h %"'' :»: '^-*' •^' \^'' • >^''<*« \'^^^* .j-^-n*.. ;.' • ' ' « ;. '•^Ao'* J. \*'^''i*'' 5>N/^, -^ --_ •*» A> ^ 5* cV-. -^c .* **"^^ '.''im^.* .«?'"^ »^ . • • .♦. '•'U.o^ V . • • o. C> • J'' : .^'\. V GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS ^ranelations FROM THE GERMAN AND OTHER LANGUAGES AND ©riginal IDereee BYy/ ROBERT TILNEY PHILADELPHIA JOHN C. WINSTON & CO. 2nd COPY, 4\?c.^'^^ 1898. , ;i>n61898 TWO COPIES RECEIVED. 75 3^i1 "j6M8 Copyright, 1898 By Robert Tilney THIS LITTLE VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED TO THE LOVED ONES WHOSE SYMPATHY AND ENX'OURAGEMENT HAVE BEEN THE INSPIRATION OF MANY OF JTS PAGES VENVOI, Go, little booh, thou dream of years, Conceived in days long past; Unconscious source of hopes and fears I send thee forth at last ! ■ What happy hours on thee were spent, Wfiat trlu?nphs I recall, What Joys when stubborn lines were bent, I cannot count them all. My pleasure will not brooh alloy, For if it may so be, I wish that all may share the joy Thy making gave to me. If pleasure from thy use appears, If hearts are happy made. The pleasing toil of many years Will amply be repaid. CONTENTS. TEANSLATIONS. From the German : — page The Minstrel' « Curse irhkmd 3 The Castle by the Sea Uhland 9 The Richest Prince Kerner 11 The Erl-kiug Qoethe 13 The Dying Flower Muckert 15 The Shepherd's Sabbath Song . . . Uhland 19 The Maiden's Lament Schiller 20 The Horseman and Lake Constance . Schwab 22 The Minstrel Goethe 26 Lelshazzar's Feast Heine 28 Mignon Goethe 81 My Fatherland Komer 32 Farewell to Life Komer 34 The Lost Chnrcia Uhland 35 viii CONTENTS. PAGE From the German [continued). Tlie Beggar and His Dog .... Chamisso 38 The Blind King Uhland 41 The Landlady's Daughter .... Uhland 45 The King's Daughter Uhland 46 The Sailor's Wife Wys, Jr. 48 Kemembrance Matthison 49 The Kobber Prufz 51 The Song of the Mountain Boy . . Uhland 55 Castle Eoneourt Chamisso 57 Tlie German Knight's Ave . . Geibel .. 59 The Goldsmith's Daughter .... Uhland 62 The Lorelei ^ferT*^ 66 On the Death of a Child .... Uhland 67 The Dead Soldier Anon. 68 From the French : — Memory's Blossom Milleroye 73 The Dying Christian Lamartins 75 CONTENTS. ix PAGK Fkom the Swedish : — Resignation VH(dii> 77 Nearer Home Anon. 78 Fkom the NoRWEC4IAN : — Arne's Song Bjonison 80 From Horace : — To the Fountain BanJusia 85 To Augustus 86 To His Servant 89 To the Ship Bearing Virgil 90 To L. Sextius 92 To Melpomene 94 OEIGINAL VERSES A Dream 97 Invitation 105 To Mary 107 I CONTENTS. PAGE Original Verses {conUnued). Evening Thoughts lOD Consolation Ill Supplication 113 The Inner vSanctuary 115 A Christinas Carol 117 The Shepherd of Israel 120 The Twenty-third Psalm 122 The Lord's Prayer 126 Fairhill 127 The Chain oi English Song 138 The Days of Long Ago 135 School Davs at Oxford 137 TKANSLATIONS FEOM THE GERMAN. THE MINSTREL'S CURSE. (Uhland.) FTIHERE stood of old a castle, so high and stately -^ too ; It gleamed the wide land over and e'en to ocean blue : A blooming wreath encircled of fragrant gardens rare ; And, decked in rainbow splendor, fresh fountains sprang in air. There reigned a haughty monarch, in lands and con- quests great ; He sat, all pale and gloomy, enthroned in fearful state ; For what he thought was a^^d'ul ; of rage, each glance, a flood ; And what he spake was scathing ; and what he wrote was blood ! 4 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. Ouce journeyed to that castle a noble minstrel pair ; The one in golden tresses, but gray the other's hair : With harp in hand the elder, a handsome palfrey rode, While by his side the younger, with nimble footsteps strode. Now said the elder minstrel, " Be well prepared, my son ; Our noblest songs remember, break forth in fullest tone; Exert thy wondrous power ; now joy, now pain im- part ; To-day 'tis our high mission to move the king's hard heart." In that high hall of columns s(^on stood the minstrel pair ; There, on the throne were sitting, the king and con- sort fair : The king in fearful splendor, like the blood-red northern light ! The queen, so sweet and gentle, as shines the full moon bright. TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 5 The old man struck the harp-strings with wondrous skill, and clear And sweet and strong, rose, richly, the sound upon the ear ; Tlieii did the yomig man's accents w^ith heavenly clearness flow ; The old man sung in concert, like spirit- chorus, low. They sang of love and spring-time ; of golden days that bless ; Of manly worth and freedom ; of truth and holiness ; Of all the sweet emotions that thrilled the human breast ; Of all high aspirations that human hearts impressed. The courtier throng surrounding forgot to scoff and jeer ; The king's brave, trusty warriors bowed low in rever- ent fear ; In joy and grief commingled, the queen, too, sore Threw down before the minstrels the rose from off her breast. 