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And then the landlord's daughter
Up to heaven raised her hand,
And said, "Ye may no more contend,
There lies the happiest land!"

THE WAVE.

FROM THE GERMAN OF TIEDGE.

"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!

THE BIRD AND THE SHIP.

FROM THE GERMAN OF MÜLLER.

"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 greet thee, bonny boat! Whither, or whence,

With thy fluttering golden band?""I greet thee, little bird! To the wide

sea

I haste from the narrow land.

"Full and swollen is every sail; I see no longer a hill,

I have trusted all to the sounding gale, And it will not let me stand still.

"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.

I HEARD a brooklet gushing

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

So fresh and wondrous clear.

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

bers,

The harp and the minstrel's rhyme?"

"The winds and the waves of ocean, They rested quietly,

But I heard on the gale a sound of wail, And tears came to mine eye."

"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,
Without the crown of pride;
They were moving slow, in weeds of woe,
No maiden was by their side!"

THE BLACK KNIGHT.

FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND.

"T WAS Pentecost, the Feast of Gladness, When woods and fields put off all sad

ness.

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 banners proudly, From balcony the King looked on; In the play of spears,

Fell all the cavaliers,

Before the monarch's stalwart son.

To the barrier of the fight

Rode at last a sable Knight.

Fell the youth from saddle-bow, Hardly rises from the shock.

Pipe and viol call the dances, Torch light through the high halls glances;

Waves a mighty shadow in ;
With manner bland

Doth ask the maiden's hand,
Doth with her the dance begin.

Danced in sable iron sark,
Danced a measure weird and dark,
Coldly clasped her limbs around;
From breast and hair

Down fall from her the fair

Flowerets, faded, to the ground.

To the sumptuous banquet came Every Knight and every Dame; 'Twixt son and daughter all distraught,

With mournful mind

The ancient King reclined,

Gazed at them in silent thought.

Pale the children both did look,
But the guest a beaker took :

"Golden wine will make you whole!" The children drank,

Gave many a courteous thank :

"O, that draught was very cool!"

Each the father's breast embraces, Son and daughter; and their faces Colorless grow utterly; Whichever way

Looks the fear-struck father gray, He beholds his children die.

"Woe the blessed children both Takest thou in the joy of youth;

Take me, too, the joyless father!" Spake the grim Guest,

"Sir Knight! your name and scutch- From his hollow, cavernous breast:

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"Roses in the spring I gather!"

SONG OF THE SILENT LAND.

FROM THE GERMAN OF SALIS.

INTO the Silent Land!

Ah! who shall lead us thither?

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THE SKELETON IN ARMOR.

"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,

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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.

66 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,
Saw 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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