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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 SPECIMENS 
 
 CHOICEST LYRICAL PRODUCTIONS 
 
 OF THE .MUST CELEBRATED 
 
 GERMAN POETS. 
 
 F!tOM 
 
 KLOPSTOCK TO THE PRESENT TIME. 
 
 CONTAINING SELECTIONS 
 
 from 
 
 KLOT-STOK. SCHILLER, (JOETIIE, HULTY, BURGEB, UHLANS, HEINE. MAURER, 
 
 11. M fcRGGRAFEy PRUTZ, II. M. LEWIS THE FIRST, KINt; OF BAVARIA, RUOKERT, 
 
 FREILIGRATH, BALIS, BINGELSTEDT , PLATEN, A.HASTASIUS OR0K, 
 
 ZEDLITZ. 
 
 WITH BIOGRAPHICAL AND LITERARY NOTES 
 
 TRANSLATED IX ENGLISH VERSE 
 
 by 
 
 MARY ANNE BURT. 
 
 Second i:<ii'htn. 
 
 LONDON. 
 
 PUBLISHED FOB THE AUTHOR 
 
 by 
 
 ARTHUR HALL. VIRTUE & CO 
 
 15. Paternoati 
 
 1856.
 
 Ov% ccirog eh. % a tE%ye&tE%vi%og ye jiiav. 
 
 Epicharm. 
 
 /.uric, printed by E. Kiesling, Nr. 579, Smith-street.
 
 fT 
 
 HER ROYAL HIGHNESS 
 
 THE 
 
 PRINCESS MATILDA, 
 
 (JKAND DUCHESS OF HESSE-DARMSTADT 
 This Wurk 
 
 IM MOST RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED 
 by 
 
 Mur obedient and humble Servant . 
 
 MARY ANNE HLKT. 
 

 
 PREFACE. 
 
 In these Specimens, I offer to the Public, the fruits 
 ut several pears' study, and research in the German 
 Literature which is so rich and exhaustless in ma- 
 terials that, although I experienced no embarrassment 
 to obtain subjects for my Collection, yet, I found it 
 a responsible, and difficult task to make an appro- 
 priate choice. 
 
 Modern German Literature abounds with an in- 
 tinite number of poetical inspirations which, how dis- 
 tinguished soever they may prove, by a Form, more 
 or less brilliant, these effusions are, nevertheless, entire- 
 ly deficient in true, poetical alloy, for, in our opi- 
 nion, genuine Poetry consists not in the Form alone, 
 something, more elevated and vivifying is required: the 
 Form is but the aerial drapery whose graceful folcU 
 conceal just ideas, and noble sentiments. Byron thought)
 
 VI PREFACE!. 
 
 the Poet was that man who best understood how to 
 love. In the following admirable strophe, Schiller 
 teaches us the Poet's divine mission : 
 
 „Ihm gaben die (Jotter das reine Geinuth , 
 
 Wo die Welt sich, die ewige , spiegelt , 
 Er hat alles gesehen, was auf Erden geschieht, 
 
 Und was uns die Zukunft versiegelt : 
 Er sass in der G otter uraltestem Rath , 
 Und behorchte der Dinge geheiraste Saat." 
 
 But, most Poets are deficient in those qualifications 
 which are indispensable in the high-priesthood of Nations. 
 We are led to imagine that, there are a great 
 number of German Poets who have, too strictly, con- 
 formed to a precept which has been attributed to that 
 celebrated, Diplomatist, the Prince de Talleyrand: 
 „ Words have been bestowed on Man, for no purpose, 
 save , to conceal his thoughts." Such authors obtain 
 not the smallest number of readers, for, as Goethe 
 remarks in „Faust:" 
 
 „Die Meisten glauben , wenn sie Worte horen , 
 
 Es miisse sich dabei doch auch was denken lassen." 
 
 1 feel not ambitious to obtain the suffrage of this 
 class of the Public, and therefore I have only trans- 
 lated those Compositions which, sympathetically, speak
 
 i'ltKKACK. VII 
 
 to the miud, and heart; the true Poet is keenly .sen- 
 sitive in both. 
 