6 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC! FIELDS. ' ' You have misled my people ; would you now be- guile my wife?" Thus cried the king in fury ; he shook with passion's strife ; He drew his sword, which, flashing, the young man's breast pierced through, From whence, not golden music, but streams of red blood flew. The listening throng was scattered as though 'twere by a storm ; Dead lay the youthful minstrel upon his master's arm ; He wrapped him in his mantle, he raised him on his horse. Erect he bound him firmly, then homeward shaped his course. But at the gateway halting, the gray-haired minstrel threw Against a marble column, his matchless harp ; it flew To pieces there, and, shrilly, with a voice that, far and wide. Through hall and gardens echoed, the maddened min- strel cried — TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 7 ' ' Oh woe ! ye halls so lofty, uo song nor harp's sweet sound Through all your spacious chambers shall e'er again resound ; Nay, naught but sighs and groanings, and slave- hood's crouching way. Until the avenging Fury bring ruin and decay ! " And woe! ye fragrant gardens, in May-light soft and fair ; I show the ghastly features of the dead man sitting there, That thereby ye may wither, your crystal springs grow dry. And through all coming ages in desolation lie ! ''And woe! thou godless murderer, thou curse of minstrelsy, Thy strifes for bloody fame-wreaths are all in vain to thee : Thy name shall be forgotten when in endless night 'tis tossed, As dying groans, forever, in empty air are lost." 8 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. The old man thus invoking, the heaven's dread an- swer falls : The walls to dust are crumbled, demolished are the halls ; There stands but one high column to speak of grand- eur past. E'en this, already shattered, another night may cast. Instead of fragrant gardens — a desolate barren land ! No tree dispenses shadow, no spring bursts thro' the sand : No song, no book of heroes, that king's name now rehearse, All vanished and forgotten! behold, the Minstrel's Curse ! TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. THE CASTLE BY THE SEA. (Uhland.) TJ AVE you that Castle noticed ? -*--*- That Castle by the sea : The clouds that sail above it So red and golden be. It seems as though 'twere stooping Into the crystal tide ; And now, seems struggling upward Mid glowing clouds to hide. ' ' Yes, truly, have I seen it, That Castle by the sea : The moon above it standing. And mists that round it be." Did wind and waving waters Go with glad sound along ? From those high halls perceived you Glad music? festive song? 10 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. " The winds and billows also Lay in profound repose : A dirge from out those chambers I heard, while tears arose." Did you the king and consort, Walking above, behold ? Their crimson mantles waving, Beaming their crowns of gold ? Led they not forth with gladness A maiden young and fair? Glorious as the sunlight ! With radiant golden hair ? "Ah ! yes, I saw the parents Without their crowns so rare, And clad in robes of mourning ; The maiden — was not there." TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 11 THE RICHEST PRINCE. (JuKTiNus Keener.) "DOASTING of the worth and number '^ Of their lands in glowing terms, Once sat many German princes In th' Imperial Hall at Worms. " Glorious is the land I govern," Saxony's ruler first maintains ; " Deep within its teeming mountains. Silver lies in num'rous veins." " See in mine, luxuriant fulness," Said th' Elector of the Rhine : '*■ Golden cornfields in the valleys, On the mountains, matchless wine. " " Cities great and cloisters wealthy," Lewis of Bavaria held ; '' Prove my land, in power and treasures, Is by none of yours excelled." 12 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. Eberhard — with beard so ample — Wurtemberg's beloved lord, Said, " My realm hath smaller cities ; Bear its hills no silver hoard ; ** Yet it holds, concealed, a jewel ; Though in vastest woods I stray, In the lap of any subject I my head can safely lay ! '^ Then exclaimed the lords of Saxony And Bavaria and the Khine : ' ' Bearded Count, thou art the richest ! Bears the palm — that land of thine ! " TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 13 THE ERL-KING. (Goethe.) TITHO rides so late through the night-wind wild ? ^^ A father is riding and bearing his child ; The boy is closely embraced by his arm, He holds him securely, he keeps him warm. '' My son, why hid'st thou thy face in fear?" " Oh see'st thou not, father, the Erl-King near ? The Erl-King ! with crown and train ?" " My son, A streak of the mist — it is that alone." " Thou lovely child j come, go thou with me. Delightful games ivill I play ivith thee : On yonder shore many flowers unfold ; My mother hath many a dress of gold." " My father, my father, and dost thou not hear What Erl-King is whisp'ring low in my ear?" " Oh calm now thy fears ; be quiet, my child ; The dry leaves are swept by the night-wind wild." 14 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. " Oh beautiful child, wilt thou go with me f My daughters shall wait on thee prettily ; In nightly dance they shall lead thee, and keep, And rock thee and dayice thee, and sing thee to sleep.