these thy present pains, Happy days of youth to mourn. Swallows which in Spring-time pair Fly before the Northern blast. Gathering" years your wooers scare, And your friend aside is cast. Those who once for Minna's kiss With enraptured fervour sighed, Now thy vanished beauty miss. And thy drooping years deride. Shall not I, then, mock thee too ? Mock thee, Minna ? — God forefend ! Rather bitter tears and true O'er my Minna will I spend. 45 THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE. Thanks it is to holy love That the Gods are blessed above ; Thanks to love it is mankind Near the Gods a place can find. Heaven becomes more heavenly still, Earth acquires a heavenly thrill. Near Pyrrha in the days of yore (So all the poets sang) From crags and stones the world did soar, Man from the bed-rock sprang. Their hearts were formed of rock and stone> Their souls were dark as night, For on them never yet had shone The heavenly torch of light. Not yet they knew the rosy chain With which the Loves delight to rein Souls in ethereal rings ; Not yet their bosoms had been stirred By the harmonious murmur heard When Muses touch the strings. Their brows no chaplets then caressed. No wreaths their temples wound ; Sadly the Spring-times onward pressed. To bright Elysium bound. 46 THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE. TJngreeted then Aurora rose From the illumined main, And, unsaluted, its repose The setting sun would gain. untaught, man wandered in the grove, And, bound in yoke of iron, strove 'Neath Luna's sickly rays. -None hankered for the starry spheres, And no relief was sought in tears. None yearned the Gods to praise. But, from the deep which tranquil lies. See Heaven's very daughter rise, And carried by the gentle hand Of Naiads to th' ecstatic strand ! The atmosphere of merry May Sweeps by, as floats the dawning ray. And hails that glorious creature's birth In air and ocean, heaven and earth. The sparkling glance of day invades And smiles into the forest glades ; Narcissus, delicate and sweet. Blooms languorous beneath her feet. The nightingale attunes his note A tale of love to sing, And love-inspiring murmurs float From yonder babbling spring. Pygmalion, how happy thou With life the marble to endow ! Victorious God of love, draw near, Embrace thy pious children here ! 47 THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE.. Thanks it is to holy Love That the Gods are blessed above ; Thanks to Love it is mankind Near the Gods a place can find. Heaven becomes more heavenly still,, Earth acquires a heavenly thrill. Quaffing nectar's golden stream, Nursing some voluptuous dream. Feasting in convivial joy — Thus the Gods their days employ- All Olympus trembles, prone. When from his exalted throne Cronos' son the lightning hurls,, Tossing wild his awful curls. Yet he left his throne above, 'Midst the sons of earth to move. And in worldly thickets wept ; The thunders coiled betwixt his feet,. And, coaxed by Leda's kisses sweet,. The Giant-killer slept. Phoebus his majestic team Where the day's broad flashes gleam^ Drives with golden rein. His rattling harness spreads affright, His flaming, heaven-born steeds are white. Yet all this clattering train Gladly would he cast aside, Harmony and Love his guide. Before the Lord of Heaven's Queen The very Gods abase their mien ; 48 THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE. Before her chariot's proud array The peacock pair their plumes display, And with a victor's crown compare ' The glories of her fragrant hair. Fair Princess ! trembles even Love As he approaches the alcove Wherein thy glory shines. And yet the Queen will leave her throne And humbly beg th' entrancing zone Which heart with heart entwines- Thanks it is to holy Love That the Gods are blessed above ; Thanks to Love it is mankind Near the Gods a place can find. Heaven becomes more heavenly still, Earth acquires a heavenly thrill. Love drives the powers of night away, And even Orcus must obey His sweet and magic spell. The dismal king his wrath conceals When his Proserpina appeals — Night's terrors love can quell. In hell thy heavenly Thracian strains Around the gaoler wove their chains. Minos himself with softened eyes A milder torment did devise ; In dark Megaera's angry hair Less icy was the viper's stare. 49 THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE. Whips cracked no more, and Orpheus' lyre Coaxed Tityus' vulture to retire ; Dark Lethe and Cocytus dim Swished gentler past with flowing brim, Listening as they rolled along, Thracian, to thy love-lorn song ! Thanks it is to holy Love That the Gods are blessed above ; Thanks to Love it is mankind Near the Gods a place can find. Heaven becomes more heavenly still, Earth acquires a heavenly thrill. Wherever Nature holds her sway Love's fragrant blooms their trace betray, There float her pinions still. Ah ! But that Aphrodite's glance Now beckons through yon moon-beam dance, Now from the sun-capped hill ; Did not the smiling Goddess bend From starry heights support to lend ; Nor sun nor moon nor starry light My cautious spirit could excite. Smiling love alone can lie Mirrored, Nature, in thine eye. Love inspires the silver rills. Bids them purl with more restraint, And a very soul instils In the nightingale's complaint. 'Tis Love, and ever Love, who plays On Nature's lute in Nature's praise. 50 THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE. Wisdom, even thou must yield Wiien my Goddess takes the field, Conquering even thee ! Though victor never yet has seen, Nor potentate, thy suppliant mien. To Love now bend the knee. Who taught thee the sublime ascent Up to the starry firmament Where sit the Gods in state ? Who tore the sacred veil away And showed thee where Elysium lay Beyond Death's narrow gate ? Should Love her guiding charm deny, Where were our immortality ? And could our senses seek and find. Without her aid, the master-mind ? Love can lead — and only Love — Souls to Nature's home above. Thanks it is to holy Love That the Gods are blessed above ; Thanks to Love it is mankind Near the Gods a place can find. Heaven becomes more heavenly still, Earth acquires a heavenly thrill. 51 E2 FORTUNE AND WISDOM At variance with a former friend, Fortune to Wisdom turned, and said : — *' My all on thee I will expend So thou become my friend instead ! ** All that I had, my very best, I gave him without more ado ; Yet e'er he has some new request. And calls me avaricious too. "Come, Sister, let us friendship swear; No longer slave at yonder plough ; With thee my fortune let me share, Here is enough for both, I trow." At this Dame Wisdom made reply, Wiping her forehead as she smiled : — ■ *' By his own hand thy friend may die : I need thee not — Get reconciled," 52 THE DIGNITY OF MANHOOD. I am a Man ! Who more than I ? If any, let him spring Into the light of God's free sky, And frisk his best and sing. God's own presentment I can claim, And can the die display ; The bourn from which the heavens came I know, nor fear the way. And well that I both dare and can : Let but a maiden pass, My spirit cries : — Thou art a Man ! And so I kiss the lass. A blush comes o'er the maiden fair, Her bodice grows too tight ; I am a Man, she is aware — That's why her dress is tight. How does she scream for grace if I Surprise her deshabille ! 1 am a Man ! Why did she cry ? She wishes me no ill. 53 THE DIGNITY OF MANHOOD. I am a Man ! It is enough, And in that name I dare A Kaiser's daughter to rebuff, Despite the rags I wear. Princesses at this golden spell Their charms to me unfold : Dost hear them call ? — Ha, mark it well, Ye varlets clad in gold ! I am a Man ! That ye may know When I my lyre install ; With triumph tones it seems to glow. Else would it only crawl. From out this same creative fount In which we men have birth. Powers divine and genius mount — All that is great on earth. Tyrants my talisman abhors, And spurns beneath its tread ; Or, failing that, as guide explores The regions of the dead. By Granicus my talisman Laid the proud Persian low. And when Rome German soil o'erran, Rome's might could overthrow. How proud the Roman looks, since first To Africa he came ! With fiery darts his eyeballs burst, As Hecla belches flame. 54 THE DIGNITY OF MANHOOD. Then comes a knave of jolly mien, And to the world he cries : — *' Proclaim that ye have Marius seen Where Carthage ruined lies ! " So cries the Roman in his pride, Still mighty in his fall. A man he is, and nought beside. Yet domineers o'er all. His grandsons thereupon began Their heritage to drain, And set to work, just as one man. To crow in dulcet strain. Shame on the miserable horde ! Wretches who treat in jest Man's lofty rights, man's high reward,. Great heaven's very best. They saunter aimlessly through life Like pumpkins rudely fraught As human heads by yokel's knife, And in their skulls is — nought. As in retorts a chemist tries An alcoholic wine. Their spirit to the devil flies, And they remain supine. A woman's looks their soul unman,, They dread to meet her eye ; And if they dared— yet never can — Why, they had better die. 55 THE DIGNITY OF MANHOOD And so an honest man they fear, His fortune gives them pain ; Who cannot make a man, can ne'er For man love entertain. And so I hold my head on high, And plume myself, and sing : — I am a Man ! Who more than I ! And frisk my best and sing. S6 TO A MORALIST. Why check youth's ardour with thy dull advice, And teach that love is labour thrown away ? Thou shiverst there amid the Winter's ice And speakst, contemptuous, of Golden May. Time was when thou didst storm the maidens' charms,- A hero of the waltzing crowd, forsooth — Carried a heaven-born burden in thine arms, And sippedst nectar from the lips of youth. If at that moment this terrestrial ball From its accustomed axis had been thrown, 'Tis likely thou wouldst ne'er have heard it fall. Absorbed in Julia's blandishments alone. Look back, then, kindly on that happy state : Even Philosophy will falter when The ageing pulses in their course abate : — Immortals never yet were born of men ! 'Tis well when wisdom, clarified by years, Infusions of some warm young blood receives. Leave it to denizens of higher spheres T' accomplish that which mortal ne'er achieves. And yet my earthly counsellor delights My heaven-begotten spirit to enchain. He will not let me rise to Angel heights. Let me as man, then, follow in his train. 57 THE GRIM COUNT EBERHARD OF WÜRTTEMBERG. Attend, I say, all ye who can ! I'll have you understand That many a right worthy man, And heroes ever in the van. Were born in Suabia's land. Edward and Charles I disregard : Frederick and Louis — Tush ! Why, all the set I would discard : — Give me our Count of Eberhard, Fierce as the storm-cloud's rush. And Ulrich too, his worthy son. Who loved the clash of steel ; By Ulrich, fighting once begun. No forward step was e'er undone In battle's dread appeal. The Reutlingers at our array Vow vengeance loud and deep, Keen for the laurels of the day ; . Right valiantly their sabres play, Or from their girdles peep. He fell upon them — but in vain. And came bespattered home. His father glanced in fierce disdain ; The youthful warrior fled amain, And tears began to come. 58 THE GRIM COUNT EBERHARD. Abide, ye rogues ! he cried, beware ! (Ashamed and smarting sore) For by my father's beard I swear This trifling error to repair And steep in burghers' gore. And soon the tumult raged again, And men and horses pressed To Doffingen with clanging train : Scarce could the youth his fury chain. And shouted with the best. Passed was the watchword of the day — It was ** the battle lost."— Like whirlwinds whistled round the fray, And smeared with blood we forced our way Amid the Lancer host. With lion rage the youthful knight Tosses his gleaming brand ; Before him wildly heaves the fight, Behind him oaths and groans unite, Lo, death on every hand. Ah ! woe is me, a sabre slash Full on his neck descends. His comrades haste to tend the gash In vain. — His teeth unconscious gnash. And his last breath he spends. The victor's onward path was stayed, Wept friend and foe alike. Then did the Count his knights upbraid : " Like other men my son is made ! Forward, my sons, and strike ! " 59 THE GRIM COUNT EBERHARD. With doubled rage the lances ply, All hearts for vengeance thrill ; Heap upon heap the bodies lie, Until pell-mell the burghers fly O'er wood and dale arfd hill. Then back with merry trumpet sound Into the camp we came ; And old and young with joyful bound Danced, as the foaming cup went round. Our triumph to proclaim. But our old Count — ay, what of him. Confronted with his dead ? Within his tent, alone and grim. He sits and views with eyelids dim The son whose soul has fled. And thus it is we deeply rue Our lord, whom we have lost ; The thunders did his arms endue, Him as our country's star we knew — Himself a hero-host ! Then, hearken to me all who can ! I'll have you understand That many a right worthy man, And heroes ever in the van, Were born in Suabia's land. 60 TO JOY. Joy, thou fair and sparkling" child, w Heaven-born Elysian maid, , We draw near with fervour wild And thy sanctuary invade. Thine enchantments bind again What the fashions set aside ; Friends and brothers men remain Where thy gentle pinions glide. Chorus. Approach, ye myriads, embrace ! To the whole world my kiss shall swell I •^^Obcs^a? V^ Brothers, beyond that starry sphere There must a loving Father dwell. He who happily succeeds In befriending a true friend, Whom a worthy woman leads — Such their triumph-cry may lend ! So may he who but one soul As his very own can claim : He who can none such enrol Let him quit our midst in shame ! 6i TO JOY. Chorus. By all dwellers on our globe v Sympathy must e'er be shown ; ^ Into star-land it can probe, Where is throned the great Unknown., All the world may draughts of joy c — From the breast of Nature take ; Good and ill alike employ Pains to trace joy's rosy wake. ^ ^ Kisses gave she and the grape, And the faithful, lifelong friend ; E'en the worm its joy can shape, Heavenward the cherubs tend. Chorus. High-placed myriads, will ye fall ? Dost thou fear thy Maker, world ? Seek him past yon shimmering pall Where the starlight is unfurled. Joy is like th' eternal springs ^^,^^ Which the wheels of Nature start, ^^ ■ Driving true with even swings \^ '^ In the world's great throbbing heart. Joy can coax the buds when shy. Summon suns from boundless space, Settle planets in the sky Which to seers have no place. Chorus. As the suns in glory roll. Joyous, through the heavenly plane, Press, my brethren, towards the goal Your victorious campaign. 62 TO JOY. Truth her mirrored rays projects, Joyful, on th' inquiring mind ; Joy the wanderer protects Who the path of right would find. High on Faith's illumined hills Gallantly her banners wave, And with angel voice she trills *Mid the choirs beyond the grave. Chorus. Myriads, your courage raise ! Suffer for that higher sphere. There, beyond the starry maze, A rewarding God will cheer. Who can e'er the Gods requite ? 'Tis enough like them to be. Grief and poverty unite With the joyful to agree. Vengeance let us set aside. And forgive our direst foe : Let no tears his conscience chide, Force him not remorse to know. Chorus. Cancelled be our roll of crime. Wiped away be every grudge ; God above those stars sublime Judges mortals as they judge. Joy in foaming beakers creams : — Influenced by the golden vine, Civilized the savage seems. Timid hearts with valour shine. 63 TO JOY. Let the generous flagon pass ; Brethren, in your places rise, To good fortune drain a glass, Effervescing to the skies ! Chorus, Stars salute thee as they sail, Seraphs sing thy hymn of praise ; To thy glorious spirit, hail, High above the twinkling maze ! Courage grant to real woe. Help where drops a guiltless tear ; Constancy on oaths bestow, Truth let foe and friend revere ! Manly pride before the throne Grant — no matter what the cost — Let the worthy gain their own, Be the brood of liars lost ! Chorus. Draw the circle nearer still. By this golden wine declare That your vows ye will fulfil ; By the judge of Heaven swear ! 64 THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. It comes, it comes — the haughty Southern fleet, (The very ocean 'neath its weight complains) Bearing a brand-new God, who has his seat 'Mid thousand thunders and the clank of chains. Of frowning citadels a floating host, (Its equal never stemmed the ocean's tides) Invincible men call it, as it glides Over the frighted waters toward the coast. Terror gives meaning to the boastful name, Terror its mien and attitude proclaim. Onward in slow and stately guise it pressed, (And Neptune staggering his burden bore) The end of all things hidden in its breast. And, as it neared, the tempest ceased to roar. Great-hearted Britain, mistress of the deep. Before thy shores the hostile navies stand. And threaten with their countless hosts to sweep From end to end thy happy, sea-girt land ! Woe to thy free-born race ! A thunder cloud, Pregnant with ill, hangs o'er it like a shroud. Who was it that this priceless treasure gained. And made thee Queen of all the nations round ? It was thyself, by tyrant kings constrained. Who that supremest law of empire found — 65 F THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. That glorious charter, which thy princes brings Down to the ranks, lifts citizens to kings. A million foes thine undisputed might At sea has vanquished in unequal fight. Let neighbouring peoples own with one accord Thy spirit wrought it and thy trusty sword ! Unhappy land ! Before these ponderous keels With thunders charged, thine ancient glory reels ; The very earth stands gazing with affright, And all free hearts beat faster at the sight, And noble souls await with sorrowing shame Th' impending ruin of thine ancient fame. But God almighty, watching from on high, Saw thy foe's lion-blazoned ensigns wave. ** Shall I," said He, " commit without a sigh Mine own dear Albion to a certain grave, Witness the fall of this heroic stock Which stems oppression like a wall of rock, Suffer extinction from this rolling sphere Of the one dam 'gainst Tyranny's career ? " " Never," He cried, '' this cradle of the Free, This home of manly valour shall go down ! " Th' Almighty breathed, and over every sea, To every wind the Armada's might was strown.^ 1 The last two lines refer to the medal which Queen Elizabeth caused to be struck in commemoration of her victory. It repre- sents a fleet foundering in a storm, and bears the inscription, Aßavit Deus, et dissipati sunt. 66 THE CONFLICT. Th'unequal strife no longer will I wage, Which but for Duty I had never fought ; Unless thou canst my soul's desire assuage, Virtue, this sacrifice may not be sought. And I have sworn, no matter what the cost. To subjugate my wishes to my will ! Here, take thy garland, which on me were lost ; Take it back. Virtue ; let me sin my fill. Ye resolutions of the past, away ! She loves me — forfeited thy garland lies. Happy the man who, frivolous and gay. Can fall, like me, so deep with careless eyes. She sees my youth pale 'neath the canker's taint, She notes my fleeting prime with cold regard. Marvels in silence at my self-restraint, And, generous, determines my reward. Mistrust, dear Soul, this more than angel grace ! Thy pity does but harden me to crime. Is there in life's immeasurable space. Like thee, another recompense sublime ? Is there a crime so tempting as the sin I ever seek to fly ? — Ah ! fate severe ! For could my virtue any credit win. In winning, 'twould for ever disappear. 67 F 2 RESIGNATION. I too was in Arcadia born, And Nature, watching o'er my bed, . To grant me happiness had sworn ; Yes, I was in Arcadia born, Yet tears throughout my youth were shed. Youth blossoms once, but never more ; And mine has ripened to decay. The silent God (whose aid implore) My lamp of life has shrouded o'er, And my illusion melts away. Upon thy dismal border line, Dreaded Eternity, I stand ; Thy fair credentials I resign Inviolate ; behold them thine ; No happiness can I command. Before thy throne I pour my wail. Mysterious arbitress unseen ; In yonder star, so goes the tale. Thou rulest o'er the judgment scale. Known as a true avenging queen 68 RESIGNATION. Here terrors on the evil glare, They say, while joys on virtue rain ; The crooked heart thou vi^illst lay bare, Divine obscurities declare. And sympathise with those in pain. Here be the exile's open door. Here end the sufferer's life of need. Now truth itself, of heaven born, By many shunned, by some forsworn, Bridled my life's impetuous speed. *' Futurity shall recompense — Thy youthful Present let me have : No further orders I dispense." — I yielded to her influence. And all my youthful pleasures gave. ** Give me the darling of thy heart, Thy very Laura must be mine ! Beyond the grave assuage the smart." — I tore her from my bleeding heart. And weeping laid her on the shrine. ** Does abnegation move the dead?" The world with mocking laughter cried. *' A lying tongue by tyrants sped. With visions false thy path has spread ; The vision past, canst thou abide ? " Then giggled the insidious throng : — ** A vision, which on law relies, Dost fear ? What of thy Gods so strong, Whose skill shall cure the world of wrong,. Who human needs with craft disguise ? " 69 RESIGNATION. **Thy Future has the grave revealed? Eternity y which thou dost boast Only because it lies concealed, In conscience' mirror has appealed To us like some portentous ghost." *' Life-like in form, but yet a cheat — A mummy to deceive the eye — The hopeful days of pleasure sweet To the cold mounded grave retreat ' — And this is Immortality ? " ** Hast thou — nay, let such falsehoods cease- For hope exchanged thy present hoard ? Six thousand years Death held its peace, Did ever corpse demand release To bring thee the Avenger's word ? " I saw Time's pinions climb thy shore While blooming Nature lagged behind ; A corpse-like form her aspect wore. The dead to quit their graves forbore, The godly promise I divined. To thee I sacrificed my joy. And here before thy throne I bow. No mocking herd can now annoy, Thy bounties all my thoughts employ ; Avenger, my reward allow ! ** Alike I love my children," cries Aloud a genius hid from sight. **Two flowers, mark it, are the prize Of the investigator wise : — Their names — Hope and Delight. 