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Songs

Late resounds the early strain;

Weal and woe in song remain.

SOUND, SWEET SONG.

SOUND, sweet song, from some far land,
Sighing softly close at hand,
Now of joy, and now of woe!
Stars are wont to glimmer so.
Sooner thus will good unfold;
Children young and children old
Gladly hear thy numbers flow.

TO THE KIND READER.

- NO one talks more than a Poet;
- Fain he’d have the people know it,
- Praise or blame he ever loves;
- None in prose confess an error,
- Yet we do so, void of terror,
- In the Muses’ silent groves.
- What I err’d in, what corrected,
- What I suffer’d, what effected,
- To this wreath as flow’rs belong;
- For the ag’d, and the youthful,
- And the vicious, and the truthful,
- All are fair when view’d in song.

THE NEW AMADIS

- IN my boyhood’s days so drear
- I was kept confin’d;
- There I sat for many a year,
- All alone I pin’d,
- As within the womb.
- Yet thou drov’st away my gloom,
- Golden phantasy!
- I became a hero true,
- Like the Prince Pipi,
- And the world roam’d through;
- Many a crystal palace built,
- Crush’d them with like art,
- And the Dragon’s life-blood spilt
- With my glitt’ring dart.
- Yes! I was a man!
- Next I form’d the knightly plan
- Princess Fish to free;
- She was much too complaisànt,
- Kindly welcom’d me,—
- And I was gallant.
- Heav’nly bread her kisses prov’d,
- Glowing as the wine;
- Almost unto death I lov’d.
- Suns appear’d to shine
- In her dazzling charms.
- Who hath torn her from mine arms?
- Could no magic band
- Make her in her flight delay?
- Say, where now her land?
- Where, alas, the way?

WHEN THE FOX DIES, HIS SKIN COUNTS.

- WE young people in the shade
- Sat one sultry day;
- Cupid came, and “Dies the Fox”
- With us sought to play.
- Each one of my friends then sat
- By his mistress dear;
- Cupid, blowing out the torch,
- Said: “The taper’s here!”
- Then we quickly sent around
- The expiring brand;
- Each one put it hastily
- In his neighbor’s hand.
- Dorilis then gave it me,
- With a scoffing jest;
- Sudden into flame it broke,
- By my fingers press’d.
- And it sing’d my eyes and face,
- Set my breast on fire;
- Then above my head the blaze
- Mounted ever higher.
- Vain I sought to put it out;
- Ever burn’d the flame;
- ’Stead of dying, soon the Fox
- Livelier still became.

artist: k. kögler.

THE HEATHROSE.

- ONCE a boy a Rosebud spi’d,
- Heathrose fair and tender,
- All array’d in youthful pride,—
- Quickly to the spot he hi’d,
- Ravish’d by her splendor.
- Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,
- Heathrose fair and tender!
- Said the boy, “I’ll now pick thee,
- Heathrose fair and tender!”
- Said the rosebud, “I’ll prick thee,
- So that thou’lt remember me,
- Ne’er will I surrender!”
- Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,
- Heathrose fair and tender!
- Now the cruel boy must pick
- Heathrose fair and tender;
- Rosebud did her best to prick,—
- Vain ’twas ’gainst her fate to kick—
- She must needs surrender.
- Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,
- Heathrose fair and tender!

BLINDMAN’S BUFF.

- OH, my Theresa dear!
- Thine eyes I greatly fear
- Can through the bandage see!
- Although thine eyes are bound,
- By thee I’m quickly found,
- And wherefore should’st thou
- catch but me?
- Ere long thou held’st me fast,
- With arms around me cast,
- Upon thy breast I fell;
- Scarce was thy bandage gone,
- When all my joy was flown,
- Thou coldly didst the blind repel.
- He grop’d on ev’ry side,
- His limbs he sorely tried,
- While scoffs arose all round;
- If thou no love wilt give,
- In sadness I shall live,
- As if mine eyes remain’d still bound.

CHRISTEL.

- MY senses ofttimes are oppress’d,
- Oft stagnant is my blood;
- But when by Christel’s sight I’m bless’d,
- I feel my strength renew’d.
- I see her here, I see her there,
- And really cannot tell
- The manner how, the when, the where,
- The why I love her well.
- If with the merest glance I view
- Her black and roguish eyes,
- And gaze on her black eyebrows too,
- My spirit upward flies.
- Has any one a mouth so sweet,
- Such love-round cheeks as she?
- Ah, when the eye her beauties meet,
- It ne’er content can be.
- And when in airy German dance
- I clasp her form divine,
- So quick we whirl, so quick advance,
- What rapture then like mine!
- And when she’s giddy, and feels warm,
- I cradle her, poor thing,
- Upon my breast, and in mine arm,—
- I’m then a very king!
- And when she looks with love on me,
- Forgetting all but this,
- When press’d against my bosom, she
- Exchanges kiss for kiss,
- All through my marrow runs a thrill,
- Runs e’en my foot along!
- I feel so well, I feel so ill,
- I feel so weak, so strong!
- Would that such moments ne’er would end!
- The day ne’er long I find;
- Could I the night too with her spend,
- E’en that I should not mind.
- If she were in mine arms but held,
- To quench love’s thirst I’d try;
- And could my torments not be quell’d,
- Upon her breast would die.

THE COY ONE.

- ONE Spring morning bright and fair,
- Roam’d a shepherdess and sang;
- Young and beauteous, free from care,
- Through the fields her clear notes rang:
- So, la, la! le ralla, etc.
- Of his lambs some two or three
- Thyrsis offer’d for a kiss;
- First she ey’d him roguishly,
- Then for answer sang but this:
- So, la, la! le ralla, etc.
- Ribbons did the next one offer,
- And the third, his heart so true;
- But, as with the lambs, the scoffer
- Laugh’d at heart and ribbons too,—
- Still ’twas la! le ralla, etc.

THE CONVERT.

- BEFORE sunset I was straying
- Silently the wood along,
- Damon on his flute was playing,
- And the rocks gave back the song,
- So la, la! etc.
- Softly tow’rds him then he drew me;
- Sweet each kiss he gave me then!
- And I said, “Play once more to me!”
- And he kindly play’d again,
- So la, la! etc.
- All my peace for aye has fleeted,
- All my happiness has flown;
- Yet my ears are ever greeted
- With that olden, blissful tone,
- So la, la! etc.

PRESERVATION.

- MY maiden she prov’d false to me;
- To hate all joys I soon began,
- Then to a flowing stream I ran,—
- The stream ran past me hastily.
- There stood I fix’d, in mute despair;
- My head swam round as in a dream;
- I well-nigh fell into the stream,
- And earth seem’d with me whirling there.
- Sudden I heard a voice that cried—
- I had just turn’d my face from thence—
- It was a voice to charm each sense:
- “Beware, for deep is yonder tide!”
- A thrill my blood pervaded now,
- I look’d, and saw a beauteous maid;—
- I ask’d her name—’twas Kate, she said—
- “Oh, lovely Kate! how kind art thou!
- “From death I have been sav’d by thee,
- ’Tis through thee only that I live;
- Little ’twere life alone to give,
- My joy in life then deign to be!”
- And then I told my sorrows o’er,
- Her eyes to earth she sweetly threw;
- I kiss’d her, and she kiss’d me too,
- And—then I talk’d of death no more.

THE MUSES’ SON.