 A German Scholar of eminent talent, who ha.s 
 equally distinguished himself in the literary world, by his 
 pure and elegant style , and by his poetical, and philo- 
 sophical works, has been my constant Guide in this 
 responsible undertaking: I feel greatly indebted for his 
 valuable and conscientious superintendence. To this 
 Gentleman, and to other noble-minded and intellectual 
 Individuals, I offer my tribute of gratitude, for the 
 lively and generous interest they have taken in my Work. 
 
 Although, among the modern German Poets, there 
 arc a great many whose productions are worthy of 
 immortality, yet, 1 cannot deny that, Schiller and Goethe 
 have made the most profound inpression on my ima- 
 gination, and, for that reason, the Inspirations of those 
 justly-celebrated Poets, will occupy the most prominent 
 place in this Collection. 
 
 At no distant epoch, I shall publish a second 
 Volume which will contain the Biography, and Selections 
 from the most remarkable lyric Effasiotes of other Ger-
 
 VIII PREFACE. 
 
 man Poets whom I consider worthy to be classed with 
 those who appeared in the first Volume, therefore my 
 Work will form a complete series of modern German Poetry. 
 Notwithstanding that the study of the German 
 language is, now, become so extremely fashionable in 
 England T as to be considered indispensable in a polite 
 education, yet there are, comparatively, few persons 
 who are sufficiently initiated to be enabled, scientifi- 
 cally, to comprehend the Soul of a language, so 
 luxuriant, and varied in lyric productions, as the Ger- 
 man; I therefore hope that, this Volume and the suc- 
 ceeding ones, may experience a favourable reception 
 from many individuals who are interested in this sphere 
 of literature, although circumstances may preven tthose 
 persons from being profoundly acquainted with a lan- 
 guage which is, universally, acknowledged to contain diffi- 
 culties, almost insurmountable to countless foreigners who 
 desire to become sufficiently masters of that language, 
 to be enabled to understand the German classic Authors. 
 
 ZURICH, June 30. 1855. ]fl ^ Blirt
 
 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 
 
 X he celebrated German Poet, Frederick Godfrey 
 Klopstock, the author of the „Messiah", was born the 
 second of July i 724 at Quedlinburg, where his father 
 was counsellor. lie was a loyal, pious, and honourable 
 man, with a mind of original turn. At a later period, 
 he undertook the stewardship of Friedeburg, in the 
 county of Mansfield. Here, under the superintendence 
 of bis excellent parents, and animated by the benign 
 influence of a magnificent nature, Klopstock became 
 a youth whose soul acquired fortitude, without any 
 detriment to his corporeal frame , for he was endued 
 with the strength, and courage of a young lion, and 
 dangerous and athletic sports were his delight. Horse- 
 manship, and the pleasures of the chase were his 
 favourite amusements, and he was the most agile skaiter 
 in the neighbourhood. 
 
 Possessed of extraordinary qualities, not a spoiled 
 child, but the child of Nature, he returned, in the 
 
 1
 
 2 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 
 
 thirteenth year of his age, with lii.s father, to Quedlin- 
 burg, and, during several years, attended the college 
 there, and afterwards, went to the college of Schul- 
 pforte, where so many men of brilliant talent have 
 studied, and where also Klopstock, under the direction 
 of the Rector Freitag, and Professor Stiibel, received 
 his education. The noble productions of Greece, and 
 Rome fortified the pinions of his soul, purified his taste, 
 and occasioned the young student to declare himself 
 the ardent friend of the Muses, and, already, at the 
 college of Schulpforte, was awakened in his soul the 
 idea of becoming to the Germans, what Homer had been 
 to the Greeks, and Virgil to the Romans. 
 