70 RESIGNATION. ** Who plucks the one must not profane With impious grasp the sister bloom. Believing nought, for pleasure strain ; Believing, dogma says — abstain ! The world's own annals are its doom. **Thou hopedst : here, then, thy reward j Thy faith thy fortunes did impress. Wise counsellors thou didst discard ; Do but one minute disregard, Eternity gives no redress." 71 THE GODS OF GREECE. What time the happy world was guided, Ye Gods, by your indulgent hand, When over happy men presided Fair beings born of Fable-land, Ah ! what another age existed When your mysterious rites were paid. When garlands for thy shrines were twisted, Venus, enchanting Cyprian maid. When luminous imagination Wrapped Truth in Fiction's airy fold. Then life's blood flowed throughout creation, And, wavelike, o'er its limits rolled. In nature then a nobler merit Man recognised with grateful love. And all things felt the hallowed spirit. Whose charm betrayed the Gods above. Where now, if we shall trust the sages. Insensate whirls an orb of fire. There Helios in far-off ages, Majestic, drove his golden tire. Nymphs sported in these mountain passes, A Dryad dwelt in yonder tree, While winsome naiads from their vases The silver-twinkling burns set free. 72 THE GODS OF GREECE. Good service wrought these laurel bushes, Sleeps Niobe in yonder stone, Sad Syrinx wails amid those rushes, This grove hears Philomela's moan. When her Persephone was ravished This brook received Demeter's tears, And here Cythera vainly lavished Her suasion on unheeding ears. The Gods themselves their homage yielded To daughters sprung of Pyrrha's race, And for their sakes Hyperion wielded The shepherd's crook with lowly grace. For then were Heroes, Gods, and Mortals United in the bond of love ; Equal in Amathusian portals. Men bowed with those who rule above. All sceptic gloom and dulness vanished Where your inspiring cult was known ; Untuneful souls were rightly banished. And glad contentment ruled alone. Then Beauty for itself was treasured ; No need your godlike joys to rein While blushing Nymphs and graces measured The limits of your happy chain. Your shrines were decked in gayest dressing, The Heroes in your honour strove. And for the Isthmian laurels pressing, Intent, the thundering chariots drove. The changing dance in bright procession Before your glowing altars wound. And triumph-crowns with light oppression Your free and fragrant tresses bound. 73 THE GODS OF GREECE. The thyrsus-bearers' cries are pealing, The leopards in their harness strain, And Fauns and Satyrs gaily reeling, Herald the jolly Bacchus' train. Half-frenzied Maenads wildly crying, The glories of the wine-cup boast In words and action, ever plying , With fuller bowls their willing host. No grisly spectre dared to sadden The parting mortal at his death. For angel-guards were there to gladden, Then quenched the flame with loving breath, Necessity by airy visions Was measured on a kinder scale. And even Destiny's decisions Seemed milder through a human veil. The friends of yore were re-united On still Elysium's shadowy plain ; True lover's vows afresh are plighted. The victor's team careers again. Once more the wail of Linus rises, Her spouse reviews Alceste's charmSj His friend Orestes recognises, And Philoctetes finds his arms. With worthier prize was he commended Who trod the stony path of right, And Heroes, when their course was ended, Shared with the blest eternal light. The Gods with silent acquiescence Beheld the summoned dead depart ; On high the great Twin brethren's presence Gave courage to the pilot's heart. 74 THE GODS OF GREECE. Farewell ! Thou happy world, whose graces Attested nature's earliest Spring ; Now can we only seek thy traces As fable tells and fairies sing. Alas ! the happy scene has vanished, Before me yawns an empty frame ; The godhead, from the picture banished, Leaves but a shade, a thought, a name. Those buds have all untimely perished. Before the scathing Northern blast. Farewell, ye Gods, so dearly cherished ; Ye pass away that One may last. In vain I seek with sad devotion Selene in the starry dome ; The woods reply not, and the ocean, — Unhe ednrg; L hurrt s I h^ ele i nalfo r ain; — Blind to the joy which she dispenses, And careless of her own great name, Unconscious that my yearning senses Demand her all-inspiring flame ; Whose pulse no longer Art can waken, Blank as the stroke which marks the hour, Nature herself, by God forsaken. B-Qws, slavish, to a soqlless..pawer.i Behold ! to-day her grave she hollows, To-morrow sees her rise anew ; Month upon month serenely follows. The days march on in order due. The Gods depart, in sorrowing token That happy childhood is out-grown ; The leading strings at length are broken, The ungrateful world can soar alone. ^ /. Wandering in despair, With his noble limbs bedight In a shirt of hair. Just a little hut he rears, And from thence he sees Where the convent wall appears 'Mid the linden trees. From the earliest sunbeam's slope Till the evening glow There he sits in eager hope. Hoping through his woe. 191 THE KNIGHT OF TOGGENBURG. On the cloister many an hour Did his glances hang, Watching o'er his darling's bower For the lattice' clang ; Till the dear presentment showed Like some sculptured queen, And in reflex glory flowed O'er the tranquil scene. Then he laid him down to sleep, Deadening his pain With the thought that dawn would peepy. Morning break again. Thus he sat for years on years. Hiding every pang. Only quickening his ears For the lattice' clang. Till the dear presentment showed Like some sculptured queen. And in reflex glory flowed O'er the tranquil scene. So he sat till, on a day, Passed his flickering breath, But the lattice o'er the way Claimed his eyes in death. 192 THE FIGHT WITH THE DRAGON. Why is the crowd thus rushing down The humming streets ? What ails the town ? Does conflagration spread alarm In Rhodes ? Else why this anxious swarm ? Above the surging people high A Knight on horseback I espy : Behind him through the startled throng Some monstrous beast is dragged along. It seems to bear a dragon's shape, With alligator's jaws agape ; All press to see th' unwonted sight, The dragon and the gallant Knight. A thousand voices cry with glee : *nt is the very dragon, see ! Who slew our flocks and herds ; but now This valiant Knight hath laid him low. Many a one of noble worth To tempt this strife has sallied forth, But never left the dreadful field : All honour to the victor yield ! " — Then the procession passes on Up to the convent of St. John, Within whose grey and solemn gate The Knights are met in high debate. 193 o THE FIGHT WITH THE DRAGON. Before the noble master there The youth appears with modest air ; Behind him surges up the crowd, And fills the stair with uproar loud. — He broke the silence first, and quoth : " I have fulfilled my knightly troth, The dragon who laid waste the land Is dead, the victim of my hand. The wanderer may stroll again, The herdsman scour the fertile plain. The pilgrim to the shrine may wind His toilsome path with easy mind." Stern looked the Prince, stern was his tone : **The herd's part was nobly done. 'Tis valour which adorns the Knight, And thine is proved unflecked and bright ; But say, in what must first consist His duty who would war for Christ, Who wears the cross upon his mail ? " — And all who heard him speak grew pale. Replied the Knight with noble grace. Though bending low his burning face : — *' Who dares that glorious sign display, And worthily, must first obey." " And this first call," the Prince replied, " Thine insolence has set aside. The conflict under ban declared Thy wanton mood, my son, has dared." — In modest tones exclaimed the youth : ** Sire, judge me when thou knowst the truth, For truly thought I to fulfil The law's intention and thy will. 194 THE FIGHT WITH THE DRAGON. 'Twas not in unconsidered rage I went the monster to engage ; By craft and well-conceived address I fondly hoped to win success. *' Five of our order, each the boast Of our religion had been lost, Impelled by zeal, when thy command Forbade the strife to all our band. But all the while my moody breast With thirst for battle was possessed ; Yea, in my dreams at dead of night I tossed and panted for the fight ; And as the morning dawned again And made me conscious of my pain, My heart with sullen wrath would swell, And straight I vowed to break the spell. ** Then would I ask myself this truth : What makes the man, adorns the youth ? What did those doughty men of old. Of whose .renown the minstrels told, Who for their God's eternal fame Set darkened heathenesse aflame ? In their adventurous course they freed The world from many a monstrous breed ; The lion's fury they assuaged. The Minotaur in arms engaged. Eager their life's blood to expend The weak to help, the poor defend. ** But is the Infidel alone By Christian sword to be o'erthrown ? Are none but Pagan Gods his foes ? No ! every ill he must oppose ; 195 O 2 THE FIGHT WITH THE DRAGON. An universal guardian he To save the world from tyranny. — Yet must his valour have recourse To cunning, wit must cope with force. — So thinking, oft my steps I bent Upon the monster's trail intent ; Then, all at once my toil was crowned, And loud I cried : — * The way is found ! * ** And came to thee, and, Sire, made bold My homesick cravings to unfold. Thou heardst my prayer with favour kind. — Th' estranging sea soon lay behind. — — Scarce had I reached my native land Ere I engaged a master hand The dragon's counterpart to frame. Each well-known lineament the same. On short mis-shapen feet, behold ! The monstrous carcase, fold on fold ; And on his back each glittering scale Protects him like a sheath of mail. *' His swaying throat strains out before,. Appalling as Hell's very door, His jaws their monstrous width display As though they hankered for their prey^ And gleaming in the depths below His teeth appear in threatening row. His tongue with keenest metal vies, And lightnings sparkle in his eyes. Where the portentous body ends A loathsome serpent's form depends, And round and round itself it coils As if some foe were in its toils. 196 THE FIGHT WITH THE DRAGON. *' I formed it thus to nature true, And coloured it a grizzly hue : 'Twas salamander, dragon, snake. In one, from some envenomed brake. — Then, when the image was complete, I chose a brace of bull-dogs fleet, Alert and sturdy, of a race Inured the fierce wild-ox to face ; And cheered them on with blindfold rage The dreadful monster to engage ; To pin him with each pointed fang. And on his flanks remorseless hang. ** And where their teeth m.ight best avail,. Upon the belly's lighter mail. There, in the weakest place, I told The dogs to fix their stubborn hold. Now would I mount my Arab steed, (A courser of the rarest breed) And ripe to hand my darts dispose. — Then, as my courser's mettle rose. Sudden I charged, and made him feel The fury of my spur-shod heel. And hurled my dart with fervent aim In hope to pierce the giant frame. " My frightened steed might prance and rear And champ his bit in natural fear. The hounds might shirk the dreadful view, I paused not till their trade they knew. Daily the practice I maintained Till thrice the moon had waxed and waned ;, At length when every point was clear With flowing sail I brought them here. 197 THE FIGHT WITH THE DRAGON. — As yet three days are scarcely o'er Since safe I landed on this shore ; I scarce allowed my limbs to rest, Yearning the mighty scheme to test. *' For hotly burned my heart to know The land again was plunged in woe; But now some herdsmen had been found All mangled near that marshy ground, And taking heart alone for guide, I vowed the issue to abide. My plans to my esquires I showed, Then straight the well-trained steed bestrode. And guided by the noble hounds Through secret paths, by devious rounds. Concealed from every human eye, 1 rushed the monster to defy. *'Thou knowest, Sire, the little church High on its rocky mountain perch. Built on the pious master's plans. Which all the island's limits scans. Although it looks so small and bare, A miracle is hidden there : The Virgin with the infant Child, (By the three holy Sovereigns willed) Thrice thirty steps the pilgims tread To reach the summit overhead : Arrived, the Saviour's presence near Soon dissipates their dizzy fear. ** Beneath the church a cavern deep Burrows into the rocky steep. Dripping with moisture from the fell. Wherein no ray from heaven may dwell. 198 THE FIGHT WITH THE DRAGON. Here crouched the reptile, night and day Intently watching- for his prey. And thus the hellish creature sate, A sentinel at God's own gate ; And as some toiling pilgrim strode Unconscious, past his grim abode. The monster, bursting from the gloom, Would drag him to his awful doom. *' But ere I joined the deadly strife I mounted to the highest cliff; Kneeling before the heavenly child, With God my soul I reconciled. And in the holy place I stand And gird me with my naked brand, Then gripping firm my trusty lance, Down to the battle I advance. In rear I leave th' attendant train, To each his duties I explain. And springing lightly on my steed. Commend to God my urgent need. ** Scarce had I reached the level ground Ere joyous bays each gallant hound ; My frightened horse begins to rear, And pants and trembles in his fear. For close at hand in placid coil. Basking upon the sun-baked soil, The monster spreads his hideous mail. Madly the dogs their foe assail ; But quick as lightning they withdraw When he distends his mighty jaw, And belches forth a poisoned stream Which whistles like the jackal's scream. 199 THE FIGHT WITH THE DRAGON. *' But soon their courage comes again, Once more they charge with might and main, Meanwhile I cause my spear to fly With fury 'gainst the monster's thigh ; But, like a slender reed, it fails To penetrate his armoured scales ; And ere the stroke I can renew My courser rears and shuns the view, Starting before that glassy stare, And sidling from the poisoned air. Backward he reels with frenzied speed : — And now my case is sore indeed ! — ** With lightning speed to earth I spring, And swift my naked sword unsling ; But never blow, however fierce. Prevails the flinty hide to pierce. Anon his tail comes lashing round. And sends me reeling to the ground ; Within the gaping jaws I see The cruel fangs expecting me, When the good hounds with furious cry Straight at the monster's belly fly. And fix their teeth and rend amain So that he bellows, mad with pain. ''And ere he can shake off their grip On to my feet once more I leap, And marking well th' unguarded part, I drive my blade into his heart Up to the very hilt. His blood Springs high, a black envenomed flood ; Reeling, he falls inanimate, And bears me down beneath his weight. 200 THE FIGHT WITH THE DRAGON. — My senses fail : and when at length I wake with fresh-recovered strength, I see my servants leaning o'er The Dragon dead and steeped in gore." Then loud applause, till now suppressed. Bursts forth from every hearer's breast, While thus the Knight concludes his tale. Aloft the very rafters quail, As to the vaulted roof arise In echoing storm th' approving cries. ** A crown of triumph should endow," The chapter shout, ''the hero's brow." And all the folk without the gate Would witness his triumphant state. But dark and stern the master stands. And silence in the hall commands. Quoth he : '' 'Tis true, thy valiant hand Hath slain the terror of our land ; But, Godlike to the folk below, Thou comest back thine Order s foe. An evil thing thy soul possessed. As noisome as the vanquished pest. The serpent round the heart which clings, And discord and corruption brings. That is the headstrong stubborn mood Which by no law can be subdued. Our Order's holy peace alloys, And happiness on earth destroys. " Courage the Mamlouk will display, The Christian's part is to obey ; Here where the Lord of power and might Thought fit in menial garb t' alight, 20I THE FIGHT WITH THE DRAGON, The Fathers on this holy ground Resolved our covenant to found, And the first duty to fulfil Was to place bounds on selfish will. Since empty fame has stirred thine heart, I bid thee from my sight depart. The sacred yoke who will not bear Loses the right the Cross to wear." At this a thrill pervades the crowd, The hall resounds with murmurs loud, As all the Brethren grace implore. But, gazing mutely on the floor. The noble youth his cloak removes. Salutes the strong, stern hand he loves, And goes. — All look in blank dismay, When soft the master bids him stay. Crying, *' Embrace me now^ my Son, A harder battle thou hast won. Receive this Cross : it is the prize Of meekness and self-sacrifice." 2Q2 r THE WALK TO THE FOUNDRY. A pious youth was Fridolin, And in all godly fear He held the Countess of Savern Who was his mistress dear. She was so gentle and so good ; And e'en in her more hasty mood, He would have hastened to fulfil Her every wish with hearty will. From the first dawning streak of day Until the vesper bell His only wish was to obey, In duty to excel. And did his lady counsel rest, Into his eyes the tear-drops pressed ; He thought his duty left undone If not by wearying efforts shown. Him, then, o'er all the menial train The Countess chose to raise ; From her fair lips did ever rain Unmeasured words of praise. Her servant he no longer seemed, Rather her darling son esteemed ; Upon his handsome face her eye Was ever dwelling joyfully. 203 THE WALK TO THE FOUNDRY. Thereat in huntsman Robert's heart A dark resentment rose. (With lust to play some cruel part Long time his bosom glows.) To the hot-blooded Count he went, Whose ear was all too lightly lent, And coming from the hunting field The seeds of doubt he thus instilled. ** How fortunate, Sir Count, art thou," Quoth he with cunning deep, ** Suspicion's poisoned voice, I trow, Ne'er mars thy golden sleep ; For what a noble wife is thine. Girdled with chastity divine ; Loyal fidelity t' ensnare Drives the seducer to despair." Then rolls the Count his flashing eye : ** What dost thou tell me, knave? On woman's virtue to rely — As fickle as the wave ? A flattering tongue she aye demands. My faith on sounder footing stands. None dares, I hope, his eyes to turn Upon the Countess of Savern ! " The other spake : ** Thou thinkst aright ; Only thy passing scorn Should he, who so presumes, excite, — A fool and menial born — Who on his mistress dares to raise His wicked thoughts and wanton gaze." — "What ! " — thus the trembling Count began — " Dost speak of any living man ? " 204 THE WALK TO THE FOUNDRY. *' Was that which filled the mouths of men Still from my Lord concealed ? Then let not what has 'scaped thy ken By me be first revealed." — *' Speak ! for thy life, thou villain, speak," The other cries with frenzied shriek : *' Who dares on Cunigond to look? " *' — Well, it was of the Page I spoke. *' The youth is of no common frame," He craftily pursued. While hot and cold the Count became, And quivered as he stood. *'Then didst thou never notice, Sir, That he had eyes alone for her ? For thee at table had no care. But ever languished round her chair? ** See here the verses which he sent His passion to confess " — ** Confess ! " — *' And which, impertinent, For mutual ardour press. The Countess, with compassion filled. Doubtless the truth from thee concealed : My hasty words I now regret ; — But, Sir, what cause for thee to fret ? " Into the little wood hard by The Count in fury turns, To where in roaring industry His iron-furnace burns. By many a busy toiling hand Early and late the blast is fanned ; The sparks out-fly, the bellows groan As though to fuse the solid stone. 205 THE WALK TO THE FOUNDRY. The might of fire, the water's force, Are here united found ; The mill-wheel in the current's course Goes ever round and round. All day and night the workshops ring, In time the ponderous hammers swing,, And yielding to those mighty blows, The very iron plastic grows. Two of the men he bids attend, And thus explains their task : — ** The one whom first I hither send„ And who proceeds to ask : — * Have ye obeyed our master well ? * Him cast into yon fiery hell, Till but his ashes shall remain, Nor let him vex my sight again ! "^ Thereat rejoiced th' inhuman pair,. With murderous lust possessed^ For hard and cold as iron were The hearts within their breast. With zeal the bellows do they ply And heap the raging furnace high. And with bloodthirsty zest prepare The fated victim to ensnare. Then Robert to his fellow cries With black hypocrisy : — ** Hither, my lad, at once ; arise ! My lord has need of thee." The master speaks to Fridolin : " Make haste the iron-works to gain. And ask the men who labour there If my behests have had their care." 206 THE WALK TO THE FOUNDRY. Replied the youth : ** I haste to go." And girded him with speed : But paused, reflecting that she too His services might need. Unto the Countess then he went : — " Down to the foundry I am sent ; What can I do to please thee, say? For thy commands I first obey," On this the lady of Savern Replied in gentlest tone : '*'To hear the blessed mass I yearn, But suffering lies my son. So go, my child, and, kneeling, tell A pious prayer for me as well, And if repentant be thy prayer, I too, perchance, thy grace may share." And on this welcome errand bound, He took his course amain With joy, and time had scarcely found The village end to gain. When on his ear in tones sublime Resounded the sonorous chime Which, telling of forgiveness sent, Bids sinners to the Sacrament. ** Do not the loving God evade When in thy path He lies ! " So saying, for the church he made. No sounds of worship rise. 'Tis harvest, and the reaper wields His sickle in the glowing fields. No choir is present to sustain The mass with disciplined refrain. 