- THROUGH field and wood to stray,
- And pipe my tuneful lay,—
- ’Tis thus my days are pass’d;
- And all keep tune with me,
- And move in harmony,
- And so on, to the last.
- To wait I scarce have pow’r
- The garden’s earliest flow’r,
- The tree’s first bloom in Spring;
- They hail my joyous strain,—
- When Winter comes again,
- Of that sweet dream I sing.
- My song sounds far and near,
- O’er ice it echoes clear,
- Then Winter blossoms bright;
- And when his blossoms fly,
- Fresh raptures meet mine eye,
- Upon the well-till’d height.
- When ’neath the linden tree,
- Young folks I chance to see,
- I set them moving soon;
- His nose the dull lad curls,
- The formal maiden whirls,
- Obedient to my tune.
- Wings to the feet ye lend,
- O’er hill and vale ye send
- The lover far from home;
- When shall I, on your breast,
- Ye kindly Muses, rest,
- And cease at length to roam?

FOUND.

- ONCE through the forest
- Alone I went;
- To seek for nothing
- My thoughts were bent.
- I saw in the shadow
- A flower stand there;
- As stars it glisten’d,
- As eyes ’twas fair.
- I sought to pluck it,—
- It gently said:
- “Shall I be gather’d
- Only to fade?”
- With all its roots
- I dug it with care,
- And took it home
- To my garden fair.
- In silent corner
- Soon it was set;
- There grows it ever,
- There blooms it yet.

LIKE AND LIKE.

EARLY a bell-flower
Sprang up from the ground;
And sweetly its fragrance
It shed all around;
A bee came thither
And sipp’d from its bell;—
That they for each other
Were made, we see well.

RECIPROCAL INVITATION TO THE DANCE.

- The Indifferent.
- COME to the dance with me, come with me, fair one!
- Dances a feast-day like this may well crown.
- If thou my sweetheart art not, thou canst be so,
- But if thou wilt not, we still will dance on.
- Come to the dance with me, come with me, fair one!
- Dances a feast-day like this may well crown.
- The Tender.
- Lov’d one, without thee, what then would all feasts be?
- Sweet one, without thee, what then were the dance?
- If thou my sweetheart wert not, I would dance not,
- If thou art still so, all life is one feast.
- Lov’d one, without thee, what then would all feasts be?
- Sweet one, without thee, what then were the dance?
- The Indifferent.
- Let them but love, then, and leave us the dancing!
- Languishing love cannot bear the glad dance.
- Let us whirl round in the waltz’s gay measure,
- And let them steal to the dim-lighted wood.
- Let them but love, then, and leave us the dancing!
- Languishing love cannot bear the glad dance.
- The Tender.
- Let them whirl round, then, and leave us to wander!
- Wand’ring to love is a heavenly dance.
- Cupid, the near one, o’erhears their deriding,
- Vengeance takes suddenly, vengeance takes soon.
- Let them whirl round, then, and leave us to wander!
- Wand’ring to love is a heavenly dance.

SELF-DECEIT.

- MY neighbor’s curtain, well I see;
- Is moving to and fro.
- No doubt she’s list’ning eagerly,
- If I’m at home or no,
- And if the jealous grudge I bore
- And openly confess’d,
- Is nourish’d by me as before,
- Within my inmost breast.
- Alas! no fancies such as these
- E’er cross’d the dear child’s thoughts.
- I see ’tis but the ev’ning breeze
- That with the curtain sports.

DECLARATION OF WAR.

- OH, would I resembl’d
- The country girls fair,
- Who rosy-red ribbons
- And yellow hats wear!
- To believe I was pretty
- I thought was allow’d;
- In the town I believ’d it
- When by the youth vow’d.
- Now that Spring hath return’d,
- All my joys disappear;
- The girls of the country
- Have lured him from here.
- To change dress and figure
- Was needful I found;
- My bodice is longer,
- My petticoat round.
- My hat now is yellow,
- My bodice like snow;
- The clover to sickle
- With others I go.
- Something pretty, ere long
- Midst the troop he explores;
- The eager boy signs me
- To go within doors.
- I bashfully go,—
- Who I am, he can’t trace;
- He pinches my cheeks,
- And he looks in my face.
- The town girl now threatens
- You maidens with war;
- Her twofold charms pledges
- Of victory are.

LOVER IN ALL SHAPES.

- TO be like a fish,
- Brisk and quick, is my wish;
- If thou cam’st with thy line,
- Thou would’st soon make me thine.
- To be like a fish,
- Brisk and quick, is my wish.
- Oh, were I a steed!
- Thou would’st love me indeed.
- Oh, were I a car
- Fit to bear thee afar!
- Oh, were I a steed!
- Thou would’st love me indeed.
- I would I were gold
- That thy fingers might hold!
- If thou boughtest aught then,
- I’d return soon again.
- I would I were gold
- That thy fingers might hold!
- I would I were true,
- And my sweetheart still new!
- To be faithful I’d swear,
- And would go away ne’er.
- I would I were true,
- And my sweetheart still new!
- I would I were old,
- And wrinkled and cold,
- So that if thou said’st No,
- I could stand such a blow!
- I would I were old,
- And wrinkled and cold.
- An ape I would be,
- Full of mischievous glee;
- If aught came to vex thee
- I’d plague and perplex thee.
- An ape I would be,
- Full of mischievous glee.
- As a lamb I’d behave,
- As a lion be brave,
- As a lynx clearly see,
- As a fox cunning be.
- As a lamb I’d behave,
- As a lion be brave.
- Whatever I were,
- All on thee I’d confer;
- With the gifts of a prince
- My affection evince.
- Whatever I were,
- All on thee I’d confer.
- As nought diff’rent can make me,
- As I am thou must take me!
- If I’m not good enough,
- Thou must cut thine own stuff.
- As nought diff’rent can make me,
- As I am thou must take me!

THE GOLDSMITH’S APPRENTICE.

- MY neighbor, none can e’er deny,
- Is a most beauteous maid;
- Her shop is ever in mine eye
- When working at my trade.
- To ring and chain I hammer then
- The wire of gold assay’d,
- And think the while: “For Kate, oh, when
- Will such a ring be made?”
- And when she takes her shutters down,
- Her shop at once invade,
- To buy and haggle, all the town,
- For all that’s there display’d.
- I file, and maybe overfile
- The wire of gold assay’d;
- My master grumbles all the while,—
- Her shop the mischief made.
- To ply her wheel she straight begins,
- When not engag’d in trade;
- I know full well for what she spins,—
- ’Tis hope guides that dear maid.
- Her leg, while her small foot treads on,
- Is in my mind portray’d;
- Her garter I recall anon,—
- I gave it that dear maid.
- Then to her lips the finest thread
- Is by her hand convey’d.
- Were I there only in its stead,
- How I would kiss the maid!

JOY AND SORROW.

- AS a fisher-boy I far’d
- To the black rock in the sea,
- And, while false gifts I prepar’d,
- Listen’d and sang merrily.
- Down descended the decoy,
- Soon a fish attack’d the bait;
- One exulting shout of joy,—
- And the fish was captur’d straight.
- Ah! on shore, and to the wood
- Past the cliffs, o’er stock and stone,
- One foot’s traces I pursu’d,
- And the maiden was alone.
- Lips were silent, eyes downcast
- As a clasp-knife snaps the bait,
- With her snare she seiz’d me fast,
- And the boy was captur’d straight.
- Heav’n knows who’s the happy swain
- That she rambles with anew!
- I must dare the sea again,
- Spite of wind and weather too.
- When the great and little fish
- Wail and flounder in my net,
- Straight returns my eager wish
- In her arms to revel yet!