 At first, an intimate friend, the city-arehitect, ap- 
 peared to him worthy to form the subject of a grand 
 epic poem, however, his pious mind soon rose towards 
 Him who holds the first rank in history, and who 
 unites humanity to the Godhead — the Messiah. Ani- 
 mated by this grand idea, he went, in 1745, to the 
 academy of Jena. Theology was to have been his 
 profession, but this study was not congenial to his 
 taste, his genius attracted, and retained him captive 
 in the sublime sphere of poetry, and he lived, and 
 worked in the sanctuary of the Muses. In the solitude 
 of Jena he composed the first canto of the „Messiah"; 
 the original form of this immortal work was somewhat
 
 FREDERICK CODFREY KI.OI'STOCK. .'! 
 
 prosaic, because all the styles of versification, hitherto 
 employed in German poetical compositions, did not 
 appear to him to harmonize with the subject. In the 
 mean time Klopstock felt ill at ease, at Jena; he re- 
 quired a sympathetic soul — a friend, and not finding 
 one, after a hn months 1 residence at Jena, he wenl to 
 Leipsic, b) the invitation of his friend Schmidt, of 
 Langensalza, and inhabited the same apartment with 
 him. 
 
 At Leipsie, he formed the acquaintance of the ex- 
 cellent Kiihnert, Rothe, and Okie, sympathetic souls, 
 and contracted with them the tics of the most noble 
 and intimate friendship, and here the young Poet asso- 
 ciated with that literary union which , at this epoch, 
 under the direction of Schwabe, was composed of 
 Gartner, Schlegel, Gieseke, Zacharia, Rabner, Ebert, 
 Gellert, and many others, of eminent talent, who were 
 the ornament of Leipsic. In this city, in 1748. he 
 publicly appeared, as a lyric poet, and, the same year 
 were published in the ^Miscellany of Bremen" f„Bremi- 
 schen Beitragen"), the first three cantos of the „Mesaiah", 
 in the sublime and sonorous metre of Homer, in hexa- 
 meters, which had not, hitherto, been employed by the 
 German poets. 
 
 As extraordinary as the composition, itself, waa that 
 sensation, produced in the sphere of literature, by this
 
 4 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 
 
 masterpiece of Klopst'ock. Thousands of voices, amongst 
 others, those of Gottschecl and his followers, launched 
 forth vitnperous critiques, and pronounced anathemas 
 against the author of the „Messiah" ; but , to the enlight- 
 ened, and reasonable, he was a subject of respectful 
 admiration. Even Lessing and Bodmer paid him a just 
 tribute of praise, and, by a considerable number of 
 persons, he was regarded as a saint, and lauded as a 
 ]>rophet of the ancient times. There were many theo- 
 logians who fulminated against the ^Messiah", which 
 they regarded as a religious book, and, consequently, 
 in one point of view, entirely false. 
 
 One day, a good and simple-minded pastor, from 
 the country, came to Klopstock, in order to solicit that, 
 he woidd not allow the fallen angel, Abadonna, to enter 
 the kingdom of Heaven! 
 
 In the mean time Klopstock's friends were dispersed, 
 and he found himself, at Leipsic, solitary and uncom- 
 fortable. He was impatient to quit that city, and, in 
 1748, he accepted an invitation to Langensalza, where 
 he superintended the education of the children of an 
 intimate friend, named Weisse. Here he hoped, with 
 inexpressible ardour, to find the paradise of his life, 
 for here resided the charming sister of Schmidt, named 
 Fanny, whom he has immortalized, and, whose acquaint- 
 ance he had formerly contracted, and whom he had
 
 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 5 
 
 already learned to love. However, his hopes and as- 
 pirations were doomed never to be realized; he obtained, 
 from the object of his adoration, profound respect, 
 while a passion, the most pure, and the most violent, 
 continually corroded bis soul, and obscured, as with 
 a melancholy and elegiac breath, his glowing mirror 
 of life. Thus, to speak in the words of one of the 
 best German critics, Klopstock expiated an unintentional 
 error, by the loss of the loveliest flower of the soul, 
 and he sought consolation, in vain. 
 
 While he was a prey to this painful state of mind, 
 his fame spread widely round, and from the north, and 
 south he received invitations, but he accepted that of 
 Bodmer, to join him at his country-house near the 
 Alps. Here, amid the magnificently grand scenery of 
 Nature, in a land of liberty, and simplicity, he resided, 
 amid a circle of congenial friends, in the enjoyment 
 of health, and his accustomed gaiety of heart. 
 