^' ' ' My father, my father, and seest thou not The Erl-King's daughters in yonder dark spot ?" "My son, my son, I see nothing, I say. But olden willows that look so gray." " / love thee, am charmed by thy form so fine ; And art thou not willing, by force thou art mine /" " My father, my father, now grasps he thy son ; The Erl-King, to me, hath an injury done." The father shuddered, rode rapidly on, And held in his arms his moaning son ; But when he reached home, in pain and in dread, Alas ! in his arms, the child lay dead. TRANSLATION'S FROM THE GERMAN. 15 THE DYING FLOWER. (RtJCKEET.) TTOPE ! thou yet shalt live to see ^ All the spring's returning joys. Know'st thou not, thus every tree Hopes, when autumn wind destroys, That the bleak long winter through, In their strength its buds may rest ; Till the sap shall start anew. And with bright, new green 'tis drest? ''Ah ! I am no sturdy tree. That a thousand summers lives ; Dreamed each winter dream will be, Spring then fresh bright verdure gives. But a lowly flower am I, Called to life by kiss of May : When beneath the snows I lie Every trace has passed away." 16 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. Since thou, then, a flow'ret be — Modest is thy mind indeed — Let this knowledge comfort thee, All that blossom carry seed ; Let the death storm far and near Scatter then thy pollen-gold, From thy seed shalt thou appear. Self -renewed — a hundredfold. '' Yes, when time myself shall glean, Like myself shall others rise ; Thus the whole is ever green, 'Tis the single one that dies. If what I was, now are they, Then am I myself no more ; Thus I only live to-day. Naught behind me, naught before. ' ' That the sunbeam they receive Is the same that shines on me. My hard lot does not relieve, Doomed to night's eternity. TEANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 17 Sun ! whose tender glances now From afar toward them I see, Why, with chilling scorn, dost thou Smile from out yon cloud on me ? * ' Woe I that I should trust in thee. When thy rays I first did feel ; In thine eyes still gazing be, Until thou my life dost steal ; Its poor remnant I'll witiidrMw From thy cruel sympathy. And, with feverish firmness, draw Self in self and fly from thee. " But my fury and my strife Melted into tears, oh see ! Take, oh take, my fleeting life Everlasting ! up to thee ! All that has my soul so grieved. Thou wilt suffer there no more ; All that from thee I received, Dying, now, I thank thee for.'' .3 18 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. ' ' Ev'ry morning breeze that blew, Quiv'ring me the summer long ; Ev'ry insect bright that flew, Hov'ring near with dance and song ; Eyes my beauty made more bright, Hearts my fragrance made more glad,- Such my mission in thy sight ; Thou, for all, my thanks hast had. " Of thy world an ornament, Though but small the share I gain ; I to deck this field was sent, As the stars the higher plain. But one breath is left to me, And no sigh shall it be found ; My last glance to heaven shall be. And the lovely world around. ' ' Endless fire-heart of this globe ! Let me now expire on thee. Heaven, spread thine azure robe ; Mine, all faded, sinks with me. TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 19 Hail, O Spring I thy glowing sky ; Hail, O Morning Star ! thy breath ; Griefless, down to sleep I lie, Hopeless still to rise from death." THE SHEPHERD'S SABBATH SONG. (Uhland.) rPHIS is the Lord's own day ; I am alone on this broad plain ; The morning bell rings once again, Then all sound dies away. In prayer I bend the knee ; Oh sweetest thrill ! mysterious sound ! As though the unseen spirits round Now knelt and prayed with me. The heaven's wide display. So calm and so serene it lies. As though 'twould open to my eyes ; This is the Lord's own day ! 20 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. THE MAIDEN'S LAMENT. (Schiller.) T !HE clouds are moving, The oak-woods roar, The maiden is sitting On ocean shore. The waves are breaking with might, with might, Her sighs go forth on the gloomy night, Her eyes are discolored with weeping. " The heart is now perished, The world is void. And henceforth to me My wish is denied. Tliou Holy One ! now thy child recall ; Of earthly pleasures I've compassed all In the joy of living and loving. TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 21 " The course of my tears Flows on in vain ; My plaint will awaken The dead not again. Butj^tell me, what heals and consoles the heart, When sweet love's pleasures and joys depart?" " I, the Heavenly ! will not withhold it." " The course of my tears Flows on in vain ; My plaint will awaken The dead not again. To sorrowing hearts the sweetest delight, When beauteous love's dearest joys take flight, Is its mournful pains and lamentings." 