207 THE WALK TO THE FOUNDRY. The resolution straight he made The Sacristan to play ; '' That which leads heavenward," he said,. '^ Is surely no delay ! " About the Priest with mien abased The stole and bands he humbly placed,. Then set himself with pious care The holy vessels to prepare. And when the altar he had dressed He meekly took his stand, As an assistant, by the Priest, The Office in his hand. To left and right in turn he knelt, And on each slightest signal dwelt, And when the holy Sanctus came Rang thrice to greet the sacred name. And as the Priest devoutly bends And o'er the altar, calm, The very present God extends In his uplifted palm, The Sacristan proclaims the spell Upon the clear and silvery bell. And all kneel down, and every breast Is crossed before Christ manifest. Each function thus in order due He did with ready thought ; The ritual of God's house he knew, By inner conscience taught. Nor wearied till the service ceased, . And to the parting folk the Priest The Dominus vobiscum said, And a devout departure bade. 208 THE WALK TO THE FOUNDRY. First all to order he restored And set in fair array, And swept the sanctuary adored, And then he went his way With mind at peace along- the road To where the iron foundry stood ; And the full number to uphold, A dozen Paternosters told. And when the chimneys came in view, He shouted to the hands : — ** Have ye been careful, lads, to do Our noble Count's commands ? " A leer upon their features came. And pointing to the raging flame ; — ** His case is settled^'''' they replied ; *' The Count will learn our work with pride." Straight to his master this reply With utmost haste he took. Who gazed upon him drawing nigh With wonder-stricken look. "Unhappy one, whence com'st thou, say?" *' Sir, from the iron foundry." — '' Nay ! Then on the road thou hast delayed ! " ** Sir, it was only while I prayed. * * For when this day I left thy side (For this thy pardon. Sir !) First to my mistress I applied : — My duty is to her. — The holy mass she bade me hear, And this I did with joy sincere, And told four Aves at the shrine For her salvation and for thine." 200 p THE WALK TO THE FOUNDRY. At this the Count in agony Shuddered with bitter pain : — '' And at the foundry what reply, My lad, didst thou obtain ? " *' My lord, their answer was obscure, For, pointing to the furnace door, * His case is settled^'' they replied, *The Count will learn our work with pride.* '* "And Robert," thus the Count pursued. Seized with a chilly sweat, " I sent him also to the wood : Surely, ye must have met ? " ** Sir, neither wood nor open field Did any trace of Robert yield." *'Then," cried the Count with awe-struck tone» " The will of God Himself is done ! " And gentler than had been his wont, He took his servant's hand, Led him the Countess to confront, (Who failed to understand) And said : " This child is angel pure : Let him, I pray, thy grace secure ! If evil counsellers were ours. On him the grace of Heaven showers ! " 2IO THE COUNT OF HAPSBURG. At Aix-la-Chapelle in his regal array- King Rudolph ascended his place In the hoary old castle, to honour the day — The feast of his crowning to grace. The dishes were served by the Prince of the Rhine, The Lord of Bohemia handed the wine ; And all the Electorate — seven to wit — (As stars in the firmament circle the sun) The Potentate hail, and leave nothing undone, No charge of their dignified office omit. And under the canopied balcony's frame Encouragements loyal and loud Half deadened the blare of the trumpets' acclaim From the dense and aff'ectionate crowd. For here was an end of the period dread Without an imperial governing head ; A judge among men was established again. No need to avoid the inconsequent blow. The mild and the meek could their terrors forgo, And past was the bold braggadocio's reign. And the Emperor brandished his goblet of gold. And said in a satisfied tone : — "This feast my imperial state will uphold, The banquet is worthy my throne ; 211 p 2 THE COUNT OF HAPSBURG. But where is the minstrel high thoughts to suggest,. And stir to emotion the chords of my breast With learning illustrious, music divine ? For so I was favoured when even a boy ; And what, as a Knight, I was wont to enjoy, As Monarch, I swear shall be certainly mine." Then out of the circle of princes around The heavy-girt minstrel appears, And his dignified forehead with silver was crowned, For he bowed 'neath the weight of his years. Sweet melody sleeps in his golden strings, And of love requited the minstrel sings. He sings of all that is highest and best. What heart can hope, and the mind esteem — " But what at this feast were a worthy theme ? What is the Emperor's own behest ? " " Unworthy it were to dictate to a bard," The affable Emperor cries ; '* To a loftier master he turns his regard. His topic the moment supplies. For just as the hurricane screams through the air, And its turbulent origin none can declare, As waters arise from mysterious deeps. The song of the bard from his consciousness flows, And life on the sensitive feeling bestows Which deep in the soul half inanimate sleeps." Then hastened the quivering fingers to trace Melodious measures and clear ; And he chanted : — ''A hero rode forth to the chase Pursuing the fugitive deer. On his arrogant courser he trotted before While his arms, in attendance, a menial bore. 212 THE COUNT OF HAPSBURG. And as he rode over the wandering plain A silvery tinkle saluted his ears — 'Tis a priest who " the Host" in its majesty rears^ And a reverend acolyte comes in his train. "And the Count in humility bowed to the ground^ Uncovering, as beseemed ; Acknowledging Him with an ardour profound Who the whole of mankind redeemed. Now the brook which babbled across the way To a furious torrent was swelled that day, And the wanderer threatened with ominous force ; So laying the Elements down at his side, Barefooted, the priest with a confident stride Affronted the torrent's imperious course. * ' * What doest thou ? ' shouted the Count in surprise, — * My Lord, I am fain to repair To the bed of a poor fellow-creature who dies, And pines for the heavenly fare : But lo ! as I reached the familiar side, The bridge was engulfed by the thunderous tide And carried away by the watery waste. To bear to the sufferer heavenly aid Barefooted I now would endeavour to wade, And traverse the flood in importunate haste.* ** Then yielded the Knight his caparisoned steed And handed the sumptuous rein. That the suffering man might be served in his need,, The Priest from no duty abstain. Then mounting himself to his menial's place. Contented, he followed the joys of the chase.-— Meanwhile, the good priest had his errand achieved,. And his eye with a genuine gratitude burned The following morn, as he humbly returned The steed to the Count who his care had relieved. 213 THE COUNT OF HAPSBURG. ** * Now Heaven forbid,' in humility cried The Count, ' that to trumpet or horn That courser again I should dare to bestride Which my very Creator has borne ! An thou must refuse him as spoil of thine own, Attribute him then to God's service alone ! To God I commit him, who wields the control Of honour, of all my terrestrial wealth. Of all that 1 value in power and health. The blessing of life, and the gift of a Soul.' *' ' Now God the Almighty, whose fostering care Attends to the cry of the weak. Grant you now and ever such honour to wear As you for His person bespeak. Thy power. Sir Knight, we can all understand, And thy prowess is blazoned through Switzerland. Six daughters thou cherishest charming and fair. Now may they,' he cried in a passionate tone, * Be mothers of whole generations unknown, And a governing crown may each one of them share ! ' '* Then, deep in reflection, the Emperor mused, And thought over days gone by ; And as he regarded the singer, confused, His meaning he read in his eye. The face of the priest to his memory rose, And, dreading his swift-welling tears to expose, He buried his lineaments under his cloak. Then all who surrounded the Emperor's throne Perceive that the Count and the Kaiser are one, And blessings upon their good master invoke. 214 THE GLOVE. Before his Lion Court, Keen for the tourney's sport, King Francis sat on a day. Around were the mighty ones of the land, And up in a balcony, close at hand, The ladies in bright array. And as with his finger a sign he made. Wide opened the gates in the palisade ; A lion is seen With stately mien. He glares around, But makes no sound ; He yawns disdain, And shakes his mane. And stretching once more, Lies down on the floon Another sign is made by the King A neighbouring portal open to fling — With a furious crash And a ponderous dash A tiger springs in. The lion he views. And with roaring pursues. And lashes his tail Like the sweep of a flail ; 215 THE GLOVE He exhibits his fangs, And cautiously hangs At a distance secure From the Hon demure, And snarls and howls — Then quietly prowls And lies at the lion's side. Again a signal is made by the King. The doors of a den are opened wide, And forth a couple of leopards glide. With lust of battle they prowl around, Then furious on to the tiger bound. But they succumb to the terrible paws. And next the lion opens his jaws And roars aloud : then all is still. With glaring eyes with lust which thrill, There the terrible beasts of prey, Ranged in an awful circle, lay. Then some fair hand from the terrace above Into the lists let fall her glove. Fluttering down from the gallery gay. Between the lion and tiger it lay. With a bantering tone fair Cunigonde To the Knight Delorges cried : — " An thy love for me, Sir Knight, be as fond As often thou hast sighed, Then bring me, I pray thee, my glove again ' The Knight, unanswering, vaulted amain Into the lists from above. With confident stride and an easy grace He boldly affronted that horrible place, And rescued the delicate glove. 216 THE GLOVE. With terrified wonder the stirring" sight Was witnessed by every lady and knight, And as he returned with the glove in his grip His praises resounded from lip to lip. And Cunigonde with a tender glance, Which seemed to augur his fortunate chance, Stepped forward her lover to greet. But he hurled the rescued glove in her face *' Thy thanks, my Lady, are out of place ! " —And they parted, never to meet. 217 THE VEILED IMAGE AT SAIS. A youth there was who, burning with a thirst For knowledge, to Egyptian Sais came In hopes the wisdom of the Priests to learn. Some grades his ready wit soon left behind, But his inquiring spirit urged him on Until the Priest could hardly satisfy Th' inquirer's zeal. — " Why, what do I possess," Exclaimed the youth, '* unless possessed of all? Is there, then, here a greater and a less? And are thy verities, as fancy bids. Only a sum which, be it great or small, May be obtained and utilised at will ? Are they not indivisible and one ? Take from a perfect harmony one tone, Deprive the rainbow of a single tint. And what remains is nothing, if there fail Complete perfection in those notes and hues/' And thus conversing, once they found themselves Wandering into a sequestered fane, Where to his wonderment the youth observed An image deeply veiled, of giant size. And turning to his guide : " What," he demands, *' Does yonder veil beneath its folds conceal ? " " The Truth," is the reply.—" What," cried the boy,, '' 'Tis nothing else but Truth that I pursue, And must I find that just that Truth is veiled? " 218 THE VEILED IMAGE AT SAIS. ''That with the Deity thou must arrange," Replied the Priest. " No mortal, 'tis ordained, Shall lift this veil till I do so myself. And he who with unconsecrated hand Shall earlier the mystery expose, He, saith the God "— '' Well ? "— " He shall see the Truth." *' A strange oracular decree ! and thou, Hast thou thyself the secret never probed ? " ** I ? No indeed ! And have not even felt So tempted." — "That I can not understand. If but this veil divided me from Truths" — ** And a command, my son," struck in his guide. " More weighty than perchance thou dost divine » Is this thin gauze — light truly to thine hand. But on thy conscience hundredweights it loads." O'erwhelmed in thought, homeward the youth re- turned ; But the consuming eagerness to know Robbed him of sleep, he tossed upon his couch, And rose at midnight. — To the temple straight, In spite of him, his faltering footsteps turned. An easy task it was to scale the wall. And with one leap the bold adventurer stands Right in the inner precincts of the fane. Here he makes pause, and notices with awe The lonely, lifeless silence which prevails, Only disturbed by the re-echoing clang Of his own footfall in the secret vault. Above, athwart the breaches in the dome The moon projects a pale and silvery ray. And, awful as a very-present God, Clear in the shadow of the arched recess In its long shroud the image brightly gleams. 219 THE VEILED IMAGE AT SAIS. Anon advancing with uncertain stride, He lifts his hand the holy thing to touch, When hot and cold his bones alternate thrill, And by an unseen arm he is repulsed. " Unhappy man, what wouldst thou do?'^ So cries Within his consciousness a warning voice. " Wouldst thou presume the holiest to tempt? No mortal, so the oracle declared. Shall raise this veil till it is raised by me," " Thus spoke he, but did not the speaker add : — * Whoever lifts this veil shall see the Truth ? ' " ** Be what there may behind, raise it I will." In rising tones he cries : — '' I will behold ! " *' Behold!" Thus does the mocking echo make reply. The last is said : — and he has drawn the veil. " Now," ye will ask, *' what object met his gaze ? " I know not. — Void of consciousness and pale, So on the morrow was he prostrate found By the attending Priests at Isis' feet. Whate'er he saw, whatever then he learned His lips have never told : but gone for aye Was all the former gladness of his life, And sorrow bore him to an early grave. ^* W^oe be to him," his warning voice would say When urgent questioners around him pressed, ** Woe be to him who seeks for Truth through sin ! For Truth so found no happiness will yield." 220 THE PARTITION OF THE WORLD, *' Here, take the world," cried mighty Zeus, addressing Mankind at large from his high throne above. *' I give it you for ever u^ith my blessing ; But share it with fraternal love." Then hastened every hand to the partition t With equal ardour young and aged came. The crops aroused the husbandman's ambition, The young blood fixed upon the game. The merchant ran to fill his stores with treasure, The Abbot singled out the oldest wine, The King blocked roads ,and bridges at his pleasure. And cried : ''A tithe of all is mine," Just at the last, when all had been provided, The Poet came : he came from far away. Alas ! no more remained to be divided, And all things owned some master's sway. ^* Ah ! Woe is me I am I alone neglected, Of all mankind thy dearest, truest son ? " Thus wailing loud, in attitude dejected He crouched before Jove's awful throne. ** If thou to dwell in dreamland hast elected," Replied the God, *' lay not the blame on me. Where wast thou when the sharing was effected ? " *' I was," the Poet said, *' by thee." 221 THE PARTITION OF THE WORLD. *' Mine eye upon thy countenance was dwelling", Thy heavenly harmony entranced mine ear ; Forgive the mind thine influence compelling Rendered oblivious of this sphere." ** What can I do ? " said Zeus, " for all is given ; The harvest, sport, the markets, all are seized. But an thou choose to live with me in heaven, Come when thou willst, and I shall be well pleasedJ 222 THE STRANGE MAIDEN. A vale there was, whose simple folk Perceived with each returning year, Just as the earliest larks awoke, A strange and lovely maid appear. Her birth the valley could not boast. Where she had come from none could tell ; And every trace of her was lost The moment she had bid farewell. Her presence caused an honest mirth AH hearts and spirits to invade. And yet her dignity and worth Familiarity forbade. Enchanting blooms and fruits she bore With gay profusion in her hand, Grown on some more prolific shore, The products of a sunnier land. To every one she gave a share — To this some fruit, to that a bloom ; And whether young or bowed with care, All turned their footsteps richer home. Welcome were all, but if by chance, Hand clasped in hand, some lovers passed, For them was her most favoured glance, And they received her very best. 223 THE IDEAL AND LIFE. / Calm and transparent, as a mirror bright ' Flows Life along with Zephyr wings bedight Where dwell the blest in their Olympian state^ Moons may decay, and generations wane ; The roses of their godlike youth remain. Immutable, amid the general fate. A timid choice is granted to mankind 'Twixt sensual happiness and peace of soul. Only upon celestial brows are joined The two united under one control. Wouldst thou on earth aspire a God to be. And of the regions of the dead be free, See that thou pluck not of the garden's fruit ! Enough upon its sheen to feast thine eyes, / For all too soon some new desire will rise / Possession's transient pleasures to confute. Why, Styx himself, who ninefold trammels bound About her, could not Ceres' daughter stay : She grasped the apple, and thenceforth was bound The -will of dismal Orcus to obey. The body leans upon those powers alone Which influence Fate's darkest, dreariest zone ; But free from pressure of the passing storm, The playfellow of Nature at its best. Meanders in the precincts of the blest, Divine 'mid deities — Ideal Form. 224 3 THE IDEAL AND LIFE. If thou wouldst rise upon celestial wings, The little pains of earth thou must ignore ; Abandon count of mere terrestrial things, And to the realms of the Ideal soar ! / Young ever, and from earthly blemish free, / In light of perfect uniformity, Here is man's image by the Gods designed. As silent phantom forms which lived of yore Gleam when they wander on the Stygian shore, So these, within the heavenly frame inshrined. Once had their place, before th' immortal fell Down to the dark sarcophagus of earth. If in the world the scales uncertain dwell, 'T is there that victory proclaims its birth. / ^'T is not your limbs from battle to excuse, -^ Nor in the weary courage to infuse, That the victorious banner flutters here, Implacable, although you fain would rest, Life hurries you along upon its breast, And Time involves you in its wild career. And should the pinioned ardour of the soul Shrink fr^jmtlie threatened limits to its flight. Look down at last upon your well-earned goal From Beauty's calm and enviable height. If it be worth to govern and protect, One champion 'gainst another to project. Fortune and honour in the lists to gain, There may audacity be wrecked on force, - And as the chariots thunder in their course, They mingle helpless on the dusty plain. He only can obtain the victor's meed Whose courage presses to th' arena's prize. 225 Q THE IDEAL AND LIFE. Only the strong* to conquer fate succeed, The weakling in disparaged odour lies. While rugged rocks the stream of life enclose, In boiling leaps tumultuous it flows ; Yet how pacific wells that very stream Through Beauty's shadowy pastures as it purls, And on its silvered mirror-face unfurls Now Hesperus, and now Aurora's beam. Here mutual love a tender balm inspires. And weaves a bond of sympathetic grace ; In peace repose inimical desires, And the arch-foe no longer finds a place. (\;When Genius burns impatient, by his skill ATh' inanimate with being to instil — His very self with matter to unite — Then is the moment every nerve to strain, That noble Thought victorious may reign Over mere Element's obstructive might. /To him alone who never seeks repose [The rippling' fount of Truth can be revealed, TVnd to th' artistic chisel's mastering blows Alone will adamantine marble yield. But penetrating even Beauty's sphere Toil must attend, and 'mid the dust adhere To matter which with glory it invests. Not from the mass laboriously wrung", But light, as though from merest essence sprung, Th' enchanting image every eye arrests. All doubts and difficulties pass away As victory unfolds its certain plan. And there remains no symptom to betray Th' inherent indigence of mortal man. 226 THE IDEAL AND LIFE. When in mankind's ignoble trappings dressed Before the bar divine ye stand impressed, And guilt approaches the immortal throne, No wonder that thy vaunted merits pale In face of Truth ; that dubious actions quail When the Ideal makes its power known : — Perfection is for no created thing. And over this impenetrable deep No vessel plies, no kindly bridge may spring, In it no_ari£hfli^-^a»4ts iioldhi^ keep. " Be not alone by narrow Reason taught. But freely rise to the domain of Thought, So dark illusions soon will be outgrown, Abysses will no obstacle present. Thy spirit and the Deity's cement, And God half way will meet thee from His throne. The rigid law's unyielding fetters bind Only the slave who treats them with disdain ; Against the dull resistance of mankind The very majesty of God is vain ! » Torn by the pangs to which mankind is heir, Like some Laocöon, who in despair Struggles against the horrid serpent brood. No wonder man revolts, and that his cries Ascend to the reverberating skies, ,. And-bend the hearer to a melting mo od ! Victorious echo Nature's awful voice ! Let pallor blanch the too-exalted brow. And your immortal element rejoice Before a sacred sympathy to bow ! 227 Q 2 THE IDEAL AND LIFE. -But in that light exhilarating sphere Where Beauty's form is focussed sharp and clear, The storm no longer howls amid the boles ; Th' emancipated spirit knows no pain, Tears flow no longer, and uncurbed remain The natural yearnings of impulsive souls. Fair, as when Iris' many tinted bow Transforms the weeping cloud to sparkling dew,. So on the murky veil of sorrow glow Consoling flashes of celestial blue. Alcides once, obeying the behest Of an unworthy master, went in quest Of all the perils which on life attend ; Strangled the lion, laid the hydra stark. Nor feared to enter Charon's dreadful bark. While yet in life, to liberate his friend. And all the miseries mankind which rack The unforgiving Goddess loved to place Upon her enemy's long-suff"ering back Until completed was his earthly race. Until the God, shedding his worldly gui.se. Renounces man, and seeks the flaming skies,, Quafiing th' entrancing ether at its birth. Rejoicing in his new-born power of flight Upward he mounts, and up, till lost to sight Is every vision which recalls the earth. His ears transfigured, revel in the strains Which from the portals of Olympus roll, And with a just relief once more he drains The heavenly nectar from a heavenly bowL 228 PARABLES AND RIDDLES. A bridge there is of pearls, that marches Over a grey and darksome mere : One instant served to build its arches And raise them to the giddiest sphere. Behold the tallest pennons steering Untrammelled 'neath its springing height ; No fardel may it bear, appearing, As you approach, to fade from sight. 'Twas born 'mid flood and demolition, Then dwindled as the streams were checked- That bridge, say, where is its position ? Who was its skilful architect ? ^ II. It bears thee miles and miles away. And yet it never leaves its place ; No pinions has it to display. Yet wafts thee through the realms of space. Its speed no vessel can excel Which ever wandering sailor bore, And o'er the ocean's angry swell Like thought it leaps from shore to shore ; Demands one moment, and no more.