 In 1750 Klopstock went to Zurich, and, in the 
 pure air of Switzerland, he breathed more freely, his 
 heart became fortified, his ideas chaffed, for liberty, and 
 his fatherland, and his soid still more devoted to the 
 Muses. 
 
 In Switzerland the } ,Messiah" found more admirers 
 than in Germany, which is by no mean.- surprising, as 
 his friends made every effort to detain the Poet among
 
 6 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 
 
 them, and to make his residence agreeable. Respect, 
 even veneration, greeted him every where, and he who 
 had been so deeply wounded in the neighbourhood of 
 Fanny, now found himself happy, under the benign 
 influence of a serene sky, and among the inhabitants 
 of the Alps. 
 
 In the mean time the author of the „Messiah" had 
 been recommended, by the two Counts of Bemstorf, 
 and Moltke, to Frederick the Fifth, of Denmark, and 
 he received from this noble King, an invitation to 
 Copenhagen, and a pension of 400 dollars, in order 
 to enable him to reside, there and, without any re- 
 sponsible employment, terminate the „Messiah u . Klop- 
 stock, with gratitude, accepted the invitation, and, in 
 1754, again went to Copenhagen. He passed through 
 Quedlinburg, where he pressed his parents to his heart, 
 and received the benediction of his aged grand-mother 
 who, in his youth, by her good example , and precepts, 
 had exercised so great an influence on the religious 
 tenor of his mind. 
 
 In Brunswick, a city through which his journey 
 led him, resided many of his Leipsic friends, and the 
 hastened, joyously, to greet them; one of these, the 
 faithful Gieseke, directed his attention towards one of 
 his most sincere admirers, a young lady of Hamburg, 
 named Margareta Moller (Meta).
 
 FREDERICK GODFREY CLOPSTOI K 7 
 
 „You must grant, this charming young lady the 
 pleasure of a personal acquaintance", remarked the friend 
 to the friend, at the moment of depart hit, and he gave 
 her address. Klopstock arrived in Hamburg, and ac- 
 complished the desire of Gieseke. He found a young 
 lady, of captivating maimers, full of sensibility, and 
 possessed of great personal attractions. So deep was 
 the impression produced on EQopstock's mind, that he 
 internally resolved, at no distant period, .to offer Mar- 
 gareta Moller his hand, in marriage. Meta's feeling 
 was sympathetic; their hearts were united in the most 
 tender love, and the Poet, from that period, celebrated 
 Mreta, under the name of Cidli: 
 
 „The earthly joys that slept awhile, 
 From slumber now awake, and smile." 
 
 At Copenhagen, a brilliant and honourable reception 
 awaited Klopstock, he was admitted to the court circle 
 with marked respect; however, he preferred solitude, 
 there he could muse on his beloved, and sing the 
 „Messiah". 
 
 In 1752, Klopstock followed the King Christian to 
 Holstein, from thence he paid a visit to Meta. He 
 returned the same year, with his noble patron, to Co- 
 penhagen, and remained there the following year, I'm 
 in the spring of 1754 he again saw his Rleta, and on 
 the 10 th of June the lovers were united. Klopstock
 
 8 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 
 
 paints his happiness, which was sanctified by the ray 
 of religion, in the following words, full of enthusiasm: 
 „Now that Meta is mine own, I can appreciate all the 
 value of a terrestrial life, and I thank the God of 
 Heaven, who gave me sentiments to glorify him. The 
 bliss of an earthly existence has been given me, the 
 palm of victory is in my hand; I will sing unto thee 
 songs of gratitude, oh, Jehovah!" 
 
 This flower of earthly happiness was too beautiful 
 to be of long duration; after five years had rapidly 
 passed away, that flower was blighted by death, at 
 the time the happy couple flattered themselves that 
 they should press to their heart a pledge of mutual 
 love. Meta died in childbirth, the 25th of November 
 1759. The broken-hearted widower interred the remains 
 of his Meta in the cimetery of Ottensen, a village not 
 far from Hamburg. The sisters and friends of the 
 departed planted a linden-tree on her tomb; that tree 
 grew luxuriantly, and, at a later period, o'ershadowed 
 the tomb of Klopstock. The poet had the following 
 simple and touching inscription written over the resting- 
 place of Meta : 
 
 „Seed sown by God, to ripen at the day of judgement." 
 
