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“WHITHER, thou turbid wave ? Whither, with so much haste, As if a thief wert thou ?

“I am the Wave of Life, Stained with my margin's dust; From the struggle and the strife Of the narrow stream I fly To the Sea's immensity, To wash from me the slime Of the muddy banks of Time.”

THE DEAD.

FROM THE GERMAN OF STOCKMANN.

How they so softly rest,
All they the holy ones,
Unto whose dwelling-place
Now doth my soul draw near!
How they so softly rest,
All in their silent graves,
Deep to corruption
Slowly down-sinking !

And they no longer weep,
Here, where complaint is still !
And they no longer feel,
Here, where all gladness flies !
And, by the cypresses
Softly o’ershadowed,
Until the Angel
Calls them, they slumber !

“And wilt thou, little bird, go with us? Thou mayest stand on the mainmast

tall, For full to sinking is my house

With merry companions all.”. “I need not and seek not company,

Bonny boat, I can sing all alone; For the mainmast tall too heavy am I,

Bonny boat, I have wings of my own. “High over the sails, high over the

mast, Who shall gainsay these joys ? When thy merry companions are still, at

last, Thou shalt hear the sound of my

voice. “Who neither may rest, nor listen may,

God bless them every one !
I dart away, in the bright blue day,

And the golden fields of the sun. “ Thus do I sing my weary song,

Wherever the four winds blow; And this same song, my whole life long,

Neither Poet nor Printer may know."

WHITHER?

FROM THE GERMAN OF MÜLLER.

THE BIRD AND THE SHIP.

FROM THE GERMAN OF MÜLLER.

I HEARD a brooklet gushing

From its rocky fountain near, Down into the valley rushing,

So fresh and wondrous clear.

“The rivers rush into the sea,

By castle and town they go ; The winds behind them merrily

Their noisy trumpets blow. “The clouds are passing far and high,

We little birds in them play ; And everything, that can sing and fly,

Goes with us, and far away.

I know not what came o'er me,

Nor who the counsel gave; But I must hasten downward,

All with my pilgrim-stave ; Downward, and ever farther,

And ever the brook beside ;

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Say ! how canst thou mourn? How canst thou rejoice?.

Thou art but metal dull ! And yet all our sorrowings, And all our rejoicings,

Thou dost feel them all!

FROM THE GERMAN.

God hath wonders many, Which we cannot fathom,

Placed within thy form ! When the heart is sinking, Thou alone canst raise it,

Trembling in the storm!

THE CASTLE BY THE SEA.

FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND.

I KNOW a maiden fair to see,

Take care !
She can both false and friendly be,

Beware! Beware!

Trust her not,
She is fooling thee !
She has two eyes, so soft and brown,

Take care !
She gives a side-glance and looks down,

Beware! Beware!

Trust her not,
She is fooling thee!
And she has hair of a golden hue,

Take care !
And what she says, it is not true,

Beware! Beware!

Trust her not,
She is fooling thee!
She has a bosom as white as snow,

Take care !
She knows how much it is best to show,

Beware! Beware!

Trust her not,
She is fooling thee !
She gives thee a garland woven fair,

Take care !
It is a fool's-cap for thee to wear,

Beware! Beware!

Trust her not, She is fooling thee !

“ Hast thou seen that lordly castle,

That Castle by the Sea ? Golden and red above it

The clouds float gorgeously.

And fain it would stoop downward

To the mirrored wave below; And fain it would soar upward

In the evening's crimson glow.”

“Well have I seen that castle,

That Castle by the Sea, And the moon above it standing,

And the mist rise solemnly."

“The winds and the waves of ocean,

Had they a merry chime ?

Didst thou hear, from those lofty cham- | At the first blow, bers,

Fell the youth from saddle-bow, The harp and the minstrel's rhyme ?" Hardly rises from the shock. “ The winds and the waves of ocean, Pipe and viol call the dances, They rested quietly,

Torch - light through the high halls But I heard on the gale a sound of wail, glances ; And tears came to mine eye.”

Waves a mighty shadow in ;

With manner bland
“And sawest thou on the turrets Doth ask the maiden's hand,
The King and his royal bride ?

Doth with her the dance begin.
And the wave of their crimson mantles?
And the golden crown of pride ?

Danced in sable iron sark,

Danced a measure weird and dark, “Led they not forth, in rapture, A beauteous maiden there?

Coldly clasped her limbs around ;

From breast and hair Resplendent as the morning sun,

Down fall from her the fair Beaming with golden hair ?”

Flowerets, faded, to the ground. “Well saw I the ancient parents, Without the crown of pride ;

To the sumptuous banquet came They were moving slow, in weeds of woe,

Every Knight and every Dame; No maiden was by their side !”

'Twixt son and daughter all dis

traught,
With mournful mind

The ancient King reclined,
THE BLACK KNIGHT.

Gazed at them in silent thought.
FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND.

Pale the children both did look, 'T was Pentecost, the Feast of Gladness, But the guest a beaker took : When woods and fields put off all sad

“Golden wine will make you whole !"

The children drank, Thus began the King and spake:

Gave many a courteous thank : “So from the halls

“0, that draught was very cool!” Of ancient Hofburg's walls, A luxuriant Spring shall break.”

Each the father's breast embraces,

Son and daughter; and their faces Drums and trumpets echo loudly,

Colorless grow utterly ; Wave the crimson banners proudly,

Whichever way From balcony the King looked on ;

Looks the fear-struck father gray,
In the play of spears,

He beholds his children die.
Fell all the cavaliers,
Before the monarch's stalwart son. “ Woe! the blessed children both

Takest thou in the joy of youth ;
To the barrier of the fight

Take me, too, the joyless father ! " Rode at last a sable Knight.