March.

- THE snow-flakes fall in showers,
- The time is absent still,
- When all spring’s beauteous flowers,
- When all spring’s beauteous flowers,
- Our hearts with joy shall fill.
- With lustre false and fleeting
- The sun’s bright rays are thrown;
- The swallow’s self is cheating,
- The swallow’s self is cheating:
- And why? He comes alone!
- Can I e’er feel delighted
- Alone, though spring is near?
- Yet when we are united,
- Yet when we are united,
- The summer will be here.

ANSWERS IN A GAME OF QUESTIONS.

- The Lady.
- IN the small and great world too,
- What most charms a woman’s heart?
- It is doubtless what is new,
- For its blossoms joy impart;
- Nobler far is what is true,
- For fresh blossoms it can shoot
- Even in the time of fruit.
- The Young Gentleman.
- With the Nymphs in wood and cave
- Paris was acquainted well,
- Till Zeus sent, to make him rave,
- Three of those in heav’n who dwell;
- And the choice more trouble gave
- Than e’er fell to mortal lot,
- Whether in old times or not.
- The Experienced.
- Tenderly a woman view,
- And thou’lt win her, take my word;
- He who’s quick and saucy too,
- Will of all men be preferr’d;
- Who ne’er seems as if he knew
- If he pleases, if he charms,—
- He ’tis injures, he ’tis harms.
- The Contented.
- Manifold is human strife,
- Human passion, human pain;
- Many a blessing yet is rife,
- Many pleasures still remain.
- Yet the greatest bliss in life,
- And the richest prize we find,
- Is a good, contented mind.
- The Merry Counsel.
- He by whom man’s foolish will
- Is each day review’d and blam’d,
- Who, when others fools are still,
- Is himself a fool proclaim’d,—
- Ne’er at mill was beast’s back press’d
- With a heavier load than he.
- What I feel within my breast
- That in truth’s the thing for me!

DIFFERENT EMOTIONS ON THE SAME SPOT.

- The Maiden.
- I’VE seen him before me!
- What rapture steals o’er me!
- Oh, heavenly sight!
- He’s coming to meet me;
- Perplex’d, I retreat me,
- With shame take to flight.
- My mind seems to wander!
- Ye rocks and trees yonder,
- Conceal ye my rapture,
- Conceal my delight!
- The Youth.
- ’Tis here I must find her,
- ’Twas here she enshrin’d her,
- Here vanish’d from sight.
- She came, as to meet me,
- Then fearing to greet me,
- With shame took to flight.
- Is’t hope? Do I wander?
- Ye rocks and trees yonder,
- Disclose ye the lov’d one,
- Disclose my delight!
- The Languishing.
- O’er my sad fate I sorrow,
- To each dewy morrow,
- Veil’d here from man’s sight.
- By the many mistaken,
- Unknown and forsaken,
- Here wing I my flight!
- Compassionate spirit!
- Let none ever hear it,—
- Conceal my affliction,
- Conceal thy delight!
- The Hunter.
- To-day I’m rewarded;
- Rich booty’s afforded
- By Fortune so bright.
- My servant the pheasants
- And hares fit for presents
- Takes homeward at night;
- Here see I enraptur’d
- In nets the birds captur’d!—
- Long life to the hunter!
- Long live his delight!

WHO’LL BUY GODS OF LOVE?

- OF all the beauteous wares
- Expos’d for sale at fairs,
- None will give more delight
- Than those that to your sight
- From distant lands we bring.
- Oh, hark to what we sing!
- These beauteous birds behold,
- They’re brought here to be sold.
- And first the big one see,
- So full of roguish glee!
- With light and merry bound
- He leaps upon the ground;
- Then springs up on the bough.
- We will not praise him now.
- The merry bird behold,—
- He’s brought here to be sold.
- And now the small one see!
- A modest look has he,
- And yet he’s such another
- As his big roguish brother.
- ’Tis chiefly when all’s still
- He loves to show his will.
- The bird so small and bold,—
- He’s brought here to be sold.
- Observe this little love,
- This darling turtle dove!
- All maidens are so neat,
- So civil, so discreet!
- Let them their charms set loose,
- And turn your love to use;
- The gentle bird behold,—
- She’s brought here to be sold.
- Their praises we won’t tell;
- They’ll stand inspection well.
- They’re fond of what is new,—
- And yet, to show they’re true,
- Nor seal nor letter’s wanted;
- To all have wings been granted.
- The pretty birds behold,—
- Such beauties ne’er were sold!

THE MISANTHROPE.

AT first awhile sits he,
With calm, unruffled brow;
His features then I see,
Distorted hideously,—
An owl’s they might be now.
What is it, askest thou?
is’t love, or is’t ennui?
’Tis both at once, I vow.

TRUE ENJOYMENT.

- VAINLY would’st thou, to gain a heart,
- Heap up a maiden’s lap with gold;
- The joys of love thou must impart,
- Would’st thou e’er see those joys unfold.
- The voices of the throng gold buys,
- No single heart ’twill win for thee;
- Would’st thou a maiden make thy prize,
- Thyself alone the bribe must be.
- If by no sacred tie thou’rt bound,
- O youth, thou must thyself restrain!
- Well may true liberty be found,
- Tho’ man may seem to wear a chain.
- Let One alone inflame thee e’er,
- And if her heart with love o’erflows,
- Let tenderness unite you there,
- If duty’s self no fetter knows.
- First feel, O youth! A girl then find
- Worthy thy choice,—let her choose thee,—
- In body fair, and fair in mind,
- And then thou wilt be bless’d, like me.
- I who have made this art mine own,
- A girl have chosen such as this;
- The blessing of the priest alone
- Is wanting to complete our bliss.
- Nought but my rapture is her guide,
- Only for me she cares to please,—
- Ne’er wanton save when by my side,
- And modest when the world she sees;
- That time our glow may never chill,
- She yields no right through frailty;
- Her favor is a favor still,
- And I must ever grateful be.
- Yet I’m content, and full of joy,
- If she’ll but grant her smile so sweet,
- Or if at table she’ll employ,
- To pillow hers, her lover’s feet,
- Give me the apple that she bit,
- The glass from which she drank, bestow,
- And when my kiss so orders it,
- Her bosom, veil’d till then, will show.
- And when she wills of love to speak,
- In fond and silent hours of bliss,
- Words from her mouth are all I seek,
- Nought else I crave,—not e’en a kiss.
- With what a soul her mind is fraught,
- Wreath’d round with charms unceasingly!
- She’s perfect,—and she fails in nought,
- Save in her deigning to love me.
- My rev’rence throws me at her feet,
- My longing throws me on her breast;
- This, youth, is rapture true and sweet,
- Be wise, thus seeking to be bless’d.
- When death shall take thee from her side,
- To join th’ angelic choir above,
- In heaven’s bright mansions to abide,—
- No diff’rence at the change thou’lt prove.

HAPPINESS AND VISION.

- TOGETHER at the altar we
- In vision oft were seen by thee,
- Thyself as bride, as bridegroom I.
- Oft from thy mouth full many a kiss
- In an unguarded hour of bliss
- I then would steal, while none were by.
- The purest rapture we then knew,
- The joy those happy hours gave too,
- When tasted, fled, as time fleets on.
- What now avails my joy to me?
- Like dreams the warmest kisses flee,
- Like kisses, soon all joys are gone.