 How painfully this bereavement touched each fibre 
 of happiness in the life of our noble Poet, can only be 
 appreciated by that small number of persons to whom
 
 KRKDKR1CK GODFBBT KLOPSTOCK. 9 
 
 the Almighty has given a similar treasure to that, of 
 which Klopstock had been deprived; lmt his moral force 
 was, at that epoch, raised to SO high a point, that he 
 could, comparatively speaking prescribe to his grief those 
 limits to which it might extend, without absorbing him 
 entirely. From the heart of his noble friend, Bcrnstorf, 
 and from the Muses, he extracted, anew, both peace, 
 and gaiety. 
 
 In 1771 Bcrnstorf received his dismission, as mi- 
 nister of state, but, with the title of counsellor to the 
 legation which had been granted him previously, he 
 still retained his salary, and permission to reside where 
 he pleased. Klopstock accompanied him to his paternal 
 estate, and the society he there found, still farther 
 served to dissipate his grief. 
 
 In 1775 the celebrated Poet was in the most ho- 
 nourable manner, invited to Carlsruhe, by Frederick 
 of Baden. He accepted the invitation. There, countless 
 demonstrations of princely favour, and of public vene- 
 ration awaited him. But his residence at Carlsruhe did 
 not suit Klopstock, his heart impelled him to return 
 to the north of Germany, and Frederick of Baden, gene- 
 rously put no restraint on his inclinations, though he 
 would, willingly, have retained him. This Prince con- 
 ferred on Klopstock the title of aulic counsellor, and 
 granted him a pension for the remainder of his life. Free as
 
 10 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 
 
 he felt to make a choice, where could he find a place, 
 more congenial to his feelings than that spot on which 
 had lived his beloved Meta, at whose side he hoped, 
 one day, to repose! He hastened to Hamburg, decided 
 to dwell there, during the remainder of his earthly 
 career. He was highly esteemed by his fellow-citizens, 
 whose glory he justly was. Klopstock received honour 
 from those in whose heart throbbed true German senti- 
 ments, and devotion towards their fatherland; he was 
 a subject of admiration to all strangers, who considered 
 it a misfortune to have quitted Hamburg, without having 
 seen the author of the „Messiah". 
 
 The French Revolution which afterwards broke out, 
 filled the heart of the venerable Poet who had ever 
 been enthusiastic for liberty, with the sublimest aspi- 
 rations, and many noble Germans partook his senti- 
 ments, and those hopes, for the happiness of humanity, 
 which he entertained on the subject, and which found 
 expression in odes, full of poetic fire. He sang: 
 
 „Thou era of felicity ! 
 
 How blest am I to welcome thee !" 
 
 In gratitude for his sympathies, they who held the 
 reins of government, in France, who were not, at that 
 period, like a troop of tigers, recompensed him with 
 the rights of a French citizen, and the national In- 
 stitution named him, one of its members.
 
 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 11 
 
 But in how short a time his hopes, respecting the 
 French Revolution, were fated to be disappointed! How 
 deeply the horrors of civil war afflictet him ! What 
 were his emotions, on hearing of those narratives with 
 which the journals were filled! When he learned that, the 
 unhappy King Lewis the Sixteenth had died by the hand 
 of an executioner, his sold was stung with agony. Such 
 was not the true liberty to which the genius of Klop- 
 stock had paid homage. Fired by religious indignation, 
 he committed to the flames a great many poetical effu- 
 sions which he had written , in celebration of the liberties 
 of France, and many severe judgments emanated from 
 his pen. 
 
 While sentiments and hopes, vague as dreams, re- 
 specting the destiny of France, agitated his breast, the 
 solitary Poet sighed for an amiable companion, to soothe 
 the evening of his life, and accompany him to that 
 tomb which had become so dear to him. Madame de 
 Winthem, once, a celebrated songstress, became a favour- 
 ite associate, of Klopstock, since the death of her hus- 
 band, and, in 1791 he was united to that lady, without 
 however, being able to efface from his heart the image 
 of his beloved Meta. Gently and happily, hencefor- 
 ward, glided the current of his noble life; elevated 
 above the cares of the present, he awaited, patiently, 
 and with resignation, the unknown hour which should 
 unite his soul to that of Meta.
 