^ ^ The Rainbow. '^ The Telescope, or Imagination. 229 PARABLES AND RIDDLES. III. On an illimitable mead Sheep silver white in thousands graze ; And where to-day we see them feed, There have they been since ancient days. They never age, and mildly quaff Life from a ne'er-exhausted burn ; A shepherd tends them, and his staff Presents a crescent silver horn. As through the golden gates they press His precious flock he nightly counts, And never has a lamb the less Although the steep so oft he mounts. A dog controls the wandering train, A lusty ram points out the way : What is that flock ? Canst thou explain ? And who the careful shepherd ? — Say ! ^ IV. A house there is of lordly mien, Ethereal walls its roof sustain, No passer by is ever seen. And in its precincts none remain. Constructed on heroic lines, 'Tis finished by an artist hand. And for the lamp which through it shines Itself provides the glowing brand. Its ceiling is like crystal clear, Composed of one translucent stone ; Yet did its builder ne'er appear : — Say, is that wondrous builder known ? ^ The Moon and Stars. - Earth and Heaven. 230 PARABLES AND RIDDLES. Two buckets, hanging- side by side, Over a well depend : If to the surface one you guide, The other will descend. Alternate on the rope they pull, Now one and then the other full, And while you take a sip from this, That is immersed in the abyss. The cooling draught for which you sigh Together they can ne'er supply.^ VI This picture dost thou recognise Which its own lustrous light provides, Assumes an ever changing guise, Yet constant and undimmed abides ? 'Tis compassed in the smallest space, Its framework is the narrowest bound. Yet all dimensions leave their trace. And through it everything is found. Then give this crystal gem a name. Its worth all precious stones transcends ; It blazes, yet without a flame. And all the world it comprehends. The very heaven is portrayed Within that little magic ring, And visions which its zone invade Still fairer from the circle spring.^ Day and Night. 2 xhe Eye. 231 PARABLES AND RIDDLES. VII. A structure built in days of yore ! No house it is, nor yet a fane. Ride for a hundred days or more To girdle it — the task is vain ! While generations passed away It braved the stress of storm and time ; It courts the sky-roofed ocean spray, And cloudward its free turrets climb. In no vainglory was it reared, It serves to cherish and protect. Its like on earth has ne'er appeared, Yet human was its architect.^ VIII. Of all the cruel serpent race One, of no earthly breed, Is noted for the foremost place In fury and in speed. Its voice in awful accents swells When threatening to strike, And with one crashing blow it fells Rider and horse alike. The highest summits it affects ; Bars are of no avail, No castle 'gainst its wrath protects, It loves a. coat of mail. 1 The Great Wall of China. 232 PARABLES AND RIDDLES. It splits in twain like brittle reeds The tallest, stoutest tree ; And triple brass it lightly kneads, However hard it be. This monster, which such dread inspires, But once its threat fulfils : In its own generated fires Dissolving, as it kills. ^ IX. We number six, and owe our birth And training to no common pair : Our sire was ever full of mirth, Our mother was a slave to care. Some of our worth to each we owe — Softness to her, lustre to him — Round you in circling dance we go, And, ever young, we lightly skim. All dark secluded nooks we hate, And revel in the light of day ; The world itself we animate And charm with our mysterious sway. We come with Springtime's earliest breath, And its inspiring numbers tell ; We shrink from the domain of death. For all around us life must well. None with our succour can dispense, When men are happy, we are by. Talk of a king's magnificence — 'Tis we the dignity supply ! ^ ^ Lightning. 2 The Six Primary Colours. PARABLES AND RIDDLES. X. Although inadequately prized, Yet suited to the greatest king, Like a keen sword, it is devised To violate. — What is that thing ? Though wounding oft, no blood it sheds. Makes many rich, takes nought by stealth ; Earth's surface it has overspread, And brought it happiness and health. Kingdoms have risen through its might, The oldest cities it could rear ; The torch of war it ne'er did light. And happy they who hold it dear ! ^ XI. I dwell in a rigorous mansion of flint, And quietly sleeping I lie Till the impact of iron impresses a dint. When forth in a moment I hie. Invisible first, I was little and weak. With a puff you might blow me away ; One dew-drop could smother me just in a freak ; But my pinions soon obtain play. If my powerful sister but come to mine aid, I will spread in my wrath till the world is afraid.^ XII. A dial is my coursing ground ; I rever take a moment's rest ; Small is my orbit, and its bound Were by a pair of hands compressed. ^ The Ploughshare. ^ ^ Spark from Flint and Steel 234 PARABLES AND RIDDLES. Yet swift as arrow from a bow, Swift as the tempest roars through space, Full many a thousand miles I go Ere I complete my little race.^ XIII. A bird it is, which cleaves the air Easily as the eagles soar ; It is a fish, which can compare With no sea-monster known before ; It is an elephant, which holds Whole battlements upon its back, And it recalls the sinuous folds Which circle round the spider's track. And when its pointed iron fangs Have found a holding deep and fast, Upright and balanced well, it hangs, Braving th' infuriated blast. ^ 1 The Shadow on the Sun-Diah 2 The Ship. 235 THE WALK. Hail to thee ! roseate hill, thou luminous peak of the mountain, Welcome to thee, good Sun, spreading thy bountiful rays. Hail to the bustling plain, and to you, ye murmuring lindens, Hail the melodious air sighing the branches among. Hail to thee, azure serene, whose limitless canopy shimmers Over the brown hill side, over the newly green wood — Over me too, who at length escaping my 'prisoning chamber And everlasting talk, joyfully summon thine aid. Softly thine odorous breath pervades and quickens my forces, And a clear flood of light strengthens my famishing eye. Many and strongly defined are the various hues on the meadows. But the delightful array yields an harmonious blend. Freely I enter the fields with their rolling carpet of verdure ; Through the enchanting green winds a scarce visible path. 236 THE WALK. Round me the bee is busily humming, and skirting the clover Slowly the butterfly floats, poised on ambiguous wing. Glowing strike the rays of the sun, the Zephyrs are idle, Only the song of the lark sounds in the uppermost air. Ah ! but anon in the copse a rustle is heard, and the alders Bow their heads, and the wind swells through the silvery reeds. Lo ! I plunge into night ; and rich in ambrosial odours, Beeches over my head tent me in glorious shade. "Here in the depths of the wood the landscape has sud- denly vanished, And I steadily mount, led by a sinuous path. Here and there by stealth through the leafy trellis of branches Pierces a wandering ray, showing the heavens above. Suddenly rises the veil, and the opening glades of the forest Bring my startled eyes back to the glory of day. Far as the eye can reach the scene lies open before me. And yon hazy-blue chain governs the limits of earth. Down at the foot of the hill which opens steeply below me _»„ Bubbles a mirror-like stream eddying merrily by. Both at my feet and above I gaze on the limitless ether, Dizzily look up above, glance with a shudder below. But from the heights above to the everlasting abysses Reaches a guarded stair guiding the wanderer down. Smiling before my eyes are the banks in their wealthy abundance. And the whole blooming vale tells of industrious toil. 237 THE WALK. Look at the rows which mark th' extent of the country- man's holding, Woven by Ceres' self into the tapestried field, jindly decree of the law, of the Deity watching above us, Since from the brazen world charity faded away. But with a bolder sweep, dividing the orderly pastures. Sometimes lost in the wood, now on the slope of the hill. Glitters a silvery streak, the broad highway of the country, And the rafts glide by down the immaculate stream. Multiplied over the plain the bells of the cattle are tinkling, And the herdsman's song echoes the only reply. Villages brighten the stream, and hamlets peep through the thickets. Others behind the hill right on the precipice hang. Loving feelings exist 'twixt man and his neighbourly acres When his own peaceful fields compass his humble abode. Like a familiar friend the vine climbs in at the window, . ^ An d an aff'ectionate bough circles the house in its arm. Fortunate race of the fields, still all unawakened to freedom. Sharing alike with thy plains all that the law can bestow. Bound are thy limited hopes by the peaceable cycles of harvest. And thy life rolls on e'en as the task of a day ! — —But what steals away this charming prospect? A spirit All unknown to me spreads o'er the alien plain. 238 THE WALK. Lightly it sets apart what erst was happily blended, Like consorts with like ; kin is attracted to kin. Rank I see maintained : the proud generation of poplars, """" Ranged in orderly pomp, marches with dignified air ; A^All is ordained by rule, all proves considered intention, And this disciplined train points to the master of all. Gaudily blaze from afar the glittering domes in his honour, Out of the rocky gorge rises the pinnacled town. Into the desert without the fauns of the forest are driven, But devotion lends loftier life to the stone. Closer the bonds are drawn uniting man to his fellows. And a more active world rolls through his orbit of .^^^ n.^e. See ! how tEe~envious forces inflame in the fiery con- test : Much their strife achieves : ah ! but their unity more. Thousands of eager hands by a single spirit are quickened, Deep in a thousand breasts glows an unanimous heart ; Glows for native land and the honoured laws ^f their fathers ; Here in the sacred soil rest their illustrious bones. Down from heaven to earth descend the blessed Im- mortals, And in the favoured site plant their decorous abode. Gracious on earth they appear, distributing heavenly bounties ; Ceres gives the plough, Hermes an anchor bestows. Bacchus presents the grape, Minerva the flourishing olive ; And with the warlike steed mighty Poseidon appears. 239 THE WALK. Cybele's lions are yoked to the pole of the peaceable wagon, In through the gate, as a friend, passes the Mother of all. Sacred stones ! From you have the roots of humanity issued. Carrying morals and art down to the isles of the sea. Here at these friendly gates their judgment sages have uttered ; Heroes, rushing to arms, fought for the Gods of their home. High on the battlements stood the mothers nursing their infants. And, till lost to the view, gazed on the warrior train. Then they knelt in prayer, and prostrate in front of the altars. Victory asked and fame, begged for your happy return. Victory, honour, were yours ; but there came back only the glory. And the pathetic stone renders account of your deeds. *' An if thou comest to Sparta, proclaim, good traveller, yonder How thou hast seen us lie here where our duty ordained." Rest, ye beloved in peace ! by the blood ye so cheer- fully sprinkled, Th' olive thrives, and the seed thanks to your agony / swells. Proud of its own free rights, untrammelled industry prospers. Out of the reeds in the brook signs the coerulean God. 240 THE WALK. Crashes the axe on the tree, you may hear the lament of the Dryad, High from the mountain crest masses are thundering down. Out of its setting of rock the stone by the lever is shifted. And the miner descends into the bowels of earth. Ring the ponderous tones of the hammer on Mulciber's anvil, Splutter the sparks of steel under the sinewy hand. Gaily the golden flax winds round the rollicking distaff, 'Twixt the threads of warp whizzes the shuttle along. Out in the roadstead cries the pilot, and resting at anchor, Ships lie .ready to bear fruits of our lah(iur_abroad ; Others arrive meanwhile, the gifts of the foreigner yielding. Bearing on each high mast fluttering emblems of joy. See how the markets swarm, the centre of active exist- ence. Where such a medley of tongues puzzles the wonder- ing ear. On to the neighbouring quays the merchant discharges the harvest ^_ Born of a glowing soil, nurtured in Africa's sun. — — All that Arabia sends, the products of Ultima Thule, All Amalthea receives into her bountiful horn. Godlike children are born to fortune with talent united, We aned upon freedom's breast flourishes every art. With realistic life the painter gladdens the eyesight. And by the chisel inspired, murmurs the animate stone. Counterfeit heavens repose on slender Ionian pillars, And a Pantheon includes all the Olympian host. 241 R THE WALK. Light as the rainbow's leap into space, or the feathering arrow, Springs the arch of the bridge over the blustering stream. -/-But in his silent cell, designing significant emblems, { Muses the sage, and gropes after the secret of life ; Tests the power of matter, the loves and hates of the loadstone. Follows the wavelets of sound, chases in ether the ray, leeks a familiar law in the terrible marvels of hazard, Seeks th' eternal Pole, all apparitions defied. Letters lend a form and voice to unuttered reflections Down through the centuries' course, borne on the eloquent page. So from the wondering eye rolls back the mist of illusion, And the creations of night yield to the graces of day. Man is bursting his bonds. — The happier ! So that he break not With the shackles of fear, also the bridle of shame. Reason freedom claims, demands with inordinate ardour, Shakes off Nature's yoke, eager to wander alone, how, caught in the storm, the vessels are dragging their anchors Far from the sheltering land : off they are borne by the tide. Into eternity swept, the coast-line vanished behind her, Mastless rolls the bark high on the mountainous wave. I Lost in the clouds, the Wain's immutable stars are r- extinguished. Nothing abides, and doubt lurks in the bosom of God. Banished is truth from speech, from life all faith and religion. And, as it fouls the lips, even the oath is a lie. 242 THE WALK. Into the innermost realms of the heart, of private affec- tion, Severing friend from friend, forces the toady his way. Innocence shrinks from the eye of treachery leering upon her. And with a poisoned shaft slays the calumnious tongue. In the dishonoured breast coarse, venal opinion hovers, Love casts rudely aside sensitive feeling and grace. Thy fair badges, O Truth, are assumed by fraud and deception, And they dare to pollute Nature's adorable tones — Tones which the suffering heart in its instants of plea- sure devises ; cuck'-untimely dumb, sentiment hardly exists. Justice vaunts on the Bench, unanimity brags in the cottage. Only the ghost of the law sits on the throne of the King. Long may the mummy endure ; for years to come, and for ages May its deceitful form pass for the fulness of life. Until Nature awakes ; and, with hand of heavy correc- tion, 'Gainst this structure of straw time and necessity rise. Like a tigress who, burst through the iron bars of her prison. Suddenly, terribly, dreams of the Numidian groves, So in the madness of crime and want humanity rises^ And in the burnt-out town seeks for the Nature of yore. Oh ! then open, ye walls, restore to the prisoner free- dom ! Let him turn with relief back to his pastures again ! 243 R 2 THE WALK. — But, where am I ? — The path is lost, and dreadful abysses, Yawning before and behind, hinder my faltering steps. Left behind is the garden's and hedges, familiar escort, And there fades from sight every vestige of man. Matter alone remains from which life's germs are de- veloped. And th' unwrought basalt waits for a fashioning hand. Down through the channels of rock the torrent, noisily plunging. Under the roots of the trees angrily forces a way Dreary is all around ; in the desolate ocean above me Only the eagle soars, heaven uniting with earth. Never a quivering air buoys up to my lonely position The old sounds which announce human affliction and joy. Am I really alone? — In thine arms, on thy glorious bosom. Nature, again I repose : and — it was only a dream, Which so filled me with awe : with life thus terribly pictured, And with the wreck of the vale happier visions return. Purer my life I receive from thine immaculate altars. And am cheered once more by the bright promise of youth. Will is for ever changing its laws and purpose ; and ever. Clad in a manifold garb, deeds in a circle revolve. But in perennial youth and eternally varying beauty. Nature, thou honourest still all the good precepts of old; Ever preservest intact in thy loyal keeping, for man- hood, That which childhood or youth to thy fidelity trusts ; 244 THE WALK. Nurturest at one breast the changing cycles of ages. Under the same blue vault, on an identical sward Keighbourly, hand in hand, are the differing races united, And old Homer's sun blinks upon us with a smile. «/!j-5^' T'' „u 245 THE SONG OF THE BELL. Vivos voco : Mortuos plaugo : Fulgura frango. Firmly bedded in the soil Stands the mould of hardened clay. Come, my lads, nor spare your toil This must be a bell to-day ! From the burning brow Honest sweat must flow. Work, ere it successful prove, Needs a blessing from above. Anent the task which we intend, An earnest word may be in place ; When good advice and labour blend le working hours slip by apace. So let us now the evils scan Which from half-heartedness arise : We must perforce condemn that man Whose work is thoughtless exercise. For what does intellect appeal. The fairest gift that man commands, But that his inmost heart should feel For the creation of his hands ? Bring the logs of pine, Crisp and free from damp : The fiery tongues confine. Their spreading forces cramp. 246 THE SONG OF THE BELL. Brew the copper strong ! Pass the tin along ! Let the tough bell-metal flow Down with justly-tempered glow ! This form in earth's deep moulding traced. And mastered by th' obedient flame, High in the belfry tower placed, Anon shall testify our fame. There shall it hang till far-off" years. Soothing the ear with notes sublime, Ready to wail with those in tears. Or with the sacred choir to chime. The fate which changing fortunes brings To earth's poor children here below Shall strike its metal crest, and ring Abroad its news of weal or woe. Blisters white the surface wrinkle : Good ! the fusion is complete ! On the metal soda sprinkle ; That will expedite the *' heat." From all bubbles clear Must the blend appear, That with pure metallic sound Clear its voice may echo round. With joyful clash and measure gay It peals to hail the darling child, Already launched on life's rough way While still in slumber's arms beguiled. In time's dark bosom still concealed. His lot reposes unrevealed : The golden dawn of youth so fair Is guarded by a mother's care. — 247 THE SONG OF THE BELL. With lightning- speed the years roll by, Th' ambitious youth the maiden leaves, The stormy world without to roam ; And having gained what travel gives, Returns, a stranger, to his home ; F>^ glorious in her pride of youth, picture from some heavenly land. Warm with the tell-tale blush of truth, .JHe sees the maid before him stand. A nameless yearning binds his heart. He wanders to and fro alone, Tears to his eyes unbidden start. He hastes his comrades' haunts to shun. Bashful he marks her every trace, Rejoices in her lightest word, And culls, his dear one's brow to grace, The fairest blooms the fields afford. Oh ! sweet desire, oh ! hopes of bliss, Those golden days of early love ! When heart is bathed in happiness. And eyes see straight to heaven above. Ah ! could they last for ever green. Those days of early love serene. Ha ! the tubes are browning now ! I must plunge this rod to try. When we see a vitrous glow. Then the moment's drawing nigh. Now, my lads, your best ! Quick ! the mixture test : 'Tis a favourable sign If the hard and soft combine. For when the stern and tender meet, And jointly one another greet, 248 THE SONG OF THE BELL. The tone is good and clear and strong*. Let him who heart to heart would bind Assure a bond of such a kind. Illusion's brief, repentance long ! Brightly gleam the bridal tresses And the garland in her hair, As the merry church bell presses All around the joy to share. But, alas ! life's month of May Ends with this life's dearest prize : Veil and girdle mark to-day : Then the fair illusion flies. When passion is past. Love still must abide ; Though the flower be downcast, The fruit swells in its pride. The man must arise ^ And go forth into life. To labour and strife. To plant and to toil. To trick and despoil ; He must risk and be bold, Good fortune to hold. So gifts will be showered in infinite measure. And his store-chambers swell with the costliest treasure. The rooms become larger, the house grows in size. And within holds her sway The modest young wife. The mother of children. She is wisely severe In the family sphere, 249 THE SONG OF THE BELL. And teaches the maidens, And governs the boys, And plies without end Her diligent hand, Increasing the gains By her well-ordered pains ; She charges with treasures her sweet-scented store And delights in the spindle's industrious roar : The clean, polished cupboards she carefully packs Full of glistening wool and of snowy-white flax : All the polish and gloss she maintains at their best, And never takes rest. And the father with cheerful glance Looks from his lofty gable, Reckoning up his happy chance. As the well-piled garner floors he sees. And the posts supporting the laden trees, The barn and granary bursting with grain. And the rolling billows of corn on the plain ; And he boasts as he looks around : '* Firm as the solid ground. Against misfortune's hand The pride of my house shall stand ! '* But the fickle powers of Fate No eternal bond create, And misfortune strides apace. Now the cast may be begun : Nicely hollowed is the breach : But before we let it run. Let us pious thoughts beseech. 250 THE SONG OF THE BELL. Knock the plug" away ! Bless us, God, we pray ! Into the curling ears the stream Spouts hissing with its fiery gleam. Valued is the mighty flame, Watched by man, confined, and tame ; Little progress man had made _B.ut for its all-mastering aid. ^ But fearful lengths its power attains When, having shaken loose its chains. It takes its own direction wild, Nature's free, ungoverned child. Its course none can arrest, Its fury none withstand : Down the crowded street its crest Whirls like a flaming brand. For the elements detest The work of mortal hand. From the cloud Blessings proceed, The rain we need ; From the clouds, as they clash, The lightnings flash. - — ^' From the tower I hear it sigh ! The storm is nigh ! The heavens are red, Red as gore. The daylight has fled. " Hear the uproar ! Up the street ! Quick ! Steam rises thick ! The flaming pillar flickers higher. 