22 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. THE HOESEMAN AND LAKE CONSTANCE. (G. Schwab.) A HORSEMAN rode through the valley so bright ; ■^^ On the snow-fields glistened the sun's cold light. So hard through the snow he galloped away, For he hoped Lake Constance to reach that day. That, in the safe boat, both rider and horse Might, ere the night-fall, be ferried across. Along the bad road, o'er the fields with speed. O'er stone and thorn, swept the mettlesome steed. From the mountains down to the level land. He saw the snow lying as smooth as sand. Far in the rear faded village and town ; The way grew level and smooth as a down. Not a hill nor a house the region through ; E'en the rocks and the trees had vanished, too. TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN 23 Thus mile after mile did he swiftly fly, While he heard in the air the wild goose cry ; And the water-fowl fluttering wildly near ; But no other sound saluted his ear. No wanderer there could his eyes discern From whom the right path he could surely learn. O'er the soft snow as o'er velvet rode he ; " Oh, when the bright, murm'ring lake shall I see?" Now early the evening gloom came on, And a twinkling light in the distance shone ; And tree after tree from the mist sprang out^ i^nd hills encircled the region about. He felt on the soil the stone and the thorn ; And his horse's flanks by his spurs were torn. A barking dog leaped up in his path ; In the village beckoned the bright warm hearth. " Fair maid at yon window, a greeting to thee ; To the lake — to the lake — how far may it be? " 24 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. The girl stood amazed the question to hear ; " The lake and the boat are both in your rear; "And but that the ice now covers it o'er, I'd say you'd just stepped from the boat to the shore." The stranger then drew a long breath in fear ; ' ' O'er the plain behind me now rode I here." The maiden threw up her arms in the air ; ' ' Good God ! 'twas the lake you rode over there ! *' Did not the waves 'neath you angry grow, And the thick ice crashing to pieces go ? ' ' In the cold depths became you not food For the hungry pike and its silent brood? " She roused the village the story to hear, And the boys soon gathered around lier near ; The mothers and even the gray-haired ran. '' Think yourself blest," said they, *' fortunate man ! " But come, to our fire and our table repair, And take of our bread and our fish your share." TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 25 But stiffly he sat on his horse, nor heard, Of all they had uttered, a single word. His heart ceased beating, erect stood his hair ; Still grinned the dread danger behind him there. Naught but that horrible gulf met his eye, In whose dark depths he seemed now to lie ; Thundered the crashing of ice in his ears, And the gurgling waves — the cold sweat appears — Groaning, he sank from his horse to the ground, And there a dry grave on the shore he found. GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. THE MINSTREL. (Goethe.) " T)EYOND the gate a sound I hear And on the bridge repeated ; Now by that song let willing ear Within this hall be greeted." Thus spake the king, the pages heard, Quick answer brought ; the king gave word, '* Bring in the gray-haired minstrel." " God bless you, noble lord," said he ; * ' Ye lovely dames, God bless you ; How rich a heaven of stars I see ! Oh how should I address you ? But here, midst pride and power sublime, Be closed mine eyes ; this is no time To gaze in idle wonder." TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 27 His eyes he closed ; then rose a sound Of harp and voice entrancing : The knights with kindling eyes sat round, The fair ones downward glancing. The king, well pleased, a guerdon sought, And, at his word, the pages brought A chain so rare and golden. '* Give not to me the chain of gold, Though much I thank the giver. Give such your knights whose bearing bold The f oemen's lances shiver ; Or him your chancellor's signet wears, And to the golden trust he bears Add yet another burden. '' For sing I as the sweet birds sing That in the trees are dwelling ; My best reward, my sweet songs bring That from my heart are welling. But if I may a favor ask, Then hand me yonder golden flask Of wine so rich and generous." 