 12 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 
 
 In the month of May, 1802, when the venerable 
 Poet, who, under the weight of 80 years, was still 
 robust, he went, with one of his friends, the preben- 
 dary Meier, to Ottensen, to be present, according to 
 his custom, at a social meeting of companions who were 
 in the habit of assembling once a month. His road led 
 him near the linden-tree, planted on Meta's tomb. With 
 a look of profound gravity, the noble old man turned 
 his eye on the tree, magnificently clothed with the 
 luxuriant verdure of spring, and he appeared to have 
 a presentiment, that linden-tree would in a short time, 
 o'crshadow his remains, as well as Meta's; how soon 
 that presentiment was destined to be fulfilled! 
 
 After having remained half an hour with his friends, 
 he was seized with an attack of apoplexy, and con- 
 veyed to his residence. After much suffering, he gra- 
 dually recovered, and lived, during the joyous days 
 of the autumn of that year, while his family still enter- 
 tained hopes that his valuable life might, yet, be pro- 
 longed. But, alas! it was thy last year on earth, thou 
 venerable Poet! Thy foot, every moment, Vlrew nearer 
 to the tomb; the death of the just awaited thee; that 
 death whose ideal thou hadst, so often sung! 
 
 During the winter, he was attacked with an indis- 
 position which produced severe corporeal anguish, and 
 it was evident that Klopstock was rapidly approaching
 
 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK 1 .') 
 
 the termination of his earthly career which had been 
 so nobly run. 
 
 The following were his last words, which he pro- 
 nounced, in a distinct tone, while his eye was illumed 
 with an expression of benignant joy: „A mother may 
 forget her sucking child, but I will never forget thee; 
 behold! with my hand, have I written it. Yes, we are 
 all marked by the hand of God!" - Bis eye was 
 gently closed in sleep, and on earth, the Poet awoke, 
 no more. Klopstock expired March the 14th, 1803. 
 
 Klopstock's principal Works are: 
 
 the death of adam, a tragedy, in three acls. 17.">7. 
 
 SOLOMON. 1764. 
 
 the battle of Hermann, a dramatic composition. 1709. 
 
 david, a tragedy. 1 772. 
 
 hekmann and thk pkixces, a heroic poem. 1784. 
 
 the DEATH OF HERMANN, a heroic poem. 1787. 
 
 THE MESSIAH. This in justly considered to be Klopstock's masterpiece.
 
 14 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 
 
 TO EBERT. 
 
 (Ebert was a poet, held in great repute, in the time of Klopstock; 
 he owes his fame, principally, to having translated into German, ,,\oung's 
 Night Thoughts." Few works have had more success, in Germany, 
 than this, 
 
 The presentiment which forms the subject of the following poem, 
 was fulfilled, in an extraordinary manner, for Klopstock not only outlived 
 all the friends to whom he made allusion, but he survived Ebert, to 
 wUom the poem was addressed.) 
 
 Ebert! thoughts melancholy chill my soul, 
 And call me far from pleasure's sparkling bowl ! 
 Thou vivifying juice that used to fire 
 My song! — no joyous theme dost thou inspire! 
 To weep, in solitude, must I depart; 
 Tears! — ye may soothe the anguish of my heart; 
 Wisely, by Heaven, were balmy tears bestowed, 
 As woe's companions, on life's tortuous road: 
 Unblest by these companions, could mankind 
 Support those ills, by Destiny, assigned? 
 Flow! — flow, ye tears! — The grief that I sustain 
 Corrodes my breast, and vibrates in each vein. —
 
 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 15 
 
 Ebert! — bethink thee — when the sacred tomb 
 lias veiled our friends in Death's eternal gloom, 
 Yet, we survive, -- dead all we loved below! — 
 Does not that thought, oh Ebert! — crush thee now? 
 That vacuum, as thy haggard eye surveys, 
 Say I — turns it not aside, with soul-less gaze? — 
 
 Ah! thus I trembled, darkness veil'd mine eye, 
 
 When, penetrating dread futurity, 
 
 The harrowing thought, rirst, germed within my soul, 
 
 And, o'er me, thunderbolts appeared to roll! 
 