251 I HE SONG OF THE BELL. Up the streets and down the lanes Whirlwind speed the fire-tongue gains. Parched as from an oven's back Glows the air ; the rafters crack ; Door-posts start and windows shake. Children scream, their mothers quake. Cattle groan, Their sheds o'erthrown. Men now help, now take to flight, Clear as noonday is the night. From hand to hand, an endless chain, With might and main The buckets pass ; in arches high The ready streams of water fly. With growing force the storm roars by, JFans the flame's increasing power, Drives the crackling tongues to scour Trees, and fruit, and all the store Gathered on the barn's dry floor. And as if its desperate throes Would the solid earth excite To partake its maddened flight, Up to very heaven it grows With giant bound. Hopeless and stunned, The man must bow to heaven's decree, The ruin of his labour see. And idly mark the blows. Clean burnt out Is the place. Everywhere the tempest's trace ! In the ruined window-frames 252 THE SONG OF THE BELL. Dwells despair, And the clouds of heaven stare Straight in. One g-lance He cannot check At the wreck Of his romance ; Then the brave man his staff resumes. No matter what the fire has cost, One blessing can for all atone ; He counts his darlings one by one, And finds that no dear face is lost. Now the mould is charged : — for, see ! All has vanished in the soil. Will the end propitious be. To reward our skill and toil ? Anticipate the worst ! Suppose the mould should burst ! While we hope our triumph won, Possibly the harm is done. To the dark breast of sacred Earth Our handiwork we here confide. In it the farmer dares to hide -His seed, and hopes to watch its birth And heaven-blest growth with eager pride. But costlier seed than this we place With tears in Earth's maternal womb And ask for it redoubled grace When It arises from its tomb. From the Minster Tolls the bell. Slow and sad, A solemn knell. 253 THE SONG OF THE BELL. Gently guide the muffled blows A wanderer to her last reposev Ah ! 'tis the beloved wife. Alas ! It is the faithful mother, Whom the Prince of Darkness charms From her husband's loving arms, From the throng of children dear Which she bore him year by year, Whicü with tender love she pressed To her faithful, anxious breast, l^las ! The gentle ties of home Are undone for evermore, For she dwells where shadows roam Who the sweet name. Mother^ bore. Now her faithful rule is wanting, Missing is her watchful care ; Th' orphaned home, her place supplanting,. Strange, unloving hearts will share. While the casting cooler grows. From your rigid labour cease ;, As the happy birds repose, So may you enjoy your ease. The stars peep one by one ; — His spell of duty done. The workman hails the vesper chime r The master knows no bounds of time. The wanderer, with joyful stride. Presses through the forest glades To the poor cottage of his pride. Homeward wind the bleating flocks,. And the herds Of glossy, deep-browed kine, 254 THE SONG OF THE BELL. To their proper stalls going-, Anxiously lowing. With creaks and groans The wagon reels, Laden with corn. On the sheaves Of coloured leaves The garland lies ; And to the dance Each youthful reaper flies. ~"Street and market-place g r ow silentn Round the bright, convivial lamp ^AUj the household is assembled, And with a jar the town-gate slams. Darkness appears On the face of the earth, But the confident citizen fears Not the night. Which to the villain dread appears ; Tor the eye of the law is bright. Blessed ordinance of heaven. Which to equals here has given Will to render mutual aid. Which our town's foundation laid. Which has summoned nature's child From his field and forests wild ; And, invading man's abode. Trained him to a gentler code. And — a triumph yet more grand — Taught the love of Fatherland ! Hands are raised in emulation One another's toil to share, 255 THE SONG OF THE BELL. And with eager exultation Every talent is laid bare. Prompted by the same ambition, Man with master freely vies. Each respects his own position, And the scoffing" tongue defies. No right man from trouble winces,. Blessings round true labour lurk ; Dignity suffices princes. We must boast our handiwork. Holy Peace, Divine Accord, Never wander From this happy town of ours ! Never may that morning break When the horrid tongues of war This calm valley's echoes wake : When the sky. Which now the evening rays adorn With rosy beams. For hamlet and for town shall mourn,, And blaze with lurid, cruel gleams ! Come, now ! smash the outer shell, (For its purpose is achieved) That our hearts and eyes may dwell On the form therein conceived. Swing the hammer round ! Off the fragments bound ! Ere our bell we can unfold. We must sacrifice the mould. The master's hand the mould may break With wise discretion, if he please ; 256 THE SONG OF THE BELL. But woe ! if with a fiery wake The glowing bronze its freedom seize ! Raging along with thund'rous sound, It bursts the poor confining shell, Belching red-hot destruction round, As though it rose direct from hell. Where rude, unthinking forces reign, /-. — Earewell to gentle comeliness ; Peoples who their own freedom gain May never hope for happiness. 'Tis fatal when within a town ^._The treacherous tinder piles too high ; The people hurl their fetters down, And struggle for supremacy ! Rebellion to the bell-ropes clings, Clashing the tongues in wild caprice, To arms the angry tocsin rings Where used to float the chimes of peace. *The streets and halls return the cry : — '' Equality and Liberty ! " The peaceful burgher flies to arms, And cut-throat bands patrol in swarms. ""With beasts the womankind compare, ^nd revel in each hideous jest ; With tigrish teeth the heart they tear From their opponent's quivering breast Reserve and modesty are gone, Nothing is sacred or sublime, Evil holds sway on virtue's throne, And nothing bars the march of crime. * An allusion to the French Revolution. 257 s THE SONG OF THE BELL. Tis perilous the lion to teaze, Vindictive is the tiger's tongue, But e'en more terrible than these Is man with soul possessed of wrong". Woe be to him who lends the boon Of heaven's fair torch-light to the blind ! It cheers him not, but smoulders on. Leaving an ashy waste behind. — God has brushed away my fears ! See ! how like a star of gold, Bright and smooth the core appears As we strip away the mould. The sun pours down On rim and crown, And the Arms and blazoned shield Credit to the artist yield. Approach ! and see ! Close around, each worthy mate, While our bell we consecrate ; *' Concordia " its name shall be. Our kindred spirits let it move To unity and perfect love. Let this henceforward be its task — No more the master-hand would ask ! Above the earth's tumultuous roar The vault of heaven shall hear its strain, Amid the thunders it shall soar. And border on the starry main ; Shall peal like the celestial voice Of constellations mild and clear. Which in their Maker's name rejoice, And welcome each revolving year. 258 THE SONG OF THE BELL. ■Only of lasting themes and deep Its consecrated tongue may chime : Its strokes the hourly watches keep, And^mark the fleeting steps of Time. ^To destiny its brazen throat, Though not with sympathy endued. Shall echo, and its tone denote The course of life's vicissitude. And as the clamour dies away Which filled our startled ears but now. It tells us of the world's decay, -How earthly things to Fate must bow. Now the ropes and tackles strain ! Sway the bell from where it lies ; Hoist it to its true domain. Where the heaven-born ether sighs ! Haul ! Hoist ! Sway ! It moves ! 'Tis giving way ! May it bode our city's fame, Peace its earliest chime proclaim ! 259 S2 THE POWER OF SONG. A torrent from the fissured rocks With all the din of thunder rolls, The solid earth its impact shocks, Before it bow the oaken boles ; Transfixed with a voluptuous fear, The wanderer listens in dismay ; The rock-bound stream bursts on his ear — Yet whence it flows he cannot say. So roll impetuously along The unsuspected floods of song. The minstrel shares the awful might Of those who forge life's tangled chain. Who can his magic members slight, And who ignore his wild refrain ? His cry, by godlike powers sped, Appeals to each impassioned soul ; He seeks the regions of the dead, And soars to where the heavens roll. 'Twixt jest and earnest he can sway Men's minds, and all the gamut play. As when into a scene of mirth Some giant apparition strides — Some phantom of mysterious birth — And, charged with dreadful portents, glides,, 260 THE POWER OF SONG. The earth's exalted recognise The stranger from the other world, No longer senseless revels rise, And every mask aside is hurled ; For falsehood seeks to thrive in vain In mighty Truth's triumphant reign. And so man's grievances abate When noble song enchants his ear ; He rises to a God's estate And steps into the heavenly sphere. No greater are the Gods than he. No earthly thoughts his soul molest ; From all distractions he is free, No fateful vision mars his rest. Smoothed are the wrinkled lines of care While music's charms the soul ensnare. And as, after heartbreaking pain And separation's bitter grief, The child repentant seeks again Upon his mother's breast relief. So to the thoughts of early days. When innocence was yet unstained. From foreign lands and foreign ways Song brings the wanderer home, regained, To learn in Nature's loving school What ne'er was taught by formal rule. 261 WOMAN'S WORTH. All honour to women ! They kindly adorn With roses from heaven poor mortals forlorn ; The chaplets of love they deliciously twine, Their charm is enhanced by a modest attire As they piously cherish the sensitive fire Of sentiment on its immaculate shrine. Man strives ever to outsoar Sober fact's material chains, And his mind with restless power O'er the sea of passion strains ; Never is his soul at rest. In futurity he gropes, To the stars pursues the quest Of his visionary hopes. But woman, with looks that will not be denied, Soon summons the fugitive back to her side, And bids him from projects of wandering cease. True daughters of Nature ne'er flutter to roam Afield from their mother's exiguous home, But rest with a sober demeanour in peace. Man is ever prone to strife : Undiscerning, straight he goes, Rushing forcibly through life. Never halting for repose ; 262 \ WOMAN'S WORTH. Hurls his own creations down, Knows no term to his desires ; Like the Hydra of renown, From a fall new strength acquires. But woman, content with a narrower power, Plucks singly each dainty developing flower. And lovingly cherishes it in her breast ; Less trammelled than man in her limited sphere, And richer than he in her smaller career, More deeply by poetry's whispers impressed. Hard and proud and self-contained, Never has man's forward heart To that perfect bliss attained Which affection can impart. For a kindred soul to feel Is not his, he can not weep. And life's battle does but steel Harder yet his purpose deep. As the murmuring touch of the Zephyr inspires With life the soft-breathing ^olian wires, So woman's vibrating and sensitive soul. In sympathy with the presentment of grief, Heaves deep in her bosom, and conjures relief From the heavenly pearls down her lashes which roll. Man in his imperious mood Subjects rectitude to might, Scythian proves his case in blood, Persian worsted is in fight. Passions uncontrolled and rude In the din of battle gloat ; Eris's raucous screams obtrude Where the Graces used to float. 263 WOMAN'S WORTH. But anon with a gentle and eloquent mien Sweet woman appears like a law-giving* queen, And quenches the strife that still sulkily glows ; Arch enemies, thanks to her delicate grace, Their anger forget in a loving embrace, And ever united are obstinate foes. 264 HOPE. Men often speak and dream in hope Of happier days in store ; And toward th' ideal goal they grope, And dream and hope the more. The world grows old and young again, And man goes hoping on in vain. Hope is a witness at his birth, It flutters round his early bloom. Its magic clothes his youth with mirth, Nor quits the greybeard in his tomb. Life's troubles o'er, we still enthrone Hope over his memorial stone. It is no vain deludmg thought Which from disordered fancy springs. By hope our hearts are plainly taught That we are born for better things. That inward voice if we believe. The hoping soul will not deceive. 265 THE GERMAN MUSE. 'Twas in no Augfustan age, 'Neath no royal patronage, That the German art was born» Not on glory was it fed, Nor its flower raised its head Princely triumphs to adorn. Frederick on his mighty throne, Germany's most noble son. Left it lone and unrevered. Germans justly may proclaim Theirs the credit, theirs the fame, German glory to have reared. Thus it is that German song Rolls in boiling waves along, Bursting from the inmost heart ; Surges to triumphant heights, And in native grandeur slights The despotic rules of art. 266 THE SOWER. Full of hope, to the earth the golden seed is entrusted, And thou lookest in Spring for an unmeasured return. But in the furrows of time such deeds art careful to scatter As, in wisdom sown, may to eternity rise ? THE MERCHANT. Whither is bound yon ship ? A Sidonian company mans her, And she hails from the North, loaded with amber and tin. Dandle her softly, winds ; and be thou merciful, Nep- tune, In some sheltering cove find her a potable rill. Dedicated to you, ye Gods, is surely the merchant. Wealth he seeks ; but shares with the good vessel his gain. ULYSSES. Traversing every sea on his homeward journey, Ulysses Past Charybdis steered only on Scylla to fall. Subject to perils of earth and the horrible tumults of ocean. Lay his wandering course, guided him even to hell, Till in the end he was borne asleep to his Ithacan island ; Yet his awakening eyes failed to acknowledge his home ! 267 ^ CARTHAGE. Oh, degenerate child of a noble and glorious mother, Who to the vigour of Rome added the Tyrian's craft ! Romans sternly ruled the worlds they had taken in action, While the Tyrian taught worlds he had cunningly won. "What thine historical fame ? Thou conquerest, true, like a Roman, Sword in hand ; but thy rule savours of Tyrian gold. THE KNIGHTS OF ST. JOHN. Nobly invested are ye, the cross on your panoply wear- ing, Lionlike as ye stand, fighting for Acre and Rhodes, As the trembling palmer ye guide in the Syrian desert. And with a cherubim's sword on to the Sepulchre press. Yet still fairer thy garb when clad in the merciful apron Which (ye lions of fight, sons of a conquering race) Ye endue at the bed of the sick and suffering needy. And with a menial hand render him Christian aid. Faith of the holy Cross, in a merciful chaplet united Round thee, like twin palms, might and humility blend. 268 GERMAN HONOUR. Germany's sceptre to wield claimed both Bavarian Louis And the Hapsburg Fritz, equally summoned to reign. But the fortune of war delivered the Austrian over, Still in the ardour of youth, into the hand of the foe. Ransom ? — the throne he renounced, and swore to aban- don his party, And to wield his sword on the victorious side. Under coercion he swore : but free, he repented his error, And of his own free will back to his prison he came. Full of emotion, the foe embraced him, and ever there- after As two friends they shared beaker and trencher alike. Sharing a common couch the princes in harmony slum- bered, While an inveterate hate sundered their peoples apart. Now 'gainst Frederick's host must Louis amain ; and a warder Over Bavaria leaves whom — but his actual foe ? *' Ay, and the story is true ! It is true, for I have it in writing " : — When he was told the tale, so did the Pontifex cry. 269 COLUMBUS. On, thou mariner bold ! though wags look on in derision, Though the sailor o'ercome drop from the tiller his hand, On, ever on to the West ! for the land is undoubtedly westward, As thy reason avers and a presentiment tells. Trust in the guiding of God and the murmuring paths of the ocean. Were it till now unborn, ocean would come to thine aid. Genius hand in hand with Nature is ever united, Genius animates hope, Nature the promise performs. 270 POMPEII AND HERCULANEUM. \ What new marvel is this ? We prayed for drinkable waters, ^ What strange fruit is this, dear Mother Earth, of ^ thy womb ? Is there life in the pit? Is there dwelling under the lava Some generation unknown ? does the departed return ? K Come, ye Romans and Greeks ! Behold your ancient Pompeii Rises, and here stands Hercules' city anew. ?^ Gable on gable ascends, the generous portal is open. Hither approach with speed, hasten to people its halls ! Lo ! the theatre invites ; let the populace, earnestly pressing Through its seven-fold doors, jostle their emulous way. And do ye. Mimes, come forth ; complete thine oblation, Atrides, While to Orestes' ear sadly the chorus appeals. Whither conducts yon arch ? Dost thou distinguish the Forum ? Look at the curule chair : whose are the figures I see ? ^ Lictors, bear your fasces on high ! In front of the Praetor At the judgment seat witness and plaintiff appear. 271 POMPEII AND HERCULANEUM. Orderly streets their breadth display ; with loftier pavement Branch the narrow lanes winding the houses among. Far the sheltering eaves project, the dainty apartments Round the sequestered court nestle in cosy array, pen the shutters wide and the doors with long- stiffened hinges ! ere black night has prevailed enter the glamour of day ! See, how round by the wall the rows of benches are ordered. And as with precious stones sparkles the floor in relief. Merrily glow the walls with fresh and brilliant colours ; Where is the artist, whose brush toiled but a moment ago ? with swelling fruit and chosen blossoms, the garlands Compass a charming view set in a flowery frame, ere with his baskets filled a Cupid is gliding, and yonder Red-stained toilers stand busily treading the wine. High the Bacchante leaps in her dance, or in slumber reposes. While the lurking faun peeps with insatiate eye. Hither in whimsical course the galloping Centaur she urges ; Hovering on one knee, gaily the thyrsus applies. Lads, why tarry ye ? Here ! the well-fashioned vessels await you ; Hither, ye maidens, and draw from the Etrurian jar ! Is not the tripod at hand upborne by the wings of the sphinxes ? Stir the fire ! and haste, minister, slaves, to the hearth ! 272 POMPEII AND HERCULANEUM. Purchase ! and here are coins by the powerful Titus imprinted : Even the scale lies here, never a weight is astray. Place the burning lights in the dainty and elegant sockets, Let the lamp be charged full of diaphanous oil ! What does this box contain ? Ah ! see what the bride- groom has ordered. Maiden, circlets of gold ; jewels thy dress to adorn ! Lead the bride to the odorous bath, the ointments are handy, In this crystal vase traces of rouge I espy. — But, say, where are the men ? In the sterner domain of the study Xie in a priceless heap numbers of curious scrolls. Here are tablets of wax and styles — all writing utensils : — Never a thing is lost, faithfully guarded in earth. All the Penates are here, each God puts in an appear- ance ; How is it all are found saving the Priesthood alone ? Merrily waving his wand, behold the light-footed Hermes, And from his steady hand victory surely proceeds. Ready and waiting stand the altars : oh ! come and ignite them ; Long has waited the God : offer th' oblation at last. 273 THE ILIAD. Pluck from the garland of Homer, and number the tale of the Fathers, Who have contributed all, parts of the epic sublime ! But one mother above it acknowledges, and her appearance Her personality tells — Nature, her features are thine ! ZEUS TO HERACLES. Not my nectar it was to thee which Godhead accorded ; Thy God-granted might pounced on the nectar amain. THE ANTIQUE TO THE NORTHERN WANDERER. Rivers have been no bar, thou hast faced the terrors of ocean, And in the loftiest alps dizzying arches hast dared Me in my home to see, and yield me intimate honour, Such as the voice of the world yields in inspired acclaim. Now in my presence thou art, my sanctified essence is o'er thee. Yet are we nearer akin ? Which can appreciate which ? 274 THE MINSTRELS OF OLD TIME. Where is that glorious host, of strong and melodious minstrels Whose inspiring strains ravished the senses of men — Who could conjure the Gods to earth, waft mortals to heaven, And exalted the soul to a poetical flight ? Singers indeed there are ; 'tis heroic achievements are wanting, And a receptive ear, lyrical passion to rouse. Happy ye minstrels of old, when the voices of each generation Passed your stories down to generations unknown. Welcoming him as a God, the world devoutly accepted What his genius bore, what he created and taught. By the romance of his song was kindled the listener's ardour, And the emotion aroused fed the poetical fire — Fed it, and also purged ! Ah, fortunate he, that a people With universal acclaim joyfully echoed his lay. And that here in the world existed a spirit to aid him, Such as a bard of to-day scarce can awake in his heart. 275 T2 THE ANTIQUE AT PARIS. The Frank indeed by force of arms Can hale the Grecian artist's charms To ornament the banks of Seine ; In a museum's ordered row Can his victorious trophies show His countrymen to entertain ! Statues so placed will never bend, Nor from their pedestals descend To brighten life's unlovely tone. He only comprehends the muse Whose native feeling she imbues — To vandals she remains but stone. 276 THEKLA. A SPIRIT VOICE. Where am I now, and whither am I bound ? Dost thou not mark my spirit float above ? Concluded, surely, is my earthly round. Have I not lived, have I not tasted love ? Dost thou anent the nightingale inquire. Who in the raptured evenings of Spring Did with his melody thy soul inspire ? — Only while amorous he chose to sing. And have I, then, the lost one found again ? Believe me, I am bound to him for aye. Where none can rend the self-appointed chain, Where the salt fount of tears is ever dry. There mayst thou find us, if thy love, indeed, With love like ours can anywise compare ; There is my father from transgression freed, And the red hand of murder must forbear. He feels that no misleading vision cheats, As his glance ranges upward to the sky ; To each is measured even as he metes, And who has faith approaches the most High. There plighted word is held in high esteem And sentiment with confidence is fraught ; Fear not to wander, be content to dream, For childlike play may hide a lofty thought. 