« PreviousContinue »
"And sawest thou on the turrets
The King and his royal bride? And the wave of their crimson mantles? And the golden crown of pride?
"Led they not forth, in rapture, A beauteous maiden there? Resplendent as the morning sun, Beaming with golden hair?"
"Well saw I the ancient parents,
THE BLACK KNIGHT.
FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND.
"T WAS Pentecost, the Feast of Gladness, When woods and fields put off all sadness, Thus began the King and spake "So from the halls
Of ancient Hofburg's walls,
A luxuriant Spring shall break."
Drums and trumpets echo loudly, Wave the crimson barners proudly,
From balcony the King looked on; In the play of spears,
Fell all the cavaliers,
Before the monarch's stalwart son.
"Should I speak it here,
Ye would stand aghast with fear; I am a Prince of mighty sway!"
When he rode into the lists,
The arch of heaven grew black with mists,
And the castle 'gan to rock;
Pipe and viol call the dances,
Waves a mighty shadow in;
Doth with her the dance begin.
Danced in sable iron sark,
Flowerets, faded, to the ground.
To the sumptuous banquet came
Gazed at them in silent thought.
Fach the father's breast embraces,
Pale the children both did look,
"Golden wine will take you whole!" The children drank,
Gave many a courteous thank:
"O, that draught was very cool!"
"Woe! the blessed children both Takest thou in the joy of youth;
Take me, too, the joyless father!" Spake the grim Guest,
From his hollow, cavernous breast: Roses in the spring I gather!"
To the barrier of the fight
Rode at last a sable Knight.
"Sir Knight! your name and scutcheon, O Land! O Land!
For all the broken-hearted
SONG OF THE SILENT LAND.
FROM THE GERMAN OF SALIS.
INTO the Silent Land!
Ah! who shall lead us thither?
Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather, And shattered wrecks lie thicker on the strand. Who leads us with a gentle hand
Thither, O thither,
Into the Silent Land?
Into the Silent Land!
To you, ye boundless regions
Of all perfection! Tender morning visions Of beauteous souls! The Future's pledge and band!
Who in Life's battle firm doth stand, Shall bear Hope's tender blossoms Into the Silent Land!
The mildest herald by our fate allotted,
Beckons, and with inverted torch doth stand
To lead us with a gentle hand
To the land of the great Departed, Into the Silent Land!
YE voices, that arose
After the Evening's close,
And whispered to my restless heart repose!
Go, breathe it in the ear
Of all who doubt and fear,
And say to them, "Be of good cheer!"
Ye sounds, so low and calm,
Go, mingle yet once more
Tongues of the dead, not lost, But speaking from death's frost, Like fiery tongues at Pentecost!
Glimmer, as funeral lamps,
Of the vast plain where Death encamps!
For I can weather the roughest gale
That ever wind did blow."
He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat
And bound her to the mast.
"O father! I hear the church-bells ring,
""T is a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!"-
"O father! I hear the sound of guns,
"O father! I see a gleaming light,
Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark,
Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed
And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave,
On the Lake of Galilee.
And fast through the midnight dark and drear
"Come hither! come hither! my little daughter, The breakers were right beneath her bows,
And do not tremble so;
And ever the fitful gusts between
A sound came from the land;