THE FAREWELL.

- LET mine eye the farewell say,
- That my lips can utter ne’er;
- Fain I’d be a man to-day,
- Yet ’tis hard, oh, hard to bear!
- Mournful in an hour like this
- Is love’s sweetest pledge, I ween;
- Cold upon thy mouth the kiss,
- Faint thy fingers’ pressure e’en.
- Oh, what rapture to my heart
- Us’d each stolen kiss to bring!
- As the violets joy impart,
- Gather’d in the early spring.
- Now no garlands I entwine,
- Now no roses pluck for thee.
- Though ’tis springtime, Fanny mine,
- Dreary autumn ’tis to me!

THE BEAUTIFUL NIGHT.

- NOW I leave this cottage lowly,
- Where my love hath made her home,
- And with silent footstep slowly
- Through the darksome forest roam.
- Luna breaks through oaks and bushes,
- Zephyr hastes her steps to meet,
- And the waving birch tree blushes,
- Scattering round her incense sweet.
- Grateful are the cooling breezes
- Of this beauteous summer night,
- Here is felt the charm that pleases,
- And that gives the soul delight.
- Boundless is my joy; yet, Heaven,
- Willingly I’d leave to thee
- Thousand such nights, were one given
- By my maiden lov’d to me!

APPARENT DEATH.

WEEP, maiden, weep here o’er the tomb of Love;
He died of nothing—by mere chance was slain.
But is he really dead?—oh, that I cannot prove:
A nothing, a mere chance, oft gives him life again.

PROXIMITY.

I KNOW not, wherefore, dearest love,
Thou often art so strange and coy!
When ’mongst man’s busy haunts we move,
Thy coldness puts to flight my joy.
But soon as night and silence round us reign,
I know thee by thy kisses sweet again!

LIVING REMEMBRANCE.

- HALF vex’d, half pleas’d, thy love will feel,
- Should’st thou her knot or ribbon steal;
- To thee they’re much—I won’t conceal;
- Such self-deceit may pardon’d be;
- A veil, a kerchief, garter, rings,
- In truth are no mean trifling things,
- But still they’re not enough for me.
- She who is dearest to my heart,
- Gave me, with well-dissembl’d smart,
- Of her own life, a living part,
- No charm in aught beside I trace;
- How do I scorn thy paltry ware!
- A lock she gave me of the hair
- That wantons o’er her beauteous face.
- If, lov’d one, we must sever’d be,
- Would’st thou not wholly fly from me,
- I still possess this legacy,
- To look at, and to kiss in play.
- My fate is to the hair’s alli’d,
- We used to woo her with like pride,
- And now we both are far away.
- Her charms with equal joy we press’d,
- Her swelling cheeks anon caress’d,
- Lur’d onward by a yearning bless’d,
- Upon her heaving bosom fell.
- Oh, rival, free from envy’s sway,
- Thou precious gift, thou beauteous prey,
- Remain my joy and bliss to tell!

THE BLISS OF ABSENCE.

- DRINK, O youth, joy’s purest ray
- From thy lov’d one’s eyes all day,
- And her image paint at night!
- Better rule no lover knows,
- Yet true rapture greater grows,
- When far sever’d from her sight.
- Powers eternal, distance, time,
- Like the might of stars sublime,
- Gently rock the blood to rest.
- O’er my senses softness steals,
- Yet my bosom lighter feels,
- And I daily am more bless’d.
- Though I can forget her ne’er,
- Yet my mind is free from care,
- I can calmly live and move;
- Unperceiv’d infatuation
- Longing turns to adoration,
- Turns to reverence my love.
- Ne’er can cloud, however light,
- Float in ether’s regions bright,
- When drawn upwards by the sun,
- As my heart in rapturous calm.
- Free from envy and alarm,
- Ever love I her alone!

TO LUNA.

- SISTER of the first-born light,
- Type of sorrowing gentleness!
- Quivering mists in silv’ry dress
- Float around thy features bright;
- When thy gentle foot is heard,
- From the day-clos’d caverns then
- Wake the mournful ghosts of men,
- I, too, wake, and each night-bird.
- O’er a field of boundless span
- Looks thy gaze both far and wide.
- Raise me upwards to thy side!
- Grant this to a raving man!
- And to heights of rapture rais’d,
- Let the knight so crafty peep
- At his maiden while asleep,
- Through her lattice-window glaz’d.
- Soon the bliss of this sweet view,
- Pangs by distance caus’d allays;
- And I gather all thy rays,
- And my look I sharpen too.
- Round her unveil’d limbs I see
- Brighter still become the glow,
- And she draws me down below,
- As Endymion once drew thee.

THE WEDDING NIGHT.

- WITHIN the chamber, far away
- From the glad feast, sits Love in dread
- Lest guests disturb, in wanton play,
- The silence of the bridal bed.
- His torch’s pale flame serves to gild
- The scene with mystic sacred glow;
- The room with incense-clouds is fill’d,
- That ye may perfect rapture know.
- How beats thy heart, when thou dost hear
- The chime that warns thy guests to fly!
- How glow’st thou for those lips so dear,
- That soon are mute, and nought deny!
- With her into the holy place
- Thou hast’nest then, to perfect all;
- The fire the warder’s hands embrace
- Grows, like a night-light, dim and small.
- How heaves her bosom, and how burns
- Her face at every fervent kiss!
- Her coldness now to trembling turns,
- Thy daring now a duty is.
- Love helps thee to undress her fast,
- But thou art twice as fast as he;
- And then he shuts both eyes at last
- With sly and roguish modesty.

MISCHIEVOUS JOY.

- AS a butterfly renew’d,
- When in life I breath’d my last,
- To the spots my flight I wing,
- Scenes of heav’nly rapture past,
- Over meadows, to the spring,
- Round the hill, and through the wood.
- Soon a tender pair I spy,
- And I look down from my seat
- On the beauteous maiden’s head—
- When embodied there I meet
- All I lost as soon as dead—
- Happy as before am I.
- Him she clasps with silent smile,
- And his mouth the hour improves,
- Sent by kindly Deities;
- First from breast to mouth it roves,
- Then from mouth to hands it flies,
- And I round him sport the while.
- And she sees me hov’ring near;
- Trembling at her lover’s rapture,
- Up she springs—I fly away.
- “Dearest! let’s the insect capture!
- Come! I long to make my prey
- Yonder pretty little dear!”

FAREWELL.

- O break one’s word is pleasure-fraught,
- To do one’s duty gives a smart;
- While man, alas! will promise nought,
- That is repugnant to his heart.
- Using some magic strains of yore,
- Thou lurest him, when scarcely calm,
- On to sweet folly’s fragile bark once more,
- Renewing, doubling chance of harm.
- Why seek to hide thyself from me?
- Fly not my sight—be open then!
- Known late or early it must be,
- And here thou hast thy word again.
- My duty is fulfill’d to-day,
- No longer will I guard thee from surprise;
- But, oh, forgive the friend who from thee turns away,
- And to himself for refuge flies!

THE EXCHANGE.