277 THE MAID OF ORLEANS. To mock thy fair presentment of mankind, Contemptuous scoffers laid thee in the dust ; To beauty wit is ever ill inclined, And in no God nor angel puts its trust ; The dearest treasures of the heart it steals, Makes war on fancy, and belief congeals. But, like thyself of humble parentage, Like thee, a pious shepherdess — no more — Poetry can thy grievances assuage. And bid thee to celestial regions soar. Her halo doth thy temples glorify. Born of the heart itself, thou canst not die. The world is prone to blacken what is bright And all ideal virtue to demean ; Yet tremble not, for lofty hearts delight Still in the warmth of the celestial sheen. Let Momus entertain the common throng, To nobler minds more noble themes belong. 278 NENIA. Beauty itself must die ! Though it subjugate men and immortals, Yet it can never appeal unto the Stygian God. Love but once in his life could move the ruler of Hades, Who on the threshold then sternly regretted his vow. Not Aphrodite herself could heal the wounds of Adonis, Torn in his delicate skin by the redoubtable boar. Nor was the hero saved at Troy by his mother im- mortal When at the gate he died, falling as destiny bade. But from the deep she rose with all the daughters of Nereus, Wailing long and loud for her illustrious son. Gods and Goddesses all lament in unanimous anguish That the beautiful dies, fades the ideal away. Even a dirge of lament we prize from the lips of our dear ones, For the dishonoured and mean creep into Orcus unsung. 279 THE CHILD AT PLAY. Play in thy mother's lap ! In that holy inviolate island, Child, no cares exist, nor does anxiety frown. Dandled above the abyss in the loving embrace of a mother. Smiling thou mayst glance down on the tumult of earth. Play, thenj innocent child ! Arcadia still is around thee, Nature uncontrolled loves an hilarious mood. For the voluptuous art fictitious borders arranges, Willing as is thy soul, lacking are duty and aim. Play ! For anon will come the days of compulsory labour, And from a task imposed pleasure and humour recoil. 280 THE SEXES. Lo ! in the tender child twt, charming flowers united ! In one common bud maiden and youth are concealed. Gently the bond is relaxed, diverge the different instincts, And from the blushes of grace passionate energy parts. Grudge not the boy his sport, let him revel in boisterous ardour ; Natural vigour appeased, grace and refinement appear. Bursting its swollen bud, the twofold flower emerges. But the blooms demand more than thy passionate heart. t Swells the maidenly form in soft exuberant outline. And her pride safeguards, stern as the girdle, her charms. Shy as the tremulous roe that the horn alarms in the forest, Man she hates and shuns, all unacquainted with love. Stubbornly glares the youth from under his lowering eyebrows, And for the fray prepared, stretches his every nerve. Into the thick of the fight and into the dusty arena Blithely he pushes his way honour and glory to win. Nature, defend thy work ! what should be for ever united Surely will break apart but for thy fostering hand. Mighty one, thou art there already ; from angry con- fusion Thou hast been able to call forth an harmonious peace. 281 THE SEXES. Hushed is the sound of the chase, the day's perpetual murmurs Die away, and the stars gently drop into the sphere. Whispering sigh the reeds, the brooks flow murmuring onward, And Philomela's song fills the harmonious grove. What provokes this sigh from the heaving breast of the maiden ? Stripling, whence are the tears silently dimming thine eye ? Vainly an object she seeks for her soft confiding em- braces. And the rich ripe fruit bows to the earth with its weight. Striving ever, the youth is consumed in the flame he has kindled. Nor is the wasting glow cooled by a tempering air. Lo ! in the end they meet : 'tis love that has brought them together. And to the wings of the God pinioned victory cleaves. Love divine, it is thou who joinest humanity's blossoms. Parted though they be, and dost unite them for aye ! 282 THE INFLUENCE OF WOMAN Mighty thou art in the strength of thy calm unruffled enchantments ; For tranquillity's spell bustle can never achieve. Force I expect in man, defending the canons of order ; But let woman alone through her amenity rule. Many indeed have ruled by dint of ideas and action, But they had not thee, noblest adornment of all. No true queen there is but woman's womanly beauty, By mere presence it rules, dominant where it appears. 283 THE DANCE. See, how the couple revolve in undulatory motion Gliding, the winged foot scarcely oppresses the earth. Are these phantoms of air that I see, released from the body ? Or are they moonlight elves winding in merry array? Light as the smoke which wreathes through space at the touch of the Zephyr, Light as the dancing skiff borne on the silvery tide. Capers the disciplined foot to the tune's melodious measure ; And the murmuring strings buoy up the body in air. Now, as though they would burst by force through the ranks of the dancers, Right in the thick of the crowd whirls an hilarious pair. Rapidly opens a path in front, and closes behind them ; Opened and shut is the way as by a magical hand. Lo ! they have vanished from sight : involved in utter confusion Crumbles the edifice fair built of this versatile world. Stay, it rises again, its intricate fetters escaping ; 'Tis the established rule, only with varying charm. Oft destroyed, so oft new life creation engenders, And to a silent law each metamorphosis owns. 284 THE DANCE. Say, how is It that, ever replaced, the figures are reeling", Yet there exists repose in the light flexible form ? How that each one is free, his own heart's counsel obeying, The true path to find, spite of his hurrying course ? Wouldst thou know the reason ? 'Tis euphony's might that imposes Form on the sociable dance, curbs the too-boisterous bound ; Which, like Nemesis, calms with the golden bridle of measure Over-exuberant mirth, and the intractable tames. Do they appeal in vain, the sphere's harmonious numbers ? Art thou not carried away, rapt, in the rhythmical stream ? Rapt, in the cadence sublime which all creation is beating ? Rapt, in the eddying dance, which through the ocean of space Launches glittering suns in bold meandering courses ? Measure, all honoured in sport, thou dost in action abjure. 285 FORTUNE. Happy the man whom the Gods have graciously held in affection Yet unborn, whose youth Venus has nursed in her arms. Phoebus has shaped his eyes, his lips are chiselled by Hermes, And the signet of might Zeus has impressed on his brow ! What an illustrious fate, what a godlike future awaits him. Ere the strife has begun gaily his temples are crowned. Ere he has lived, to him the measure of life is awarded, Ere he has met with pain Charis has flown to his aid. Surely the man is great who, by his original instinct And by Virtue's aid, singly encounters the Fates. Fortune alone he fails to compel ; what Charis denies him. Jealously holding her hand, valour can never attain. From whatever is base an earnest will can preserve thee, ^^_A11 that is worthy the Gods freely and amply bestow. As thou art loved by thy love, so shower the bounties of Heaven ; Equally Cupid and Jove give partiality rein. 286 FORTUNE. Favourites have the Gods : they love the natural ringlets Crowning- youth, for the gay happiness bring in their wake. Not unto those who can see do the Gods vouchsafe their appearance ; Their magnificent pomp realize only the blind. Gladly they light for choice on the mind of innocent childhood, And to the modest void heavenly notions impart. Unexpected they" come and cheat proud anticipations, heir spontaneous course no jurisdiction compels, traight to the man of his choice the Father of men and Immortals Sends his eagle down, summoning him to the skiesi— ~ Guided alone by his will, from amidst the many he chooses. And on the brow he prefers twines with affectionate hand Now the laurel wreath, and anon the fillet of power, But the Deity ci'onms only established success. On the fortunate waits Phoebus, the Pythian hero, And the compeller of hearts, jovial smiling Amor. Even the sea for him Poseidon levels, and easy Glides the keel which bears Caesar and all his success. Low at his feet the lion lies down, and the arroganF dolphin Rising out of the sea, piously offers his back. Blame not the fortunate man that the Gods have aided his triumph, And that her pet from the fight Venus has hurried away. Him, whom the Goddess preserves, the favoured of Heaven, I envy. Not the man she ignores, wrapt in the blindness of night. 287 FORTUNE. Was the renown of Achilles a whit less great that Hephaestus Forged his ponderous shield, ternpered his terrible blade — That the concerns of man should occupy mighty Olympus ? Rather his fame is enhanced that he was worthy such love, That it respected his wrath and, willing to add to his glory, Plunged in the fathomless pit all the selected of "^' Greece. Blame not beauty because she is beautiful, and with- out effort, Thanks to Venus' gifts, fair as the lily-cup shines! GränT'fhat Fortune is hers, still fortunate thou in beholding ! Is she so easily fair? still thou enjoyest her charms. Happy thou that the gift of song has descended from Heaven, And for thee the Bard sings what he learns from the muse ! Quickened himself by the God, a God he becomes to his hearers. Thanks to his Fortune it is thou canst felicity share. Guarding the busy exchange, let Themis attend with her balance. And mete out the reward strictly according to toil ; None but a God can summon delight to the face of a mortal, . Where no miracle works Fortune to none can accrue. All that is human must first be born, grow fuller, and ripen, And the improver. Time, cherishes every stage ; 288 FORTUNE. But nor Fortune nor Grace canst thou mark as they come into being ; All complete they are, born of Eternity's womb. Every Venus of earth, like the Venus of heaven, arises, A mysterious birth, out of the depths of the sea. Just as Minerva of old came forth equipped in her aegis, Springs from the Thunderer's head every luminous thought. 289 u GENIUS. **Do I," thou askest, ** believe what the masters of learning have taught me ? What their disciples' band boldly and promptly affirm ? Can erudition alone to true satisfaction upraise me, And does System alone justice and fortune uphold ? Shall I the impulse distrust, or neglect the whispering precepts Which thy very self, Nature, has stamped in my heart. Till on the wearisome theme the schools their seal have imprinted, And the volatile mind Formula's fetters have bound ? Tell me — for thou didst once in these profundities flounder, And from the mouldering grave compassed a happy return — Knowest thou what is stored in the vaults of ambigfuous language, Whether the hopes of the world hold where the mummies abide ? Must I travel this dismal path ? — I shudder — and own it! — Travel I will if it lead really to justice and truth." — Friend, hast heard of the Golden Age? The poets have left us Many a tale thereanent, simply and touchingly told. 290 GENIUS. Happy days ! ere yet from life the holy had vanished ; When was held in esteem maidenly gentle reserve ; When the omnipotent law, which rules the celestial courses, Lying concealed in the germ, quickened the atom to life ; When necessity's law, in calm unvarying silence. E'en in the hearts of men roused a more liberal wave ; When the unerring mind, exact as the hand on the dial, Pointed above to truth, only to what could endure. Then no scoffer arose, no special priesthood existed, What was brimming with life nobody sought in the tomb. Patent to every heart stood forth the unchangeable precept, But the source was concealed whence it so happily flowed. Ah ! those joyous days are gone ! And an obstinate blindness, Founded on absolute will, Nature's repose has destroyed. In the polluted sense no longer the voice of the Godhead Sounds ; in the blunted heart silent the oracle grows. Only in innermost self the straining spirit may hear it, Where the sense is preserved safe by the mystical word. Here with purest heart the inquirer gravely adjures it, And the instinct of old gives him his wisdom again. If it was never thy fate to lose thy guardian angel, Nor with indifferent ear warnings of conscience to heed, If in thine unblanched gaze immaculate truth is depicted, And her voice still rings clear in thine innocent breast, 291 u 2 GENIUS. If thy placid mind to mutinous doubt is a strang'er, If thou canst now predict doubt will be silent for aye, If thy tumultuous thoughts ne'er stand in need of an umpire, Nor sound sense be dulled by an insidious heart — Fortunate man, then go thy way in thine innocent virtue ! Science has nothing for thee : rather her teacher be thou ! Yonder brazen law, which rigidly governs the masses. Is not thine. — Thy law is what thou likest and dost. And as a word of command goes forth to all generations, What from thy hand proceeds, falls from thy sanctified lips. Will with amazing force affect the excited emotions : Only thou failst to perceive, throned in thy bosom, the God, And the powerful seal which humbles all spirits before thee, But through the vanquished world calmly pursuest thy way. 292 THE PHILOSOPHICAL EGOTIST. Hast thou observed the babe who, ignorant of the affection Which his cradle surrounds, sleeps through each changing embrace, Till in a natural burst the passions of youth are awakened. And the first conscious flash suddenly shows him the world ? Hast thou the mother observed, who purchases sleep for her darling At the cost of her own, tenderly guarding his dreams, With her own very life supporting his feeble existence, And in her deep concern finds a sufficient reward ? And dost thou speak ill of Nature which, Mother and infant. Gives, receives, and exists, but as necessity bids ? Wouldst thou, self-contained, withdraw from the heavenly circle. Which in affectionate bonds creature with creature connects ? Willst thou pose alone, and alone of deliberate purpose. When by exchange of force even Eternity stands ? 293 THE WORDS OF FAITH. Three words of significant import I name, And lips to each other impart ; From no indiscriminate sources they came, But their origin have in the heart. And unless these words form part of his creed, Man is a pitiful creature indeed. Man was created, and man \s,freei No matter if born in chains : Let the cry of the rabble pass over thee. And the howl of extravagant swains ! Of no free man stand thou in fear, Nor of slave who has conquered a free career. And Virtue is more than an echoing call, For it serves man day by day, And though he may blunder and stumble and fall. He can aim at the virtuous way, And what from the wiseacre oft is concealed Is as oft to the soul of the simple revealed. And a God there is, whose w^ill compels The wavering mind of men, And thought of the loftiest order swells Beyond time's wildest ken. Though the world in eternal vicissitude roll, There is ever repose for the peaceable soul. 294 THE WORDS OF FAITH. Preserve these three great words that I name^ One lip to another impart, Though not from extraneous sources they came. But their origin have in the heart. So long as these words form part of his creed,, Man is a creature of worth indeed. 295 THE WORDS OF ERROR. Three words of significant meaning there are In the mouths of the wisest and best, Yet vainly they echo, like tones from afar, And yield no assistance or rest. Man forfeits the fruits he could lightly attain If after impalpable shadows he strain. So long as he pictures a glorious age, Rejoicing in honour and right — Those gifts will assuredly combat engage With a foe who for ever will fight. Thou must at him in air, for a contact with earth Supplies to his force a regenerate birth. So long as he thmks that success will attend On nobility's conduct and aims — He will find that she looks upon wrong as a friend, That the world what is worthy disclaims. A wanderer he, and his duty to roam To discover elsewhere an immutable home. So long as he dreams that the reason of man Can with absolute verities close — He will find an abyss which no mortal can span ; We can but assume and suppose. In a word, it is true, thou canst prison the mind. But it surges away on the wings of the wind. 296 THE WORDS OF ERROR. Then hasten thy soul from illusions to wean, And a higher religion endue ! What the ear never heard, and the eye has not seen Remains what is lovely and true ! It is not abroad, as the foolish contends, 'Tis within, and upon thine own ardour depends. 297 PROVERBS OF CONFUCIUS. TIME. Time in threefold measure strides : Mark the Future's halting- guise, Arrow-like the Present flies, Still for aye the Past abides. No impatience pricks his speed Would he tarry on his way. No alarms his march impede, Nor do doubts his footsteps stay. When he pauses, no remorse Moves him to resume his course. Wouldst thou lead a happy life ? Wisely end thy term of strife, Call the " laggard " to thy side — Not as tool, but as thy guide. *' Arrow-swift " avoid as friend, 'Ware th' "Abiding" to offend. II. SPACE. Threefold is the grip of space : Down the long unchequered face Stretches Length ; from side to side Two extremes do Breadth divide ; Depth can dark abysses trace. 298 PROVERBS OF CONFUCIUS. Th' allegory thou canst guess : — Ever onward must thou press, Wearied thou must never be Wouldst thou consummation see ; Wouldst thou know the world we tread Wide abroad thy thoughts must spread ; He who to the deep descends Knows alone what life portends. Perseverance in the fight, Joined with knowledge, brings to light Truth obscured and out of sight. 299 LIGHT AND WARMTH. The worthy man with trust receives What in the world he finds ; And, self ignoring, he believes In hope for noble minds ; And dedicates, with ardour warm, In Truth's defence, his trusty arm. But all too soon, alas, he learns How puny life has grown ; And in the struggle only yearns To guard and keep his own. His heart, with cold indifferent pride Even from love now turns aside. Ah ! Even Truth's celestial rays Can lose their wonted fire. Woe be to them whose conscience pays For knowledge they acquire. 'Tis well th' enthusiast's warmth to snare With worldly-wise yet prudent care ! 300 BREADTH AND DEPTH. Many there are in the world who know, And a little on everything" say : — Is this attractive ? should that be so ? — They answer you, yea or nay. On hearing- them talk, you might think aside That theirs, for sure, was the coveted bride. But anon from the world they disappear ; Their life was an empty shell. He who strives after a great career, Burns to do something well, The best of his powers with all their weight On the smallest details must concentrate. The tree may grow till it weathers the gale, The branches may shelter the field. The leaves may voluptuous odours exhale, But the fruit they can none of them yield : The seed alone in its tiny space Contains the trees which the forest grace. 301 THE GUIDES OF LIFE : OR, THE BEAUTIFUL AND THE SUBLIME. Two mysterious powers in life's excursion attend thee. Happy it is for thee if they unite in thine aid. One with enlivening art beguiles the wearisome journey : — Light, as thou hängst on his arm, duty and destiny seem. Merrily he conducts till, high on the pinnacle standing, Down he bids thee peer over Eternity's sea. Here with a resolute mien and grim the other awaits thee, Bears thee over the deep with an imperious arm. Never alone in one confide ! To the former thine honour Thou must never entrust, nor to the latter thine aims. 302 ARCHIMEDES AND THE SCHOLAR. Once on a time an inquisitive youth approached Archimedes : — ''Teach me, I pray," he cried, ''teach me the heavenly art, Which in thy competent hand to the State such profit has yielded, And has guarded our walls 'gainst the beleaguering host." " 'Heavenly' namest thou Art? 'Divine' she is, of a surety," Quoth the sage, " and was, ere she protected our arms. Just her fruit to attain the merest mortal is able ; But, an a Goddess ye woo, seek not a woman alone ! " HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. Just because thou readest in Nature what thou hast written. Just because thine eye all her phenomena marks, Reckoning on the bonds which man upon Nature imposes, Does thy mind presume infinite Nature to know ? So the Astronomer's art lays out the chart of the heavens Better his way to steer through inaccessible space ; Suns in a focus he brings though by infinity parted, Mates the distant swan with the redoubtable bull. But can he comprehend the spheres' mysterious orbit Merely because on a globe planets in order appear ? 303 THE TWO PATHS OF VIRTUE. Twofold is the road by which a man is exalted ; If in the one he fail, open the other appears. This to patience appeals, and that to vigorous action, Happy the man whose fate grants him a portion of each. HONOURS. How do the flashes of light on the mirrorlike rivulet sparkle ! Seems the golden marge with its own ardour aglow. But the ripples are carried adown the glittering highway Forcing each other along, feather, and hasten away : — Such is the fugitive spark which man denominates honour ; Not he shines, but the scene, where he may happeri to be. ZENITH AND NADIR. Roam as thou willst through space, thy zenith and nadir unite thee Both to the heaven above, and to the axis of earth. Whatsoever thou dost, let heaven be fraught of thy purpose, And let Earth itself witness afford to thy d^^^d. ! 