28 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. He seized the cup and drank it all : ' ' Oh sweet, refreshing pleasure ! Now blest that favored house I call That counts but light this treasure. If well you fare, then think of me, And to your Maker grateful be As I am for your bounty." BELSHAZZAR'S FEAST. (Heine.) rpHE noon of night drew swiftly on ; -*- In silent rest lay Babylon. Above, in castle halls alone. Was tumult heard and bright lights shone. For there, while yet his subjects slept, A royal feast Belshazzar kept. His courtiers sat in shining rank, And sparkling wine from full cups drank. TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 29 Loud rose their shouts, the cups did ring ; The sound pleased well the stubborn king. His cheeks flushed red with feverish hue, With wine his reckless daring grew. Impelled by its blind impulse, he Blasphemed aloud the Deity. His blust'ring voice and impious word With loud applause his courtiers heard. With haughty glance he gave command — His slaves stood ready at his hand ; The golden vessels in were borne, By impious hands from God's house torn. The monarch seized a sacred cup, With sparkling wine he filled it up ; With foaming mouth and impious cry, He said — and drained the goblet dry — To thee, thou God, now be it known That I am King of Babylon ! 30 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. The fearful words were scarcely said, When o'er his heart fell secret dread ; The boisterous laugh at once was stilled ; The hall, a death-like silence filled. And lo ! and lo ! on that white wall A spectral hand was seen by all : It wrote, it wrote on walls so white. In words of fire — then passed from sight. The king sat there with failing breath. And trembling knees, and pale as death. Benumbed with fear, the guests sat round, Nor moved nor uttered they a sound. The wise men came, but failed they all To read the flame-scroll on the wall. And ere the sun arose again Belshazzar by his slaves was slain. TBANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 31 MIGNON. (From Goethe's "Wilhelm Mkister.") TT NOWST thou the land wherein the citrons bloom -"■^ And the golden orange lurks in leafy gloom, Where softest winds from azure heavens blow, The myrtle still — and lofty laurel grow ? Know'st thou it, say ? Thither ! away ! Would I with thee, oh my Beloved One, stray. Know'st thou the house ? — its roof on columns tall — The chambers shine and glitters bright the hall, And marble statues stand and gaze on me, And say, ' ' Poor child ! what have they done to thee ? " Know'st thou it, say ? Thither ! away ! Would I with thee, oh my Protector ! stray. Know'st thou the mountain where the cloud-path lay ? The mule, through the mist, securely feels his way : In caverns dwell the dragon's ancient brood, Down rolls the rock, and over it the flood — Know'st thou it, say ? Thither ! away ! Thither let us go — O Father, let's away. .32 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. MY FATHERLAND-. (KoRNER.) TI7HERE is the minstrel's Fatherland ? Where sparks of noble souls were flowing, Where wreaths for noble deeds were growing, Where strong hearts big with joy were glowing, For sacred things their ardor fanned ; There was my Fatherland. What calls the minstrel Fatherland ? What now, o'er slaughtered sons, is moaning, What under foreign yoke is groaning. The proud name " Land of Oaks" once owning. The free land and the German land ; This called I Fatherland. Why weeps the minstrel's Fatherland ? That 'neath the tyrant's fury being, Its people's rulers tremble, seeing Now broken every promise being. And that its cries no aid command ; So weeps my Fatherland. TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 33 AVhorn calls the minstrel's Fatherland ? Its cries to silent gods are soaring, With desperation's thunders roaring, Its freedom and release imploring, For retribution's vengeful hand ; Thus calls my Fatherland. What would the minstrel's Fatherland ? To crush the slaves its bounds embracing, The bloodhound from its limits chasing, And free its freeborn sons be raising. Or lay them, free, beneath the sand ; Thus would my Fatherland. What hopes the minstrel's Fatherland ? It trusts its righteous cause undying. On faithful sons its hopes relying, And for the great God's vengeance sighing, Nor yet mistakes the avenging hand ; Thus hopes my Fatherland. 34 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. FAREWELL TO LIFE. (KiiRNER.) rpHE wound doth burn ; the pale lips quiv'ring be ; By this faint beating of my heart, too well That life's last moments hover near, I tell : God ! as thou wilt ; I gave myself to thee. What golden pictures did my fancy see ! The glorious vision turns to funeral knell ; But, courage ! what my heart has loved so well Must surely, yonder, ever dwell with me. And —that which I, as sacred, here have claimed — Impatient sought, with youthful zeal inflamed — Which, though 'twere freedom, though 'twere love, I named — I see before me stand a seraph bright ! And, as my senses slowly wing their flight, A breath shall waft me to the morn-tinged height. TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 35 THE LOST CHURCH. (Uhland.) TN yon dense wood, full oft a bell Is heard o'erhead in pealings hollow ; Yet whence it comes can no one tell, Nor scarce its dark traditions follow. For winds the chimes are floating o'er Of the Lost Church, in mystery shrouded The pathway, too, is known no more That once the pious pilgrims crowded. I lately in that wood did stray, Where not a foot-worn path extended ; And, from corruptions of the day, My inmost soul to God ascended : And in the silent, wild repose I heard that ringing, deeper, clearer ; The higher my aspirings rose. The sound descended, fuller, nearer. 