THE stones in the streamlet I make my bright pillow,
And open my arms to the swift-rolling billow,
That lovingly hastens to fall on my breast.
Then fickleness soon bids it onward be flowing;
A second draws nigh, its caresses bestowing,—
And so by a twofold enjoyment I’m bless’d.
And yet thou art trailing in sorrow and sadness
The moments that life, as it flies, gave for gladness,
Because by thy love thou’rt remember’d no more!
Oh, call back to mind former days and their blisses!
The lips of the second will give as sweet kisses
As any the lips of the first gave before!

NOVEMBER SONG.

- TO the great archer—not to him
- To meet whom flies the sun,
- And who is wont his features dim
- With clouds to overrun—
- But to the boy be vow’d these rhymes,
- Who ’mongst the roses plays,
- Who hears us, and at proper times
- To pierce fair hearts essays.
- Through him the gloomy winter night,
- Of yore so cold and drear,
- Brings many a lov’d friend to our sight,
- And many a woman dear.
- Henceforward shall his image fair
- Stand in yon starry skies,
- And, ever mild and gracious there,
- Alternate set and rise.

TO THE CHOSEN ONE.

- HAND in hand! and lip to lip:
- Oh, be faithful, maiden dear!
- Fare thee well! thy lover’s ship
- Past full many a rock must steer;
- But should he the haven see,
- When the storm has ceas’d to break,
- And be happy, reft of thee,—
- May the Gods fierce vengeance take!
- Boldly dar’d is well nigh won!
- Half my task is solv’d aright;
- Ev’ry star’s to me a sun,
- Only cowards deem it night.
- Stood I idly by thy side,
- Sorrow still would sadden me;
- But when seas our paths divide,
- Gladly toil I,—toil for thee!
- Now the valley I perceive,
- Where together we will go,
- And the streamlet watch each eve,
- Gliding peacefully below.
- Oh, the poplars on yon spot!
- Oh, the beech trees in yon grove!
- And behind we’ll build a cot,
- Where to taste the joys of love!

FIRST LOSS.

AH! who’ll e’er those days restore,
Those bright days of early love!
Who’ll one hour again concede,
Of that time so fondly cherish’d!
Silently my wounds I feed,
And with wailing evermore
Sorrow o’er each joy now perish’d.
Ah! who’ll e’er the days restore
Of that time so fondly cherish’d!

AFTER-SENSATIONS.

- WHEN the vine again is blowing,
- Then the wine moves in the cask;
- When the rose again is glowing,
- Wherefore should I feel oppress’d?
- Down my cheeks run tears all-burning,
- If I do, or leave my task;
- I but feel a speechless yearning,
- That pervades my inmost breast.
- But at length I see the reason,
- When the question I would ask:
- ’Twas in such a beauteous season,
- Doris glow’d to make me bless’d!

PROXIMITY OF THE BELOVED ONE.

- I THINK of thee, whene’er the sun his beams
- O’er ocean flings;
- I think of thee, whene’er the moonlight gleams
- In silv’ry springs.
- I see thee, when upon the distant ridge
- The dust awakes;
- At midnight’s hour, when on the fragile bridge
- The wand’rer quakes.
- I hear thee, when yon billows rise on high,
- With murmur deep.
- To tread the silent grove oft wander I,
- When all’s asleep.
- I’m near thee, though thou far away may’st be:
- Thou, too, art near!
- The sun then sets, the stars soon lighten me.
- Would thou wert here!

PRESENCE.

- ALL things give token of thee!
- As soon as the bright sun is shining,
- Thou too wilt follow, I trust.
- When in the garden thou walkest,
- Thou then art the rose of all roses,
- Lily of lilies as well.
- When thou dost move in the dance,
- Then each constellation moves also;
- With thee and round thee they move.
- Night! oh, what bliss were the night!
- For then thou o’ershadow’st the lustre,
- Dazzling and fair, of the moon.
- Dazzling and beauteous art thou,
- And flowers, and moon and the planets
- Homage pay, Sun, but to thee.
- Sun! to me also be thou
- Creator of days bright and glorious;
- Life and Eternity this!

TO THE DISTANT ONE.

- AND have I lost thee evermore?
- Hast thou, O fair one, from me flown?
- Still in mine ear sounds, as of yore,
- Thine ev’ry word, thine ev’ry tone.
- As when at morn the wand’rer’s eye
- Attempts to pierce the air in vain,
- When, hidden in the azure sky,
- The lark high o’er him chants his strain:
- So do I cast my troubl’d gaze
- Through bush, through forest, o’er the lea;
- Thou art invok’d by all my lays;
- Oh, come then, lov’d one, back to me!

BY THE RIVER.

FLOW on, ye lays so lov’d, so fair,
On to Oblivion’s ocean flow!
May no rapt boy recall you e’er,
No maiden in her beauty’s glow!
My love alone was then your theme,
But now she scorns my passion true.
Ye were but written in the stream;
As it flows on, then, flow ye too!

NIGHT SONG.

- WHEN on thy pillow lying,
- Half listen, I implore,
- And at my lute’s soft sighing,
- Sleep on! what would’st thou more?
- For at my lute’s soft sighing
- The stars their blessings pour
- On feelings never-dying;
- Sleep on! what would’st thou more?
- Those feelings never-dying
- My spirit aid to soar
- From earthly conflicts trying;
- Sleep on! what would’st thou more?
- From earthly conflicts trying
- Thou driv’st me to this shore;
- Through thee I’m hither flying,—
- Sleep on! what would’st thou more?
- Through thee I’m hither flying,
- Thou wilt not list before
- In slumbers thou art lying:
- Sleep on! what would’st thou more?

CALM AT SEA.

- SILENCE deep rules o’er the waters,
- Calmly slumb’ring lies the main,
- While the sailor views with trouble
- Nought but one vast level plain.
- Not a zephyr is in motion!
- Silence fearful as the grave!
- In the mighty waste of ocean
- Sunk to rest is ev’ry wave.

THE PROSPEROUS VOYAGE.

DISPELL’D are the vapors,
And radiant is heaven,
Whilst Æolus loosens
Our anguish-fraught bond;
The zephyrs are sighing,
Alert is the sailor.
Quick! nimbly be plying!
The billows are riven,
The distance approaches;
I see land beyond!

COURAGE.

- CARELESSLY over the plain away,
- Where by the boldest man no path
- Cut before thee thou canst discern,
- Make for thyself a path!
- Silence, lov’d one, my heart!
- Cracking, let it not break!
- Breaking, break not with thee!

ADMONITION.

WHEREFORE ever ramble on?
For the Good is lying near.
Fortune learn to seize alone,
For that Fortune’s ever here.

WELCOME AND FAREWELL.

- QUICK throbb’d my heart: to horse! haste, haste!
- And lo! ’twas done with speed of light;
- The evening soon the world embrac’d,
- And o’er the mountains hung the night.
- Soon stood, in robe of mist, the oak,
- A tow’ring giant in his size,
- Where darkness through the thicket broke,
- And glar’d with hundred gloomy eyes.
- From out a hill of clouds the moon
- With mournful gaze began to peer:
- The winds their soft wings flutter’d soon,
- And murmur’d in mine awe-struck ear;
- The night a thousand monsters made,
- Yet fresh and joyous was my mind;
- What fire within my veins then play’d!
- What glow was in my bosom shrin’d!
- I saw thee, and with tender pride
- Felt thy sweet gaze pour joy on me;
- While all my heart was at thy side,
- And ev’ry breath I breath’d for thee.
- The roseate hues that Spring supplies
- Were playing round thy features fair,
- And love for me—ye Deities!
- I hope it, I deserv’d it ne’er!
- But when the morning sun return’d,
- Departure fill’d with grief my heart:
- Within thy kiss, what rapture burn’d!
- But in thy look, what bitter smart!
- I went—thy gaze to earth first rov’d—
- Thou follo’dst me with tearful eye:
- And yet, what rapture to be lov’d!
- And, gods, to love—what ecstasy!

artist: e. kanoldt.