304 IDEAL FREEDOM. When life comes to an end, two roads before thee are open ; To th' ideal this, that to eternity leads. While time still permits, be sure thou choose the ideal, Lest to death thou drift under the finger of fate. THE CHILD IN THE CRADLE. Fortunate babe, for thee there is infinite space in a cradle. But to accommodate man even the universe fails. THE UNCHANGEABLE. Time irrevocably flies, towards changeless eternity wending. Thou canst fetter time if thou art honest and true. 305 THEOPHANIA. In prosperity's days the Gods are lightly accounted, But they stand hard by when on affliction I gaze. THE HIGHEST. What is the highest of all ? — The plant can give thee a lesson. What it unwittingly is, that of volition be thou. IMMORTALITY. And thou fearest to die ! Wouldst live for ever and ever ? Live in the Whole ! It abides when thou art hurried away. 306 VOTIVE TABLETS, What the Deity taught, which all my life has assisted, Here I gratefully hang in his immaculate fane. SUNDRY VOCATIONS. Many there are who toil, each one to prosper his species ; But it is given to few only to multiply man. Many a seed is sown, but few bear fruit at the harvest. For the majority still close in their elements hide. But let one expand — 'twill nurture a bountiful outcome, Filling a living world with the creations of aye. INSPIRATION. In the organic, sensitive world no novelty rises, Save where flowers bloom — highest achievement of earth. TWO METHODS. Do what is good, and man thou teachest all that is holy ; Picture the fair, and so sprinkle the heavenly seed. 307 X 2 VOTIVE TABLETS. DIFFERENT STANDPOINTS. Fashion has degrees in the world : contemptible natures Reckon on what they do ; noble assert what they are. WORTH AND WORTHINESS, If thou anything- hast, why, let me purchase an item ; If thou anything art, let us effect an exchange. MORAL FORCE. Lacking a sense of the fine, ye can always cultivate reason ; What to the man is a blank, imagination achieves. SHARES. Even an impious hand can Truth's omnipotence order : But the measure to fill Beauty availeth alone. TO X. Give me a share of thy knowledge, and, friend, I will eagerly take it. But an thou offer thyself, pray my excuses accept.. TO X. X. Thou wouldst teach me truth ? — Nay, spare the trouble ! the object Not through thee do I seek ; by it will estimate thee. 308 VOTIVE TABLETS. TO X. X. X Thee would I have for a mentor and friend. Thy livings ideal Teaches me, and thy words sink to the depth of my heart. THE PRESENT GENERATION. Say, was it always thus ? — Generations are hard to dis- tinguish. This generation is young ; that which arises is old. TO THE MUSE. What I had been in thine absence I know not, and earnestly sorrow As the crowds I mark, who never owned thee at all. THE LEARNED WORKMAN. Never a taste has he of the fruit which springs from his labour : Appetite only enjoys what erudition has sown. THE DUTY OE ALL. Strive, an thou mayst, for the whole ; and if thou fail to attain it. To some whole belong as a subservient part. 309 VOTIVE TABLETS. A PROBLEM. None to another be like, yet each resemble the Highest ! How can that be achieved ? Each be consummate himself. THE PROPER IDEAL, All may share thy thoughts : thine own is only thy feel- ing. Wouldest thou own him, feel, do not imagine^ thy God. TO THE MYSTICS. Mystery ever is that which lies broad open to all men ; Circles you round and round, yet not a body observes. THE KEY. Wouldst thou know thyself then mark the methods of others. Others to understand, search thine own innermost heart. THE CRITIC. Strict as my conscience itself, thou notlcest all mine offences : Therefore I love thee as well as — mine own conscience, at least. 310 VOTIVE TABLETS. WISDOM AND PRUDENCE. Wouldst thou attain, my friend, to the highest circles of wisdom ? Venture on every risk ; prudence can whisper aside : The short-sighted observe the receding river bank only, Never the one that will lie presently under thy feet. AGREEMENT. Truth we both of us seek ; thou in life's strenuous action, I in the heart, and so each his desire attains. From without the eye, if healthy, regards the Creator, And beholds within, as in a mirror, the heart. POLITICAL DOCTRINE. Aim at achieving the good, my friend, but, having achieved it. Be content ; and abstain, prithee, from doing it all. True zeal only requires that what there is is ideal. Spurious zeal demands that an ideal be there. MAJESTAS POPULI Majesty ot mankind ! In the haunts of man shall I seek thee? Thou hast been hitherto with a minority found. Only a few there are who count, the others are ciphers ; And what prizes exist in the commotion are lost. VOTIVE TABLETS. TO A REFORMER. '' I have given my all," thou sayst, ''for human advanr tage ; But in vain, for I earned enmity only and hate." — Shall I explain, my friend, what my relation to man is ? Trust the proverb, which yet never has led me astray. As for Humanity's self, who can too highly esteem it? Be it impressed in deeds as .to thy soul it appears. If in the struggle of life some mortal jostle against thee. Help him, if thou mayst, with a benevolent hand. But — for the rain and dew and the general good of the people — Leave it to heaven, my friend : heaven exists, as of yore. MY ANTIPATHY. Crime sincerely I hate, and hate with a special aversion Since it brings in its train wearisome prattle of good. *' Good thou mockest ? " — Nay, let all continue its prac- tice. But, for heaven's sake, prate of it never again. TO THE ASTRONOMERS. Tell me no more, I pray, of your suns and nebulous hazes ; Think you Nature is vast only to set you a sum ? Nothing in infinite space is so august as your object. But there is nought august, friend, in indefinite space. 312 VOTIVE TABLETS. ASTRONOMICAL LORE. Measureless an it extend — the noble arena of heaven, Heaven is dragged by fools down to the level of earth. THE BEST STATE. ** How shall I know which State is best ? " — Why, just as thou knowest Which of women is best. Neither an utterance needs. ^^ MY FAITH. What religion I own ? thou askest : — None of thy naming. Why ? thou askest again ; — Why, for religion itself. WITHIN AND WITHOUT. *' God alone sees into the heart." 'Tis an adequate reason Why we too should see something of wholesome repute. FRIEND AND FOE. Dearly I honour a friend, but an enemy too has his uses ; Friends point out what I can, enemies show what I ought. Z^Z VOTIVE TABLETS. LIGHT AND COLOUR. Make thy lasting abode where fixed Eternity dwelleth J Come, ye varying hues, come and illuminate man ! TRUE INDIVIDUALITY. Single it is thy lot to be — not part of a total — Reason plants thee alone, and acquiesces the heart. Thou and thy heart are one, thy reason is only a fragment. Fortunate thou if for aye reason abide in thine heart. VARIETY. Plenty are good and wise, but they only count as a sample, For o'er them not heart, but an idea has sway. And the idea is sad, from a thousand varying emblems Nothing bringing to light but a necessitous one. But life rollicks along content in the presence of beauty, Knows in a thousand forms to metamorphose that ONE. THE THREE AGES OF NATURE. Fable endowed her life, by later learning arrested ; But to an active life reason attracts her anew. 314 VOTIVE TABLETS. GENIUS. Sense can adapt indeed what has already existence ; That which Nature has built can in a copy create. But to reason in space is Nature amenable only. Genius only can Nature in Nature abet. THE IMITATOR. Good from good to extract — that lies in the power of all men ; Good to derive from ill Genius only achieves. Only on what is achieved 'tis worth to found imitations ; What is original pleads only to natures inspired. GENIALITY. How does Genius stamp its presence? Why, as the Creator With His presence adorns Nature and infinite space. Clear is the ether above, and yet 'tis a measureless ocean. Eye may see it indeed, but the intelligence fails. THE INQUIRERS. All without and within mankind would eagerly fathom ; Truth, canst thou escape from this insatiable lust ? Nets they spread and snares in hopes thy feet to entangle ; But thy spectral tread every effort eludes. 315 VOTIVE TABLETS. AN AWKWARD COUPLE. Why are taste and genius only so rarely united ? Taste is afraid of strength, genius hates to be held. CORRECTNESS. Free from blame to appear is at once the meanest and highest ; It is achieved by the great and by the feeble alone. THE LA W OF NATURE. So it has always been, my friend, and will be for ever : Feebleness works by rule ; vigour achieves a result. CHOICE. If thy work and deeds are not attractive to all men, Try to attract the few : — folly to humour a crowd. THE SCIENCE OF MUSIC. Art may imitate life, and a bard may quicken our instincts ; But the appeal of a soul only Polymnia knows. SPEECH. Why is a spirit alive to kindred spirits a stranger ? Only arouse the soul, and it is silent for aye. 316 VOTIVE TABLETS. TO THE POET Language serves for thee as body does to adorers. Snatches asunder at will, or in one being unites. THE MASTER. Mostly a master's fame depends on that which he utters ; But the judiciously dumb — he is the master of Art. THE GIRDLE. Under a girdle her grace Aphrodite in mystery harbours ; Modesty veiled it is which her attraction adorns. THE DILETTANTE. Just on the strength of a verse achieved, with an adequate accent, Which thy judgment approves — art thou a poet indeed ? THE TATTLER OF ART All that in Art is best, thou askest ? But were it fitting ? Art thou worthy the good, antagonistic in aim ? 317 VOTIVE TABLETS. THE PHILOSOPHIES. Which will abide amid all the philosophies ? Marry, I know not ; But Philosophy's self — may it eternally live. THE FAVOUR OF THE MUSES. With the ignoble expires his fleeting glory — thy chosen, Heavenly Muse, thou bearst safe to Mnemosyne's arms. HOMERS HEAD AS A SEAL. Good old Homer, to thee I entrust my delicate secret ; For the romance of Love touches a poet alone. 318 THE BEST FORM OF GOVERNMENT. That I reckon as best which renders it easy to all men Good to think, and yet forces a moral on none. TO LEGISLATORS. Ye may ever assume that man, as a corporate body. Means well, but take heed never to reckon on one. THE WORTHY. Pay respect to the whole : individuals only I honour : But each one I regard only as part of a whole. A FALSE IMPULSE TO STUDY. Ah ! How many a foe has Truth ! My soul is in an- guish As the owls I observe forcing a way to the light. REJUVENESCENCE. Nay, 'tis not a romance — in streams adolescence aboundeth. Where ? thou askest : — Apply to the poetical art. THE CIRCLE OF NATURE. In thy happy domain is all comprised, and a greybeard Harks in childlike age back to the days of his youth. 319 THE GENIUS WITH THE INVERTED TORCH. Fair he is to behold with torch no longer illumined ; But, my good friends, Death is no apostle of art. THE VIRTUE OF WOMAN. Virtues a man must have through life's wild medley to bear him ; So with a fortune assured into the battle he goes. But for a woman enough is a single virtue, appealing Lovingly to the heart, and, let us hope, to the eye ! BEAUTY AT ITS BEST. Hast thou never beheld the fair in a moment of anguish ? Then never hast thou observed absolute beauty at all. Hast thou marked how pleasure illumines adorable features ? No ? — Then pleasure to thee still is a pleasure un- known. THE FORUM OF WOMAN. Woman, do not judge man's each individual action Harshly ; but, an ye will, criticize man as a whole. FEMININE JUDGMENT. Man relies on facts, but love is the test of a woman ; If she do not love, sentence is entered at once. 520 THE FEMININE IDEAL. TO AMANDA. Woman in all things yields to man, except in the highest ; There the strongest man is of a woman the slave. And what is the highest ? A radiant halo of glory, Such as, Amanda, compels from thine immaculate brow. When the mist floats over the orb, his splendour ob- scuring. Fairer appears the scene drawn in the shimmering air. Is man free? Thou art! Thine indispensable free- dom No hesitation knows, never necessity heeds. What thou givest is ever a whole ; complete thou art always, And thy gentlest chord is thine harmonious whole. Here is eternal youth in never exhausted abundance. And thou pluckest at once flower and harvest alike. HOPE AND FULFILMENT. Confident in his ship, the youth goes down to the ocean : Grey he returns, and wrecked, into the harbour again. THE COMMON LOT. How do we quarrel and hate, divided in hope and inten- tion ; Yet thy locks, like mine, steadily grizzle the while. 321 V HUMAN PERFORMANCE. At the beginning appears the road to eternity open, But the sUghtest bend even the wisest appals. THE FATHER. Strive as best thou may, a lonely position awaits thee. Till perforce thou become part of the natural whole. LOVE AND DESIRE. True ! Man loves what he has, and hopes for all that he has not ; None but rich minds love, only the indigent ask. GOODNESS AND GREATNESS. Two prime virtues exist, and would they were ever united — Worth, where is anything great, greatness a party to worth ! MOTIVES. Fear, 'tis true, may drive the slave with a disciplined iron ; But let me be led under a gentle control ! 122 NATURAL AND TRANSCENDENTAL PHILOSOPHERS. What, already at war ! Too soon ye aimed at alliance ; As your paths divide will ye acknowledge the truth. GERMAN GENIUS. German, copy the heroes of Rome, and Grecian artists Both thou hast achieved, never the verve of the Gaul. 323 Y2 TRIFLES. THE EPIC HEXAMETER. Bounding along in a rush on its undulatory billows, Man it carries away, skimming o'er ocean and air. THE DISTICH. In the Hexameter hark, the mellifluous accents ascending, In Pentameter hush with a melodious air. THE EIGHT-LINED STANZA. Stanza, thou wert by love in its yearning fancy created — Thrice thou fliest away, thrice to be with us again. THE OBELISK. On an exalted base, upheaved by the hand of a master, Here I stand, as he bade, proud in inanimate might. 324 TRIFLES. THE TRIUMPHAL ARCH. *' Fear ye not," the master exclaimed, '* my bow in the heavens ; Like it, so shalt thou into eternity reach.'* THE BEAUTIFUL BRIDGE, Under me are the waves, the wagons thunder above me ; Kindly the master allows me to pass over as well. THE GATE Throw the portals ajar to attract untutored allegiance \ Let the citizen out, free and untrammelled as air ! THE CHURCH OF SAINT PETER. If thou seekest immensity here to find, 'tis an error ; Mine immensity serves but to ennoble thyself. 325 GERMANY AND HER PRINCES. Many a monarch has earned thy faithful worthy allegiance, Only the subject's will strengthens the governor's arm. Germany, if thou canst, for thy rulers render it harder Great as Kings to appear, easy to posture as men. TO PROSELYTIZERS. ^'Give me a scrap of soil outside the bounds of the planet," Said the godlike man, *' so can I lever the earth." But for an instant take mine own identity from me, And in the flash of an eye I will appropriate yours. THE CONNECTING LINK How does Nature proceed the high and lowly to mingle Here upon earth ? She lets vanity balance between. THE MOMENT. With the Century comes a great and critical epoch ; But that epoch finds no generation of worth. 326 GERMAN COMEDY. Fools and caricatures we have indeed by the dozen ; But unluckily these comedy do not abet. A BOOKSELLER'S ADVERTISEMENT. Nothing imports a man so much as to have a vocation ; For twelve groschen in cash, friend, you may purchase one here. DANGEROUS CONSEQUENCES. Friends, take heed before your deeper feehngs avowing ; Once committed, you'll have every one on to your back. THE GREEK SPIRIT. Scarce has the agued chill of Gallomania left us, Than in a feverish heat blind Grecomania comes. What did Greekism mean ? Intelligence, easy Pro- portion ! Then, good sirs, I beg, let Grecomania lie ! Worthy the cause ye espouse ; but pray pursue it in reason, Lest to derision it lead, and to derision alone. CHILDREN OF THE SABBATH. Years the master strives, his object seldom achieving ; To a receptive race all were explained in a dream. What they yesterday learned to-day they would urge upon others ; Ah, these gentlemen have little compassion indeed. 327 THE PHILOSOPHERS. PUPIL. Happy to find you, sirs, in congregation assembled ; For the one needful thing I would inquire of you. ARISTOTLE. Come to the point, my friend ; we take the ** Jena Gazette" here Down in Hell, so we know all that a body may need. PUPIL. That Is well, for I want — and you'll have no peace till I get it- Some respectable saw of universal applause. FIRST PHILOSOPHER. Cogito, ergo sum. — I think, so have an existence ! Is the premiss assured, certainly true is the rest. PUPIL. Then if I think, I am ; but I can't be eternally thinking, And I have lived for long, guiltless of ever a thought. SECOND PHILOSOPHER. Since existence there is, there is also a super-existence. In that state we float, floundering, every one. THIRD PHILOSOPHER. I say just the reverse, /only have an existence ; Everything outside me is but a bubble of air. 328 THE PHILOSOPHERS. FOURTH PHILOSOPHER. I will admit two things exist — a world and a spirit ; Nothing more, and these really synonymous are. FIFTH PHILOSOPHER. Of your existence I know — well, nought — and nought of your spirit ; Both I vaguely discern, but they are phantoms alone. SIXTH PHILOSOPHER. 1 am I, and establish myself, and if I establish That disestablished I am, there is a negative proved. SEVENTH PHILOSOPHER. Imagination exists : there is then something imagined ; Throw the imaginer in, three is your total in all. PUPIL. All that ye say, good sirs, I value not at a bawbee ; Give me a telling phrase — one with a meaning, I pray. EIGHTH PHILOSOPHER. Where mere theory rules no more remains for inven- tion ; But this saw holds good: — "Ever you can, if you ought ! " PUPIL. Oh ! I observe when a man has no more sensible answer. Plump he makes a plunge into the conscience at once. DAVID HUME. Pay no heed to the mob ! That Kant has addled its reason. Rather apply to me, trustworthy even in hell. 329 THE PHILOSOPHERS. A POINT OF LAW. Many a year have I used my nose for the purpose of smelling- ; Now I desire to know, have I, as user, a right? PUFFENDORF. Rather an awkward point ! But you prove early possession, Which is much : so I say, use it again and again ! SCRUPLES OF CONSCIENCE. Ever I seek my friends to oblige, and, unluckily, like it; For then conscience asks : — where does the virtue come in ? CONCLUSION. Only one method I see, do what you can to despise them ; Then you may sulkily yield all that a conscience demands. 330 G. G. Man, considered alone, is a sensible creature accounted ; But regard him in bulk, and what a blockhead is he ! THE HOMERIDES. Which amid you is the singer of Troy ? — His appetite knowing, Heyne kindly sends 'Varsity sausage for him. *' Here ! It was 1 who sang of the warlike fury of princes — Pass the sausages here : — Ida I sang of as well ! " Steady ! I say ! — I have not got sausage enough for you all here. For the donor sent sausages only for one. THE MORAL POET. Man is a pitiful wight. I know, and try to forget it ; And so it was that I came, curse o' my folly, to thee ! A LOFTY SUBJECT. Loves thy Muse to proclaim how God showed pity to mortals. But why blazon abroad that they so pitiful are ? 331 A TRICK. Wouldst thou please at a stroke the pious and also the earthy ? Paint a voluptuous scene, throwing" the Evil One in. JEREMIADS. German verse and prose to the dogs are equally going-, And the golden age is but a relic of yore ! Logic is worse for the bards, philosophers addle the language, And in the walk of life common intelligence fails. Out of her proper aesthetic abode all virtue is banished To a political home, merely a nuisance to all. Whither, then, are we bound ? They call our natural instincts Dull ; yet if we restrain, we are accounted absurd. Oh, for the simple address of the serving wenches of Leipzig, Could we but have those days, simple and harmless again ! Comedy, furnish afresh th' accustomed weekly enjoy- ment, — Sigismund in love, Marcarill as a buffoon ! Tragedy full of flavour and epigrammatic allusion, And the staid minuet buskined as ever of old ! Come, like a marionette, Philosophy, patiently pausing When in self-defence Nature objects to the shears ! Come, thou ancient prose, in honest measures express- ing Thoughts of new and old, which the disciple accepts. German verse and prose to the dogs are equally going, And the golden age is but a relic of yore ! 332 KNOWLEDGE. Knowledge to one appeals as a Goddess indeed ; to another Knowledge is only a cow milkable every day. KANT AND HIS INTERPRETERS. How one wealthy man can make the indigent easy ! When a sovereign builds, carters have plenty to do. 333 SHAKESPEARE'S GHOST. (A PARODY.) In the end I beheld great Hercules' wondrous achieve- ments, And his shade. — Himself was not, alas, to be seen. Like birds screaming aloft, I heard the Tragedians' out- cry. And like yelping dogs, bayed Dramaturgists around. Terrible stood the monster there. His bow was extended. And th' impatient bolt steadily bore on the heart. *'What adventurous act wouldst thou, unfortunate, hazard. That thou seekst the damned here in a bottomless hell " ?— " I am here to ask the seer Tiresias only Where I may hope to find haply the buskin of old." — '* If they Nature despise and the ancient Greeks, 'tis a pity Vainly to drag to the fore thy dramaturgy for them." — Nature postures again in our dramatic arena. Naked as she can be, evident every rib. ** What, can you let me see that old and adorable bus- kin, Which to attain I plunged into the Stygian night ? " — 334 SHAKESPEARE'S GHOST. Such apparitions are past, and tragedy. Scarce in a yard's length Goes thy harnessed soul grudgingly on to the boards. '* Good ! Philosophy has your finer feelings exalted, And a humorous sense drives irritation away." — Give me a downright dry old jest — 'tis agreeable fool- ing ; Though, if humid enough, sorrow is able to please." '* Can I note at a glance Thalia's exquisite motions And the stately step taught by Melpomene's art ? " — " Neither ! We only regard the moral, Christian affec- tions. Simple and homelike truths, which popularity bring." What ! No Caesar upon your boards, no mighty Achilles ? Is Andromache gone ? does not Orestes appear ? " — *' No ! But there are priests and shrewd commercial attaches, Subalterns and scribes, majors enough of hussars. " But, I pray you, my friend, what can such a laughable medley Do that is really great ; greatness how can they achieve ? " — "What? Why, nurture cabals, lend money at usury, pocket Silver spoons, nor hold pillory even in awe." " Whence, then, dost thou procure this Fate of appalling appearance. Which at a single stroke lifts and abases a man ? " — *' Nonsense ! What we seek is self and friends of ac- quaintance. All our griefs and woes — and, by the rood, they are here." 335 SHAKESPEARE'S GHOST. *'But all this ye possess at home with greater advan- tage; Since ye seek yourselves, why do ye try to es- cape ? "— *' Do not take it amiss, but that is a separate problem ; Fate — why, fate is blind ; poets are trusty for aye." ** So on your own poor boards your own poor nature is acting, While the good and great never are witnessed atall?"— *'Well, the poet is host, and a last act brings retribu- tion ; When crime shirks the repast, virtue can elbow a place." 