36 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. That sound my senses so entranced, My soul grew so retired and lowly, I ne'er could tell how it had chanced That I had reached a state so holy. It seemed to me a century Or more had passed while I was dreaming, When I a radiant place could see Above the mists with sunlight streaming. The heavens a deep, dark blue appeared ; The sun's fierce light and heat were flowing And, in the golden light upreared, A proud cathedral pile was glowing"; It seemed to me, the clouds so bright, As if on wings, that pile were raising Until its spires were lost to sight Within the blessed heavens blazing. And lo ! that sweet bell's music broke In quiv'ring streams within the tower ; No mortal hand its tones awoke ; The bell was rung by holy power. TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 37 And through my beating heart, too, swept That power iu full and perfect measure ; And thus beneath the dome I stepped, With fait' ring feet and tim'rous pleasure. Yet can I not in words make known What there I felt : on windows painted And darkly clear, around me shown. Were pious scenes of martyrs sainted. And wondrous clear before mine eyes, To life that picture broadened slowly ; I saw a world before me rise. Of God's brave men and women holy. I knelt before the altar there, Devotion, love, all through me stealing ; And all the heaven's glory fair Was o'er me, painted on the ceiling. And lo ! when next I upward gazed. The dome's vast arch had burst, and, wonder I The heaven's gate wide open blazed And ev'rv veil was rent asunder. 38 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. What glories on mine eyes did fall, While thus in reverent awe still kneeling — What holier sounds I heard than all Of trumpet-blast or organ-pealing — No words possess the power to tell ; Who truly would such bliss be feeling Must listen to that deep-toned bell When in the wood its notes are pealing. THE BEGGAR AND HIS DOG. (L. A. Von Chamisso.) rpHREE dollars to pay for this poor old hound ! -*- May the tempest strike me down to the ground ! What mean you, gentlemen of the police ? I wonder what new imposition's this ! For an old, sick, helpless, man am I, Not a penny can earn, whate'er I try ; No money have I ; no, nor bread ; indeed, I live but a life of huno-er and need. TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 39 And when I became thus feeble and poor, Say, whose compassion and pity was sure? Who, since God's world I've traveled alone, Himself a faithful companion hath shown ? When grief wrung my heart, whose love then was true? When cold winds pierced me, who warmed me too ? When I, mad with hunger, complaints let fall, Though hungry too, snarled he never at all. 'Tis all at an end between you and me. For parted, my poor old friend, we must be ; Like me, you are old, grown hollow your flanks, And now I must drown you — this is your thanks. This is your thanks — the reward of your worth ; 'Tis with you as Avith many a child of earth ! The devil ! many a battle I've seen. But executioner never have been. Yes, here is the rope and here is the stone. And there is the water — it must be done : Come here, my poor dog — but don't look at me — Yet one step nearer — soon over 'twill be — 40 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. As its neck was caught in the fatal band, Wagging its tail, the dog licked his hand ; Then quickly backward he drew the sling, And round his own neck he twisted the string ; And then, as a terrible oath he swore, Gathering his utmost strength, from the shore Sprang in the stream ; to receive him it leapt, And, circling, above him in silence swept. Though at once to his aid did the good dog leap, And, howling, the boatmen aroused from sleep ; Though quickly the way to the place he led, Yet when they found him, his master was dead. In the silence of night a grave they made And in it the corpse of the beggar was laid ; And the dog that e'en death could not drive from his side. Broken-hearted, lay down on the grave and died. TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. THE BLIND KING. (Uhland.) TT7HY waits that Northern soldier-baud On yonder sea-board higli ? Why doth the old blind monarch stand? His gray hairs wildly fly ? Hear him in bitter anguish call, As o'er his staff he bends ; Across the bay the island's wall Its answering echo sends. ^ Give, robber ! from thy strong retreat, My daughter back to me ; Her sounding harp and song so sweet My age's joy should be. From dancing on the green sea-strands Thou stealedst her away ; To thine eternal shame it stands ! It bows this head so gray." 6 42 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. Now on his rocky ledges