Spake the grim Guest, Sir Knight! your name and scutch. From his hollow, cavernous breast : eon, say !!

“Roses in the spring I gather!' “Should I speak it here, Ye would stand aghast with fear; I am a Prince of mighty sway!”

SONG OF THE SILENT LAND. When he rode into the lists,

FROM THE GERMAN OF SALIS. The arch of heaven grew black with mists,

Into the Silent Land ! And the castle 'gan to rock ;

Ah ! who shall lead us thither ?

ness.

Clouds in the evening sky more darkly

L'ENVOI. gather, And shattered wrecks lie thicker on the YE voices, that arose strand.

After the Evening's close, Who leads us with a gentle hand And whispered to my restless heart repose ! Thither, O thither, Into the Silent Land ?

Go, breathe it in the ear

Of all who doubt and fear, Into the Silent Land !

And say to them, “Be of good cheer!” To you, ye boundless regions Of all perfection ! Tender morning- Ye sounds, so low and calm, visions

That in the groves of balm Of beauteous souls ! The Future's pledge Seemed to me like an angel's psalm !

and band ! Who in Life's battle firm doth stand,

Go, mingle yet once more Shall bear Hope's tender blossoms

With the perpetual roar
Into the Silent Land !

Of the pine forest, dark and hoar !
O Land ! O Land !
For all the broken-hearted

Tongues of the dead, not lost,
The mildest herald by our fate allotted, But speaking from death's frost,
Beckons, and with inverted torch doth Like fiery tongues at Pentecost !

stand To lead us with a gentle hand

Glimmer, as funeral lamps, To the land of the great Departed, Amid the chills and damps Into the Silent Land !

Of the vast plain where Death encamps !

BALLADS

AND OTHER POEMS.

THE SKELETON IN ARMOR.

No Skald in song has told,

No Saga taught thee !
Take heed, that in thy verse
Thou dost the tale rehearse,
Else dread a dead man's curse;

For this I sought thee.

“SPEAK ! speak ! thou fearful guest !
Who, with thy hollow breast
Still in rude armor drest,

Comest to daunt me !
Wrapt not in Eastern balms,
But with thy fleshless palms
Stretched, as if asking alms,

Why dost thou haunt me?”
Then, from those cavernous eyes
Pale flashes seemed to rise,
As when the Northern skies

Gleam in December ;
And, like the water's flow
Under December's snow,
Came a dull voice of woe

From the heart's chamber. I was a Viking old ! My deeds, though manifold,

“ Far in the Northern Land,
By the wild Baltic's strand,
I, with my childish hand,

Tamed the gerfalcon;
And, with my skates fast-bound,
Skimmed the half-frozen Sound,
That the poor whimpering hound

Trembled to walk on.

“Oft to his frozen lair
Tracked I the grisly bear,
While from my path the hare

Fled like a shadow ;

Oft through the forest dark
Followed the were-wolf's bark,
Until the soaring lark

Sang from the meadow.
“ But when I older grew,
Joining a corsair's crew,
O'er the dark sea I flew

With the marauders.
Wild was the life we led ;
Many the souls that sped,
Many the hearts that bled,

By our stern orders.
“Many a wassail-bout
Wore the long Winter out;
Often our midnight shout

Set the cocks crowing,
As we the Berserk's tale
Measured in cups of ale,
Draining the oaken pail,

Filled to o’erflowing.
“Once as I told in glee
Tales of the stormy sea,
Soft eyes did gaze on me,

Burning yet tender;
And as the white stars shine
On the dark Norway pine,
On that dark heart of mine

Fell their soft splendor.
“I wooed the blue-eyed maid,
Yielding, yet half afraid,
And in the forest's shade

Our vows were plighted.
Under its loosened vest
Fluttered her little breast,
Like birds within their nest

By the hawk frighted.
Bright in her father's hall
Shields gleamed upon the wall,
Loud sang the minstrels all,

Chanting his glory ;
When of old Hildebrand
I asked his daughter's hand,
Mute did the minstrels stand

To hear my story.
“ While the brown ale he quaffed,
Loud then the champion laughed,
And as the wind-gusts waft

The sea-foam brightly,
So the loud laugh of scorn,
Out of those lips unshorn,
From the deep drinking-horn

Blew the foam lightly.

“She was a Prince's child,
I but a Viking wild,
And though she blushed and smiled,

I was discarded !
Should not the dove so white
Follow the sea-mew's flight,
Why did they leave that night

Her nest unguarded ?
“Scarce had I put to sea,
Bearing the maid with me,
Fairest of all was she

Among the Norsemen !
When on the white sea-strand,
Waving his armed hand,
Say we old Hildebrand,

With twenty horsemen.
“ Then launched they to the blast,
Bent like a reed each mast,
Yet we were gaining fast,

When the wind failed us ;
And with a sudden flaw
Came round the gusty Skaw,
So that our foe we saw

Laugh as he hailed us.
"And as to catch the gale
Round veered the flapping sail,
Death ! was the helmsman's hail,

Death without quarter !
Mid-ships with iron keel
Struck we her ribs of steel ;
Down her black hulk did reel

Through the black water !
" As with his wings aslant,
Sails the fierce cormorant,
Seeking some rocky haunt,

With his prey laden,
So toward the open main,
Beating to sea again,
Through the wild hurricane,

Bore I the maiden.
“ Three weeks we westward bore,
And when the storm was o'er,
Cloud-like we saw the shore

Stretching to leeward ;
There for my lady's bower
Built I the lofty tower,
Which, to this very hour,

Stands looking seaward.

There lived we many years ; Time dried the maiden's tears ; She had forgot her fears,

She was a mother ;

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