336 THE RIVERS. THE RHINE, True, as a Switzer should, I guard Germania's borders ; But the patient stream leaps the excitable Gaul. THE RHINE AND THE MOSELIE. Long have I clasped Lorraine in my arms, like a favour- ite damsel ; But as yet no son has our alliance adorned. THE DANUBE IN XX. Bright-eyed men I see of Phaeacia dwelling around me ; Merrily whirls the spit, Sunday is ever at hand. THE MAIN True, my battlements age, but I look with pleasure around me O'er generations born of an illustrious house. THE SAALE. Short though is my course, many kings and peoples I welcome, Sovereigns who are good, peoples whose habits are free. 337 z THE RIVERS. THE ILM. Poor are my banks, indeed ; yet, as I gently meander, Many a lasting- lay over my bosom is heard. THE FLEISSE. Flat are my banks, my stream is shoal — too early ex- hausted By a voracious crowd, poets and authors alike. THE ELBE. Gibberish all of you talk — of all Germania's waters I true German speak — truly, in Meissen alone. THE SPREE. Ramler a language supplied, my Caesar furnished a subject ; Choked at first, since then never I utter a word. THE WESER. Never a single word, not an epigrammatic allusion, Now I think it o'er, unto the Muse I supply. THE MINERAL WATERS OF X. X. Country strange, whose streams possess a remarkable flavour ; But whose people present nothing at all to remark. 338 THE RIVERS. THE PEGNITZ. Long" have I suffered, alas, from an hypochondriacal ailment ; And if I flow at all — well, 'tis my habit to flow. THE RIVERS, Only let us abide beneath the — anian aegis ; Master and yoke are mild, burdens are happily light. THE SALZ ACH From the mountains I pour on the archiepiscopate unction ; Then to Bavaria turn, lacking a fillip indeed. THE ANONYMOUS RIVER. Lenten meats to provide for the pious board of a bishop, Placed in an arid land by the Creator, I flow. LES ELEUVES INDISCRETS. Rivers, hold your peace ! Your lack of modesty equals That which exhibited once Diderot's intimate friend. 339 Z2 THE METAPHYSICIAN. " The Universe far, far below me lies ! I scarcely see the mannikins of earth ! How does my art, in its transcendent worth Noblest of all, exalt me to the skies ! " So brags the slater from* his lofty perch, So does that little self-important man, Hans Metaphysicus, learned in research. Tell me, thou little self-important man. Von pile, on which so grandly thou dost glose — Whence came it — on what base does it repose ? How cam'st thou there — and, for its callow height, What serves it, but to bring the plain in sight ? 340 THE WORLDLY WISE. The law by which each mundane thing Its pristine bulk and shape attained, The peg whereon this earthly ring By thoughtful Zeus was made to cling, For fear it should perchance be strained, — A real genius I proclaim The man who can announce its name, Unless I choose to aid his ken — 'Tis : Twelve is different from Ten. Snow makes us cold, a fire is hot. Upon two feet a mortal goes. Across the sky the sun doth trot. And, knowing logic ne'er a jot. All this a man by reason knows. But he who Metaphysics learns Knows that what freezes never burns, That wet is wet, and dry is dry. That bright is bright can testify. His noble epic Homer sings. The hero is by peril cheered. The valiant man to duty springs — And did so long before such things As the Philosophers appeared. The heart and genius have wrought What Locke and Descartes never thought, Such do their instincts only move The possibilities to prove. 341 THE WORLDLY WISE. In life the strong is ever right, The weak must feel the mighty's rage ; Who rules not is a slavish wight ; Else things were in a sorry plight Upon this little earthly stage. Yet what would happen could we scan Now in its birth the cosmic plan, From moral systems may be gained, And everything at once explained. '' Man stands in need of human aid To compass his appointed goal ; On the large scale he loves to trade, Of many drops the sea is made, Whole torrents through the mill-wheel roll. So flies the wolf's ferocious brood And states renounce internal feud." Thus Puffendorf and Feder teach. And " ex cathedra" love to preach. Yet since the professorial saw To some will e'er appeal in vain. Nature takes heed that not a flaw Shall mar the chain, and by her law Bids ripening fruit its hold retain. Till, then, philosophy succeeds The world in ruling with its creeds, Its motive power she supplies By hunger and by lovers' sighs. 342 PEGASUS IN HARNESS. Once to a fair — was Haymarket its name ? — Where many things to purchasers appeal Of many kinds, a hungry poet came Leading the Muses' steed, to have a deal. Loud neighed the winged steed And bucked and pranced quite in the proper style ; Admiring cries from every lip proceed : — **The royal beast ! But pity to defile His slender form vi^ith such a pair of wings ! He were a credit to a tip-top team ; You say that from a noted breed he springs ? But who of driving in the air would dream ? " But not a soul of them would risk his cash, Till spoke a farmer glad to cut a dash : — '' True that with useless wings he is equipped, But then they can be either bound or clipped, And make his hauling not a bit the worse : Come, twenty pounds I'll venture for the horse ! " The dealer, glad enough, responded — '' Done ! " And Hans led off the prize that he had won. The noble beast no sooner felt the rein Than, fretting under the unwonted load, Away he flew with all his might and main. And his fine breed and eager mettle showed By doubling up the cart upon the road 343 PEGASUS IN HARNESS. Close to a ditch. — Thought Hans, with such a beast No carts for me ! I know a better scheme ; To-morrow I will tool the stage at least, And he shall be a leader in the team. The lively crock will save another pair. And his exuberance will yield to wear." The start was fair enough. The winged steed Roused his companion to lightning speed. But, unaccustomed common earth to spurn, Alas, his flashing glances heavenward turn. And, with the instinct of a heaven-born hack, He soon abjures the safe and beaten track. O'er moor and bog and field the trap he drags, And with his fire excites the other nags ; Voice could not check them, nor the ribbons guide, Till, to the terror of the fares inside. The shattered vehicle at last stood still Right on the summit of a lofty hill. '* Well, this is leading us a pretty dance," Quoth Hans reflecting, with a rueful glance ; " Confound it all, but this will never do ; Let's see if we can't bring the madcap to By harder work and a more stinted fare." Th' experiment was quickly made, and ere Three days had passed, only a shadow wan Was the fine steed. — " By Jove, I have a plan," Cried Hans, — *' Alive, my lads, and yoke him now Beside my stoutest bullock in the plough ! " No sooner said than done. The winged horse And bullock o'er the furrows plod their course. Th' indignant griffin strives with all his might Again to soar in his accustomed flight. 344 PEGASUS IN HARNESS. 'Tis vain. The bullock tramps with solemn stride, And Phoebus' steed must by his pace abide Until at length, by long resistance spent, The force from all his mighty members went, And, mastered by vexation and disgust, The noble horse fell writhing in the dust. "Accursed beast," cried Hans in his despair, Laying the whip about with all his might. " E'en for the plough too bad thou art, I swear, That horse-dealer, the rogue, has done me quite ! " While thus the whip in fury still he plied. He marked a smart young fellow at his side Strolling along with free and easy tread, A cither in his hand ; while on his head A golden fillet graced his auburn hair. '* Whither away, friend, with that precious pair? That is a team indeed," the stranger cried, '' Bullock and bird in harness side by side ! Just for a moment trust your horse to me, Will you ? — and you shall see what you shall see." The monster was unharnessed in a crack. And straight the laughing youth was on his back. The brute, now conscious of a mastering rein, Champing, began against the bit to strain : His former self thrown off, behold him rise A God inspired, with lightnings in his eyes. Straight to the storm he spreads his glorious wings And snorting in his freedom heavenward springs. And ere the eye can follow his ascent. He soars above the azure firmament. 345 THE PUPPET-SHOW OF LIFE. What ? Wouldst thou see my puppet-show — Life and the world in miniature ? That privilege you may secure, But do not stand too close, you know. 'Tis only by love's gentle light Or Cupid's torch-flame seen aright. Yes, look ! The stage is never bare : Behold the little child in arms, The bouncing boy, the boisterous youngster's charms, The upgrown fighting man, who all will dare. Each has his own success in mind. But narrow is th' appointed way : The axles smoke, the chariots sway, The hero pushes on, the weakling lags behind ; Pride meets with an amusing fall. And the judicious conquers all. And at the goal behold fair woman stands, With fairy fingers and with eyes that plead, Ready to give the conqueror his meed. 346 TO A YOUNG FRIEND ABOUT TO TAKE UP PHILOSOPHY. Many a task in his youth the Grecian had to ac- complish Ere he a coveted home could in Eleusis attain. Art thou ready thyself to approach that holy of holies, Where her wondrous stores Pallas Athene preserves ? Knowest thou all that awaits thee there, how dear is the bargain, Which at a cost defined purchases what is unknown ? Hast thou vigour enough that hardest battle to venture. Where the reflecting mind, heart and the conscience oppose ? Hast thou courage to face fell doubt's irresistible demon. And like a man to meet foes who do battle within ? Hast thou an innocent heart, and an eye sufficiently healthy Trickery to detect garbed in the semblance of truth ? Then, an thou be not sure of the guide in thine intimate bosom, Fly from the edge in time, fly from the yawning abyss ! Many who seek for light plunge headlong into the darkness ; But a child can walk safe in the glimmer of eve. 347 THE POETRY OF LIFE. TO X. X. X. ** Who could be satisfied alone with dreams, Which life illumine with but borrowed gleams, With mock procession leading hope astray ? To me must Truth her charms unveiled display. Should with my dream my heaven disappear, Should my free spirit, in its bold career Towards unknown possibility's domain, Be hampered by the present's galling chain, 'T will learn at least itself to bear a thrall ; And to the sacred sound of duty's call, Or to the more imperious call of need. Will know to render a more willing heed. How can a man truth's gentle rule forswear. And yet necessity's hard fortunes bear ? " Thus, my superior friend, I hear thee cry From the safe niche which thine own qualms supply, Leaving mere semblance rigidly alone. Struck by the serious import of thy tone. Disperses in alarm th' immortal train, The Muse is hushed, the dancing hours refrain, The Goddess twins, now a dejected pair. Ruefully twine the garlands in their hair, Apollo snaps in twain his golden strings, Hermes his magic wand in fragments flings, 348 THE POETRY OF LIFE. From life's pale face falls dreamland's roseate bloom, And lo, the world unveiled is but a tomb. Fair Venus' child tears from before his eyes Th' enchanted veil ; his mother shrieking, flies Her godlike son a mortal to behold, His ardent youthful beauty sere and cold. And even thy sweet lip and kiss grow chill, And petrifaction blurs their ancient thrill. 349 TO GOETHE. ON HIS PRODUCING ON THE STAGE VOLTAIRE'S ''MAHOMET:' Can It be thou thyself, who led us back From rigid rule to truthful Nature's track, Thou, who, a child in arms, destroyed the worm Whose threatening coils our genius would deform,. Upon whose long-time consecrated brow The arts have bound their fillet, is it thou Who now on ruined altars dost restore The bastard Muse, whom we esteem no more ? Domestic art is proper to this scene, No foreign idols shall our stage demean ; Laurels we proudly boast — our very own — On our dear native German Pindus grown. The German genius has dared to climb To the most sacred heights of art sublime. And, learning from the Briton and the Greek, Would a more glorious renown bespeak. For there, where slaves bow down, and despots rule„ Where bastard greatness smacks of ridicule, There can no art true noble form portray, No Louis there shows the artistic way ; Its life in its own consciousness is found. Borrowing nothing from the world around* With truth alone can it be found allied, And to the free alone it is a guide. 350 TO GOETHE. Not, then, to reimpose the chains of old Dost thou this scene of former days unfold. Thou would'st not lead us back again to gaze Upon our undiscerning childish days — It were in vain, nay, 'twere a very crime To plunge into the whirling orb of time ; The winged hours slip silently away, •Old fashions pass, and new ones have their day. A wider scene the modern stage affords. And all the world now populates its boards ; No more rhetorical conceits are prized, What we demand is nature undisguised ; Banished is fashion's artificial tone. The hero acts and feels as man alone. The freest, fullest notes from passion spring, And real beauty to the truth must cling. An airy vehicle is Thespis' wain, And like the bark of Acheron is fain Ethereal shadow-forms alone to bear. And if the press of life should venture near, The flimsy wherry threatens to capsize — Only for spirit passengers it plies. No outward semblance can the truth attain. Where creature triumphs, art may strive in vain. For in the worldly setting of the stage A world ideal must our thoughts engage. Nothing is genuine, save tears alone ; Emotions are from no illusion grown. Melpomene does not exaggerate. Nor does she fables for the truth relate. The true Muse knows that truth alone can charm, The false assumes it only to disarm. 351 TO GOETHE. Now threatens art to vanish from the boards, And to fantastic visions room accords ; These will the stage and world alike consume, To high and low adjudge a common doom. Art was more common with the Frank, 'tis true,, Yet its supreme conception missed his view ; His unrelenting rule upon her lies With heavy hand, so that she cannot rise. A sanctuary is to him the stage ; And banished from its cheerful appanage Are nature's tones which harsh and careless halt ; He to a song mere language can exalt ; A realm it is of harmony and grace, Each member finds its well-appointed place. The whole becomes one great and solemn fane,, And the gay dance brings motion in its train» No, never let the Frank our art dictate ! He lacks the living soul to elevate ; The ostentatious attitude of pride Disdains the mind which makes of truth its guide ! Guide us it shall up to a higher sphere. And like a vanished spirit shall appear To render fit our much-polluted scene For great Melpomene, the tragic Queen. 352 TO MADEMOISELLE SLEVOIGHT. ON HER MARRIAGE TO DR. STURM. Blessings attend thee, graceful bride, Down Hymen's path about to glide ! With honest pleasure we have seen The sweetness of thy mind unfold, Thy charms assume a shapelier mould, Beneath the sway of love serene. Happy the lot which thou hast found ; And friendship yields without a smart To the soft God who holds thee bound, Who asks, and has intact, thy heart. Thy wedding garland bids prepare For loving duties, sacred care. To which thy youthful heart was blind ; The trifling thoughts of childhood's day, The sports of youth, have passed away. And half-forgotten lie behind. Now Hymen's fetters have control Where fluttering love had spread its bowers ; But for the deeply-feeling soul Those fetters are but chains of flowers. And wouldest thou the secret find The bridal garland so to wind That it shall last for ever green ? It lies in purity of heart Which grace unfading can impart And temper with a modest mien. Which like the sun's reflected glow, To hearts the smiling lustre lends, And can a modest air bestow On dignity which ne'er unbends. 353 A A GREEK GENIUS. TO MEYER IN ITALY. Dumb to the commonplace host, who ply deaf-hearted inquiries, Speaks his spirit to thee, as to an intimate friend. LINES WRITTEN IN A FRIEND'S ALBUM. TO HERR VON MECHELN OF BASLE. Of inexhaustible charm is the youthful beauty of nature, And no less are the charms of inexhaustible art. Hail, esteemed old man, for thine heart doth equally cherish Both, and so thy life is a perennial youth. LINES WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM OF A PATRON OF ART. Once Wisdom dwelt in the great folio'd tome. While Friendship through a pocket-book might work ; But now that knowledge takes so little room. And floats in almanacs, as light as cork. This mighty house, good man, thou dost extend In hospitality to every friend. Dost thou not fear — forgive me if I ask — Their amiability to overtask ? 354 THE GIFT. Ring" and Staff, all hail on a flask of genuine Rhenish ! Who thus waters his sheep, he is a shepherd indeed. Heavenly draught ! prescribed, and sent to me by the Muses, And upon which the Church gladly impresses her seal. WILLIAM TELL.i When angry forces 'gainst each other rise. And by blind rage the flame of war is stirred ; When 'mid the virulence of party cries The voice of justice is no longer heard ; When every crime starts rampant to the skies, And license at the very shrine will gird, Cutting the cable which the State maintains — Here is no matter for triumphant strains. But when a pastoral and simple race, Sufficient for itself, with no desires. Hurls off the yoke it suffered in disgrace, Which in its wrath Humanity admires. And in its triumph wears a modest face — This is immortal, and our song inspires. Such a presentment to unfold be mine, But what is worthy is already thine. ^ These stanzas were sent by the author to the Electoral Chancellor, together with a copy of his play — *' William Tell." 355 TO THE HEREDITARY PRINCE OF WEIMAR, ON THE OCCASION OF HIS JOURNEY TO PARIS. {Sung in a circle of intimate Friends^ Now let us one last bumper drain To speed our traveller's way, Who quits anon this quiet plain In which he saw the day. He leaves his own ancestral halls, From loving arms he goes To the proud capital, whose walls Whole nations' spoils enclose. Discord makes pause, the thunders cease. The very wars repose, The craters we may sound in peace From which the lava rose. . May luck thy devious steps attend Wherever they may roam ! An honest heart did Nature lend, Oh, bring it honest home ! TO THE PRINCE OF WEIMAR. Lands thou wilt cross which bore the stress Of war's terrific strain ; Yet now their smiling fields caress In peace the golden grain. Old Father Rhine thou willst bestride, Who never will ignore, So long his waters seaward glide, Thine ancestor of yore. Do homage to the hero's fame. And pledge the noble Rhine, Old bulwark of the German name, In his own matchless wine. Let German spirit be thy guide, And fail thee ne'er a jot When quivering to that other side Where German faith is not. 357 THE BEGINNING OF THE NEW CENTURY. TO x.x.x. Where shall we find a refuge, noble friend, For peace and freedom on this troubled earth ? The Century in tumult has its end, And murder dogs the new one at its birth. Burst are the links uniting land with land. And ancient dignities and forms decline ; The rush of war the sea cannot withstand, Nile cannot stem it, nor the hoary Rhine. Two mighty nationalities contend For the supreme possession of the world ; Others their hopes of freedom may suspend While thunderbolts and tridents here are hurled. For them must every land its gold afford. And as did Brennus in his ruder day, So does the Frank his heavy iron sword Throw in, the even balance to outweigh. The Briton spreads his all-pervading fleet, Its greedy tentacles abroad are thrown ; Amphitrite's domain he would estreat. And claim the whole of ocean for his own. 358 THE BEGINNING OF THE NEW CENTURY. To unseen regions of the Southern Pole His never-wearied footsteps he directs ; All shores and islands he would fain control, And Paradise alone he still respects. No map or chart there is, alas ! I ween, In which that happy country we shall find Where freedom's garden is for ever green, And youth perennial adorns mankind. In boundless range the world before thee lies. Even the shipping thou canst scarce compute : Yet on its platform of unstinted size For elbow room some dozen must dispute. In the calm sanctuary of the heart Fly to a refuge from this earthly throng ! Dreamland alone true freedom can impart, And beauty only flourishes in song. 359 IN OCTOBER 1788. For that thy golden rays around my head are pro- jected, That I may breathe thy balm; That through the ether to thee my mortal glance is directed, Bathed in a heavenly calm; That an immortal soul thy heavenly power has granted. And in my glowing heart Pleasure and pain alike in turn hast graciously planted Caution and joy to impart; That to express the thoughts of my soul with fitting emotion Thou dost the power afford; That to thy doughtier sons the wreath was the meed of devotion, Mine the inspiriting chord; That my impassioned soul on wings of ecstasy soar- ing, Paints life yet more bright. And in the mirror of song the verities ever exploring, Pierces the dim half-light: — Goddess adored, for this till Destiny hinder its show- ing, Every thought of my soul Shall well forth toward thee, in childlike purity glowing; While from the golden bowl Thine eternal praise. Divine, shall echo for ever. And this sentient heart From its clasp of thy motherly breast no power shall sever Till us Death do part. 360 THE POET'S FAREWELL. The Muse is silent. On her maiden cheek The blushing hues of modesty appear, As she steps forth thy judgment to bespeak, With due respect indeed, but not with fear. His commendation only she would seek Who all subordinates to truth austere. No heart but that for which pure beauty glows Is worthy beauty's garland to impose. So long alone these songs of mine shall live As they can find a sympathetic mind, To which some brighter fancies they can give, And urge a part more noble and refined. To distant ages they will not survive. Their task is done, and they will fall behind. Merely the inspirations of a day, In the light dance of time they pass away. The Spring returns ; the comfortable land New youth attains beneath the vernal fire ; Entrancing odours from the shrubs expand. Gay peals in heaven the celestial choir ; The young and old in one united band Through all their senses happiness respire. But Spring departs ! To seed the flowers fall. And of the past no trace remains at all. 361 st? U.C.BERKELEY LIBRARIES <:D^3SGIDD^^ ■*v'-r 39:228U UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY '^i