there, The wild marauder springs ; He waves his giant sword in air, Then on his shield it rings : " Full many a guard hast thou at call. Why suffered they the raid ? So many serving-men ! yet all To fight for her afraid?" From all that host there comes no sound, From out the ranks move none : The blind king turns himself around ; ''And am I all alone?" His father's hand, his younger son Then grasps with pressure warm ; *' Now let the fight by me be won. Full strong I feel my arm." " A giant's strength, my son, he owns, Before him none may stand ; And yet there's marrow in thy bones, I feel it in thy hand. TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 43 This old true blade I'd have thee bear, 'Twas once a skald's famed pride ; But, if thou fail, my old gray hair Shall rest beneath the tide." Now hark ! with foaming, rushing prow A skiff speeds o'er the sound ; The blind king stands and listens now And all is still around ; Till rises on that far-off shore The clang of sword and shield, And battle-cry and deafening roar That hollow echoes yield. He cries, with mingled joy and fear, " \Yhat mark you there? say on ! 'Tis ray good sword whose sound I hear, I know its sharp, clear tone : Now surely doth the robber fall, His bloody meed hath won : Now hail ! thou hero over all. Thou strong and brave king's son." 44 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. Now once again 'tis still around, Still stands and listens he ; " A rowing and a rushing sound I hear upon the sea." "■ 'Tis they, 'tis they are coming near, Thy son with sword and shield ; And, with him, in her golden hair, Thy daughter dear, Gunild." From yon high rock above the sea The old man ''welcome " gave ; " Now shall my old age blissful be And honorable my grave. Thou by my side shalt lay, my son. My sword so good and strong. And thou, Gunild, the rescued one ! Shalt sing my funeral song." TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 45 THE LANDLADY'S DAUGHTER. (Uhland.) npHREE stuJeuts went over the Rhine one clay, And soon to the landlady's house came they. '' Landlady, have you good beer and wine? And where is that lovely daughter of thine? " ' ' My beer and wine are fresh and clear ; My daughter lies on her funeral bier." And then to the chamber they took their way, Where, in her sable coffin, she lay. The first from her face the covering took And on her gazed with sorrowful look. " If living to-day, fair maid, Vv^ert thou, Then would I love thee sincerely from now." The second put back the shroud again, Then turned him aside and wept in pain ; 46 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. ' ' Alas ! that thou shouldst lie on thy bier, For I have loved thee full many a year. " The third then quickly turned down the veil And printed a kiss on her lips so pale : " I loved thee always, and yet love I thee, And will love thee still to eternity." THE KING'S DAUGHTEK. (Uhland.) ri1HE King of the Spaniards' daughter For learning a trade would be ; Willing she was to learn sewing — Both washing and sewing — was she. ' When at the very first garment A-washing away was she. The ring from her lily-white finger Fell off and was lost in the sea. TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 47 Now she was a simple maiden, And so to weeping fell she ; When, lo ! that very way passing, A knight just happened to be. Now if I the ring recover. What will the beauty give me ? " A kiss on my lips so pretty I could not refuse," said she. The knight threw off his mantle And plunged into the sea ; But when he dived the first time He nothing found, did he ! And when he dived the second time He saw it shine in the sea : And when he dived the third time The knight was drowned, was he ! Oh she was a simple maiden, And she cried again, d'ye see ! Then off went she to her father — " Want no more trade! " said she. GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. THE SAILOR'S WIFE. (I. R. Wys, Jr.) "W HAT splashes so late on the sea so wide ? My daughter, dear, pray, now see." Tis the neighbor's duck that's beating the tide ; Sleep, mother dear, peacefully." " What roars in the water with boisterous force? Dear daughter, my fears grow strong." ' ' A peasant is swimming his favorite horse ; Sleep, mother dear, sweet and long." ' ' Now dreadfully roaring like storm-rage, hark ! Dear daughter, that cry of despair ! " ' ' Nay, singing, the fisherman rows his bark ; Sleep, mother dear, free from care." ** Oh, misery ! oh, pity ! out, out I must go. Now broken my poor heart lies." Thus crying, the mother goes forth in her woe, In anguish and pain she flies. TMANSLATIONS FROM TEE GERMAN. 49 There floats a dead body toward the land On the reed-bound edge of the sea ; Now naked it lies upon the black sand ; ''Oh, merciful God ! 'tis he!" " Now, daughter, indeed, will I sleep, I'll sleep The weary, long night away ; And sweet and long the glad rest keep That nevermore knows the day." REMEMBRANCE. (Frederick Matthison.) T THINK of thee When from yon tree Nightingales render Their love-notes tender : When think'st thou of me ? 