WELCOME AND FAREWELL.

NEW LOVE, NEW LIFE.

- HEART! my heart! what means this feeling?
- What oppresseth thee so sore?
- What strange life is o’er me stealing!
- I acknowledge thee no more.
- Fled is all that gave thee gladness,
- Fled the cause of all thy sadness,
- Fled thy peace, thine industry—
- Ah, why suffer it to be?
- Say, do beauty’s graces youthful,
- Does this form so fair and bright,
- Does this gaze, so kind, so truthful,
- Chain thee with unceasing might?
- Would I tear me from her boldly,
- Courage take, and fly her coldly,
- Back to her I’m forthwith led
- By the path I seek to tread.
- By a thread I ne’er can sever,
- For ’tis ’twin’d with magic skill,
- Doth the cruel maid forever
- Hold me fast against my will.
- While those magic chains confine me,
- To her will I must resign me.
- Ah, the change in truth is great!
- Love! kind love! release me straight!

TO BELINDA.

- WHEREFORE drag me to yon glitt’ring eddy,
- With resistless might?
- Was I, then, not truly bless’d already
- In the silent night?
- In my secret chamber refuge taking,
- ’Neath the moon’s soft ray,
- And her awful light around me breaking,
- Musing there I lay.
- And I dream’d of hours with joy o’erflowing,
- Golden, truly bless’d,
- While thine image so belov’d was glowing
- Deep within my breast.
- Now to the card-table hast thou bound me,
- ’Midst the torches’ glare?
- Whilst unhappy faces are around me,
- Dost thou hold me there?
- Spring-flowers are to me more rapture-giving,
- Now conceal’d from view;
- Where thou, angel, art, is Nature living,
- Love and kindness too.

MAY SONG.

- HOW fair doth Nature
- Appear again!
- How bright the sunbeams!
- How smiles the plain!
- The flowers are bursting
- From ev’ry bough,
- And thousand voices
- Each bush yields now.
- And joy and gladness
- Fill ev’ry breast:
- O earth!—O sunlight!
- Oh, rapture bless’d!
- O love! O lov’d one!
- As golden bright,
- As clouds of morning
- On yonder height!
- Thou blessest gladly
- The smiling field,—
- The world in fragrant
- Vapor conceal’d.
- Oh, maiden, maiden,
- How love I thee!
- Thine eye, how gleams it!
- How lov’st thou me!
- The blithe lark loveth
- Sweet song and air,
- The morning floweret
- Heav’n’s incense fair,
- As I now love thee
- With fond desire,
- For thou dost give me
- Youth, joy and fire,
- For new-born dances
- And minstrelsy.
- Be ever happy,
- As thou lov’st me!

WITH A PAINTED RIBBON.

- LITTLE leaves and flow’rets too,
- Scatter we with gentle hand,
- Kind young spring-gods to the view,
- Sporting on an airy band.
- Zephyr, bear it on thy wing,
- Twine it round my lov’d one’s dress;
- To her glass then let her spring,
- Full of eager joyousness.
- Roses round her let her see,
- She herself a youthful rose.
- Grant, dear life, one look to me!
- ’Twill repay me all my woes.
- What this bosom feels, feel thou,
- Freely offer me thy hand;
- Let the band that joins us now
- Be no fragile rosy band!

WITH A GOLDEN NECKLACE.

- DEVOTION a chain to bring thee burns,
- That, train’d to suppleness of old,
- On thy fair neck to nestle, yearns,
- In many a hundred little fold.
- To please the silly thing consent!
- ’Tis harmless, and from boldness free!
- By day a trifling ornament,
- At night ’tis cast aside by thee.
- But if the chain they bring thee ever,
- Heavier, more fraught with weal or woe,
- I’d then, Lisette, reproach thee never
- If thou should’st greater scruples show.

TO CHARLOTTE.

- ’MIDST the noise of merriment and glee,
- ’Midst full many a sorrow, many a care,
- Charlotte, I remember, we remember thee,
- How, at evening’s hour so fair,
- Thou a kindly hand didst reach us,
- When thou, in some happy place
- Where more fair is Nature’s face,
- Many a lightly-hidden trace
- Of a spirit lov’d didst teach us.
- Well ’tis that thy worth I rightly knew,—
- That I, in the hour when first we met,
- While the first impression fill’d me yet,
- Call’d thee then a girl both good and true.
- Rear’d in silence, calmly, knowing nought,
- On the world we suddenly are thrown;
- Hundred thousand billows round us sport;
- All things charm us—many please alone,
- Many grieve us, and as hour on hour is stealing,
- To and fro our restless natures sway;
- First we feel, and then we find each feeling
- By the changeful world-stream borne away.
- Well I know, we oft within us find
- Many a hope and many a smart.
- Charlotte, who can know our mind?
- Charlotte, who can know our heart?
- Ah! ’twould fain be understood, ’twould fain o’erflow
- In some creature’s fellow-feelings bless’d,
- And, with trust, in twofold measure know
- All the grief and joy in Nature’s breast.
- Then thine eye is oft around thee cast,
- But in vain, for all seems clos’d forever;
- Thus the fairest part of life is madly pass’d
- Free from storm, but resting never;
- To thy sorrow thou’rt to-day repell’d
- By what yesterday obey’d thee.
- Can that world by thee be worthy held
- Which so oft betray’d thee?
- Which, ’mid all thy pleasures and thy pains,
- Liv’d in selfish, unconcern’d repose?
- See, the soul its secret cells regains,
- And the heart—makes haste to close.
- Thus found I thee, and gladly went to meet thee;
- “She’s worthy of all love!” I cried,
- And pray’d that Heaven with purest bliss might greet thee,
- Which in thy friend it richly hath supplied.

ON THE LAKE.

- I DRINK fresh nourishment, new blood
- From out this world more free;
- The Nature is so kind and good
- That to her breast clasps me!
- The billows toss our bark on high,
- And with our oars keep time,
- While cloudy mountains tow’rd the sky
- Before our progress climb.
- Say, mine eye, why sink’st thou down?
- Golden visions, are ye flown?
- Hence, thou dream, tho’ golden-twin’d;
- Here, too, love and life I find.
- Over the waters are blinking
- Many a thousand fair star;
- Gentle mists are drinking
- Round the horizon afar.
- Round the shady creek lightly
- Morning zephyrs awake,
- And the ripen’d fruit brightly
- Mirrors itself in the lake.

FROM THE MOUNTAIN.

IF I, dearest Lily, did not love thee,
How this prospect would enchant my sight!
And yet if I, Lily, did not love thee,
Could I find, or here or there, delight?

Flower Salute.

THIS nosegay,—’twas I dress’d it,—
Greets thee a thousand times!
Oft stoop’d I, and caress’d it,
Ah! full a thousand times,
And ’gainst my bosom press’d it
A hundred thousand times!

MAY SONG.

- BETWEEN wheatfield and corn,
- Between hedgerow and thorn,
- Between pasture and tree,
- Where’s my sweetheart?
- Tell it me!
- Sweetheart caught I
- Not at home;
- She’s then, thought I,
- Gone to roam.
- Fair and loving
- Blooms sweet May;
- Sweetheart’s roving,
- Free and gay.
- By the rock near the wave,
- Where her first kiss she gave,
- On the greensward, to me,—
- Something I see!
- Is it she?

PREMATURE SPRING.

- DAYS full of rapture,
- Are ye renew’d?—
- Smile in the sunlight,
- Mountain and wood?
- Streams richer laden
- Flow through the dale.
- Are these the meadows?
- Is this the vale?
- Coolness cerulean!
- Heaven and height!
- Fish crowd the ocean,
- Golden and bright.
- Birds of gay plumage
- Sport in the grove,
- Heavenly numbers
- Singing above.
- Under the verdure’s
- Vigorous bloom,
- Bees, softly humming,
- Juices consume.
- Gentle disturbance
- Quivers in air,
- Sleep-causing fragrance,
- Motion so fair.
- Soon with more power
- Rises the breeze,
- Then in a moment
- Dies in the trees.
- But to the bosom
- Comes it again.
- Aid me, ye Muses,
- Bliss to sustain!
- Say what has happen’d
- Since yester e’en?
- Oh, ye fair sisters,
- Her I have seen!

Autumn Feelings

FLOURISH greener, as ye clamber,
O ye leaves, to seek my chamber,
Up the trellis’d vine on high!
May ye swell, twin-berries tender,
Juicier far,—and with more splendor
Ripen, and more speedily!
O’er ye broods the sun at even
As he sinks to rest, and heaven
Softly breathes into your ear
All its fertilizing fulness,
While the moon’s refreshing coolness,
Magic-laden, hovers near;
And, alas! ye’re water’d ever
By a stream of tears that rill
From mine eyes,—tears ceasing never,
Tears of love that nought can still!

RESTLESS LOVE.

- THROUGH rain, through snow,
- Through tempest go!
- ’Mongst steaming caves,
- O’er misty waves,
- On, on! still on!
- Peace, rest have flown!
- Sooner through sadness
- I’d wish to be slain,
- Than all the gladness
- Of life to sustain;
- All the fond yearning
- That heart feels for heart,
- Only seems burning
- To make them both smart!
- How shall I fly?
- Forestwards hie?
- Vain were all strife!
- Bright crown of life,
- Turbulent bliss,—
- Love, thou art this!

THE SHEPHERD’S LAMENT.

- ON yonder lofty mountain
- A thousand times I stand,
- And on my staff reclining,
- Look down on the smiling land.
- My grazing flocks then I follow,
- My dog protecting them well;
- I find myself in the valley,
- But how, I scarcely can tell.
- The whole of the meadow is cover’d
- With flowers of beauty rare;
- I pluck them, but pluck them unknowing
- To whom the offering to bear.
- In rain and storm and tempest,
- I tarry beneath the tree,
- But clos’d remaineth yon portal;
- ’Tis all but a vision to me.
- High over yonder dwelling,
- There rises a rainbow gay;
- But she from home hath departed,
- And wander’d far, far away.
- Yes, far away hath she wander’d,
- Perchance e’en over the sea;
- Move onward, ye sheep, then, move onward!
- Full sad the shepherd must be.

COMFORT IN TEARS.

- HOW happens it that thou art sad,
- While happy all appear?
- Thine eye proclaims too well that thou
- Hast wept full many a tear.
- “If I have wept in solitude,
- None other shares my grief,
- And tears to me sweet balsam are,
- And give my heart relief.”
- Thy happy friends invite thee now,—
- Oh, come, then, to our breast!
- And let the loss thou hast sustain’d
- Be there to us confess’d!
- “Ye shout, torment me, knowing not
- What ’tis afflicteth me;
- Ah, no! I have sustain’d no loss,
- Whate’er may wanting be.”
- If so it is, arise in haste!
- Thou’rt young and full of life.
- At years like thine, man’s bless’d with strength
- And courage for the strife.
- “Ah, no! in vain ’twould be to strive,
- The thing I seek is far;
- It dwells as high, it gleams as fair
- As yonder glitt’ring star.”
- The stars we never long to clasp,
- We revel in their light,
- And with enchantment upward gaze,
- Each clear and radiant night.
- “And I with rapture upward gaze,
- On many a blissful day;
- Then let me pass the night in tears,
- Till tears are wip’d away!”

LONGING.

- WHAT pulls at my heart so?
- What tells me to roam?
- What drags me and lures me
- From chamber and home?
- How round the cliffs gather
- The clouds high in air!
- I fain would go thither,
- I fain would be there!
- The sociable flight
- Of the ravens comes back;
- I mingle amongst them,
- And follow their track.
- Round wall and round mountain
- Together we fly;
- She tarries below there,
- I after her spy.
- Then onward she wanders,
- My flight I wing soon
- To the wood fill’d with bushes,
- A bird of sweet tune.
- She tarries and hearkens,
- And smiling, thinks she:
- “How sweetly he’s singing!
- He’s singing to me!”
- The heights are illum’d
- By the fast setting sun;
- The pensive fair maiden
- Looks thoughtfully on;
- She roams by the streamlet,
- O’er meadows she goes,
- And darker and darker
- The pathway fast grows.
- I rise on a sudden,
- A glimmering star;
- “What glitters above me,
- So near and so far?”
- And when thou with wonder
- Hast gaz’d on the light,
- I fall down before thee,
- Entranc’d by thy sight!

TO MIGNON.

- OVER vale and torrent far
- Rolls along the sun’s bright car.
- Ah! he wakens in his course
- Mine, as thy deep-seated smart
- In the heart,
- Ev’ry morning with new force.
- Scarce avails night aught to me;
- E’en the visions that I see
- Come but in a mournful guise;
- And I feel this silent smart
- In my heart
- With creative power arise.
- During many a beauteous year
- I have seen ships ’neath me steer,
- As they seek the shelt’ring bay;
- But, alas, each lasting smart
- In my heart
- Floats not with the stream away.
- I must wear a gala dress,
- Long stor’d up within my press,
- For to-day to feasts is given;
- None know with what bitter smart
- Is my heart
- Fearfully and madly riven.
- Secretly I weep each tear,
- Yet can cheerful e’en appear,
- With a face of healthy red;
- For if deadly were this smart
- In my heart,
- Ah, I then had long been dead!

THE MOUNTAIN CASTLE

- THERE stands on yonder high mountain
- A castle built of yore,
- Where once lurk’d horse and horseman
- In rear of gate and of door.
- Now door and gate are in ashes,
- And all around is so still;
- And over the fallen ruins
- I clamber just as I will.
- Below once lay a cellar,
- With costly wines well stor’d;
- No more the glad maid with her pitcher
- Descends there to draw from the hoard.
- No longer the goblet she places
- Before the guests at the feast;
- The flask at the meal so hallow’d
- No longer she fills for the priest.
- No more for the eager squire
- The draught in the passage is pour’d;
- No more for the flying present
- Receives she the flying reward.
- For all the roof and the rafters,
- They all long since have been burn’d,
- And stairs and passage and chapel
- To rubbish and ruins are turn’d.
- Yet when with lute and with flagon,
- When day was smiling and bright,
- I’ve watch’d my mistress climbing
- To gain this perilous height,
- Then rapture joyous and radiant
- The silence so desolate broke,
- And all, as in days long vanish’d,
- Once more to enjoyment awoke;
- As if for guests of high station
- The largest rooms were prepar’d;
- As if from those times so precious
- A couple thither had far’d;
- As if there stood in his chapel
- The priest in his sacred dress,
- And ask’d: “Would ye twain be united?”
- And we, with a smile, answer’d, “Yes!”
- And songs that breath’d a deep feeling,
- That touch’d the heart’s innermost chord,
- The music-fraught mouth of sweet echo,
- Instead of the many, outpour’d.
- And when at eve all was hidden
- In silence unbroken and deep,
- The glowing sun then look’d upwards,
- And gaz’d on the summit so steep.
- And squire and maiden then glitter’d
- As bright and gay as a lord,
- She seiz’d the time for her present,
- And he to give her reward.