50 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. I think of thee When bright hours be To twilight faded, By fountain shaded : Where think'st thou of me ? I think of thee (Sweet agony) With tender yearning And tears so burning : How think'st thou of me ? Oh think of me Till joined are we Brighter stars under : Though far asunder I think but of thee. TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN 51 THE ROBBER. (R. E. Pkutz.) r\UT upon the loDely cross-roads, ^ In the Crucifix's shadow, Stood a robber slyly lurking : In his hand the shining sabre And the bullet-loaded rifle. He was watching for a merchant Who, Tvith money in great plenty, Precious wines, and costly dresses. From the market home was coming. Down had sunk the sun already. And the moon through clouds was rising, And the robber stood and waited In the Crucifix's shadow. Listen ! sounds like angel voices, Gentle sighs and loud petitions Clear as evening bells, are coming Through the silent air toward liira : Sweetly, with unwonted accents, 52 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. Steals upon his ear a prayer ; Eagerly he stands and listens : " Oh, Protector of the Looely ! Oh, thou Guardian of the Lost Ones ! Turn, oh turn thy heavenly countenance, Bright as sunlight, sweetly smiling, Down on us thy humble children. Spread, oh spread thy arms so loving, Arms, that once the cross extended. Like two wings around our father ; That no storm his path endanger. That his good horse may not stumble, That no robber, slyly lurking, In the forest depths may seize him. Oh, Protector of the Lonely ! Oh, thou Guardian of the Lost Ones ! Homeward guide our loving father. " And the robber heard all these things In the Crucifix's shadow. Crossing then himself, the youngest Piously his soft hands folded, TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN 53 While he prayed with child-like lispings : — ■ * Christ ! I know thou art almighty, Sitting on the throne of Heaven Midst the stars' bright golden glitter, Midst the lovely, happy angels ; So the nurse has often told me : Oh be gracious, Christ, I pray thee. Give the bold and daring robber, Give him bread and bread in plenty. That he need no more to plunder. Nor to murder our dear father. Knew I where to find a robber, I my little chain would give him, And my cross, too, and my girdle ; Saying to him, dear, good robber. Take this chain and cross and girdle, That thou need no more to plunder Nor to murder our dear father." And the robber heard all these things In the Crucifix's shadow. Now, afar, he hears him coming. Horses snorting, wheels swift rolling : 54 GLEANINGS FRO 31 POETIC FIELDS. Slowly does he seize the sabre, Slowly does he take the rifle, And then stands there, deeply thinking, In the Crucifix's shadow. Still are kneeling down the children : ' ' Oh, Protector of the Lonely ! Oh, thou Guardian of the Lost Ones ! Homeward guide our loving father." And the father, hither driving, Safe and well and unattended, Clasps the children to his bosom ; Blest their prattle ! sweet their kisses ! But they never saw the robber : Only found the shining sabre And the bullet-loaded rifle In the Crucifix's shadow. Lying there where he had dropped them. TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 55 THE SONG OF THE MOUNTAIN BOY. (Uhland.) rilHE mountain shepherd boy am I ; See, all the castles 'neath me lie ; The bright sun's earliest beams I see, And longest tarry they with me ; I am the boy of the mountain. The mountain stream has here its head, I drink it fresh from its stony bed, As it leaves the rock in its headlong course, I bar it with my arm across ; I am the boy of the mountain. The mountain is my own domain, The tempests round me rage in vain ; Though winds may roar from south to north, Above them all my song peals forth ; I am the boy of the mountain. 56 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. When thunder clouds below me lie I stand beneath the clear blue sky ; I know them all and breathe the prayer — My father's home in mercy spare — I am the boy of the mountain. But when the alarm bell's notes resound And signals light the mountains round, Then down I go and join the throng, And swing my sword and sing my song ; I am the boy of the mountain. TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 57 CASTLE BONCOURT. (L. A. Von Chamisso.) T DREAM myself back in childhood, And I shake my old gray head ; For a memory once more haunts me I had long ago thought dead. Rising from out yon shadow Is a shining castle shown ; I know the tower and the ramparts, The gate, and the bridge of stone. I see upon the escutcheon The familiar lion traced ; I salute my old acquaintance, And into the court-yard haste. There lies the sphinx at the fountain ; There stands the fig-tree green ; And there, too, behind those windows, I dreamed my earliest dream.