THE SPIRIT’S SALUTE.

- THE hero’s noble shade stands high
- On yonder turret gray;
- And as the ship is sailing by,
- He speeds it on his way.
- “See with what strength these sinews thrill’d!
- This heart, how firm and wild!
- These bones, what knightly marrow fill’d!
- This cup, how bright it smil’d!
- “Half of my life I strove and fought,
- And half I calmly pass’d;
- And thou, oh, ship, with beings fraught,
- Sail safely to the last!”

TO A GOLDEN HEART THAT HE WORE ROUND HIS NECK.

- OH, thou token lov’d of joys now perish’d
- That I still wear from my neck suspended,
- Art thou stronger than our spirit-bond so cherish’d?
- Or canst thou prolong love’s days untimely ended?
- Lily, I fly from thee! I still am doom’d to range,
- Thro’ countries strange,
- Thro’ distant vales and woods, link’d on to thee!
- Ah, Lily’s heart could surely never fall
- So soon away from me!
- As when a bird hath broken from his thrall,
- And seeks the forest green,
- Proof of imprisonment he bears behind him,
- A morsel of the thread once used to bind him;
- The free-born bird of old no more is seen,
- For he another’s prey hath been.

THE BLISS OF SORROW.

NEVER dry, never dry,
Tears that eternal love sheddeth!
How dreary, how dead doth the world still appear,
When only half-dried on the eye is the tear!
Never dry, never dry,
Tears that unhappy love sheddeth!

THE WANDERER’S NIGHT-SONG.

- THOU who comest from on high,
- Who all woes and sorrows stillest,
- Who, for twofold misery,
- Hearts with twofold balsam fillest,
- Would this constant strife would cease!
- What are pain and rapture now?
- Blissful Peace,
- To my bosom hasten thou!

THE SAME.

HUSH’D on the hill
Is the breeze;
Scarce by the zephyr
The trees
Softly are press’d;
The woodbird’s asleep on the bough.
Wait, then, and thou
Soon wilt find rest.

TO THE MOON.

- FILL’D are bush and vale again
- With thy misty ray,
- And my spirit’s heavy chain
- Castest far away.
- Thou dost o’er my fields extend
- Thy sweet soothing eye,
- Watching like a gentle friend,
- O’er my destiny.
- Vanish’d days of bliss and woe
- Haunt me with their tone,
- Joy and grief in turns I know,
- As I stray alone.
- Stream belov’d, flow on! flow on!
- Ne’er can I be gay!
- Thus have sport and kisses gone,
- Truth thus pass’d away.
- Once I seem’d the lord to be
- Of that prize so fair!
- Now, to our deep sorrow, we
- Can forget it ne’er.
- Murmur, stream, the vale along,
- Never cease thy sighs;
- Murmur, whisper to my song
- Answering melodies!
- When thou in the winter’s night
- Overflow’st in wrath,
- Or in spring-time sparklest bright,
- As the buds shoot forth.
- He who from the world retires,
- Void of hate, is bless’d;
- Who a friend’s true love inspires,
- Leaning on his breast!
- That which heedless man ne’er knew,
- Or ne’er thought aright,
- Roams the bosom’s labyrinth through,
- Boldly into night.

THE HUNTER’S EVEN-SONG.

- THE plain with still and wand’ring feet,
- And gun full-charg’d, I tread,
- And hov’ring see thine image sweet,
- Thine image dear, o’erhead.
- In gentle silence thou dost fare
- Through field and valley dear;
- But doth my fleeting image ne’er
- To thy mind’s eye appear?
- His image, who, by grief oppress’d,
- Roams through the world forlorn,
- And wanders on from east to west
- Because from thee he’s torn?
- When I would think of none but thee,
- Mine eyes the moon survey;
- A calm repose then steals o’er me,
- But how, ’twere hard to say.

MY ONLY PROPERTY.

I FEEL that I’m possess’d of nought,
Saving the free unfetter’d thought
Which from my bosom seeks to flow,
And each propitious passing hour
That suffers me in all its power
A loving fate with truth to know.

TO LINA.

- SHOULD these songs, love, as they fleet,
- Chance again to reach thy hand,
- At the piano take thy seat,
- Where thy friend was wont to stand!
- Sweep with finger bold the string,
- Then the book one moment see:
- But read not! do nought but sing!
- And each page thine own will be!
- Ah, what grief the song imparts
- With its letters, black on white,
- That, when breath’d by thee, our hearts
- Now can break and now delight!

Fr. Pecht del

published by george barrie

[Editor: illegible word] [Editor: illegible word]

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Songs - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Goethe’s Works, vol. 1 (Poems) [1885]

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Songs

SOUND, SWEET SONG.

TO THE KIND READER.

THE NEW AMADIS

WHEN THE FOX DIES, HIS SKIN COUNTS.

THE HEATHROSE.

BLINDMAN’S BUFF.

CHRISTEL.

THE COY ONE.

THE CONVERT.

PRESERVATION.

THE MUSES’ SON.

FOUND.

LIKE AND LIKE.

RECIPROCAL INVITATION TO THE DANCE.

SELF-DECEIT.

DECLARATION OF WAR.

LOVER IN ALL SHAPES.

THE GOLDSMITH’S APPRENTICE.

JOY AND SORROW.

March.

ANSWERS IN A GAME OF QUESTIONS.

DIFFERENT EMOTIONS ON THE SAME SPOT.

WHO’LL BUY GODS OF LOVE?

THE MISANTHROPE.

TRUE ENJOYMENT.

HAPPINESS AND VISION.

THE FAREWELL.

THE BEAUTIFUL NIGHT.

APPARENT DEATH.

PROXIMITY.

LIVING REMEMBRANCE.

THE BLISS OF ABSENCE.

TO LUNA.

THE WEDDING NIGHT.

MISCHIEVOUS JOY.

FAREWELL.

THE EXCHANGE.

NOVEMBER SONG.

TO THE CHOSEN ONE.

FIRST LOSS.

AFTER-SENSATIONS.

PROXIMITY OF THE BELOVED ONE.

PRESENCE.

TO THE DISTANT ONE.

BY THE RIVER.

NIGHT SONG.

CALM AT SEA.

THE PROSPEROUS VOYAGE.

COURAGE.

ADMONITION.

WELCOME AND FAREWELL.

NEW LOVE, NEW LIFE.

TO BELINDA.

MAY SONG.

WITH A PAINTED RIBBON.

WITH A GOLDEN NECKLACE.

TO CHARLOTTE.

ON THE LAKE.

FROM THE MOUNTAIN.

Flower Salute.

MAY SONG.

PREMATURE SPRING.