 As when a wanderer, long condemned to roam, 
 Hastes towards his fatherland, and cherished home, 
 When, barely, on his palpitating breast, 
 His daughter, son, and faithful wife are pressed, 
 Thou, — Thunder, strikest him! — He senseless lies, 
 And, ere he gives a benediction — dies, 
 While thou — who hast the tie domestic riven, 
 Dost bend thy way, triumphantly, towards Heaven! 
 
 I thus stand paralysed: — before mine eye 
 Extends a sombre, vapourous drapery; 
 I fain Avould onward move — I strive, in vain, 
 My knees, no more, my trembling form sustain, 
 Amid the solitary hours of night, 
 The shades of friends, departed, greet my sight, 
 And, 'mid night's silently mysterious gloom, 
 I view Immortals, rising from the tomb!
 
 1 G FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 
 
 Ah! — when thine eye, my gentle Gieseke! 
 No longer smiles — no longer cheereth me; 
 When noble Radikin resigns his breath, 
 And, far from Cramer, sleeps the sleep of death; 
 When Gartner dies; — when Rabner lives no more, 
 To speak of Socrates' immortal lore; 
 When mute the lyre, when silent is the tongue 
 Of Gellert, the harmonious son of song; 
 When liberal, social Rothe, now, our own, 
 Seeks Joy's companions, on realms unknown; 
 When Schlegel, from long exile, far away, 
 A welcome letter shall, no more, convey; 
 When, clasped in the embrace of Schmidt, mine eye 
 O'erflows, no more, with tears of sympathy; 
 When Hagedom, in death, sleeps tranquilly, 
 Oh, my beloved Ebert! — what are we? — 
 We — doomed to bear terrestrial sorrows here, 
 Surviving, all, we justly held, most dear! 
 
 Oh thought ! why urge me thus ? A time will come, 
 When thou, or I must slumber in the tomb. 
 If I, that isolated being prove, 
 And, should the gentle object of my love, 
 Who still will love me, on a distant shore, — 
 If she, beloved Ebert! be no more, 
 And I remain, a solitary one, 
 To mourn, and wander, on the earth, alone: —
 
 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 1 7 
 
 Oh, thou eternal spirit! — formed to feel 
 
 The testacies that friendship's joys reveal; 
 
 Those days of vacuum, how wilt thou sustain, 
 
 While still affection chafes each mortal vein ? 
 
 To thee, o'erwhelmed by Death's relentless blow, 
 
 Say ! — will those days appear long nights of woe, 
 
 To melancholy, troubled dreams assigned? — 
 
 My Soul! — to torpor, wilt thou be resigned? — 
 
 Eternal spirit, pierced by sorrow's steel! 
 
 Thou mayst awake, thy misery to feel. 
 
 Ah! — when thou dost awaken, — from the tomb, 
 
 To thee, invoke one shade beloved, to come! 
 
 Ye tombs of friends revei-ed who slumber! — why, 
 By distance separated, do ye lie? 
 Oh, wherefore not in flowery vales allied? 
 In fragrant bowers, why rest not, side by side? — 
 Conduct the dying man ! With trembling knee , 
 I'll wander to each grave: a cypress -tree, 
 Affection's offering, for years to come, 
 I'll plant, at each beloved one's sacred tomb, 
 Not yet to give a shadow, they will be 
 My pledge of love to their posterity. — 
 'Neath midnight zephyrs, as their branches bend, 
 Shall I behold celestial forms descend, 
 Then heavenward will I raise my trembling eye, 
 O'erflowing with affection's tears — and die! — 
 
 2
 
 18 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 
 
 Oh, hasten, and inter the dead beside 
 That sacred tomb, by which he wept, and died! 
 Conniption! — I, mortality resign; 
 Myself, and all my bitter tears are thine! — 
 
 Forbear thou sombre Thought! — Forbear to roll, 
 As thunderbolts, thy terrors o'er my soul! — 
 Thy terrors, fearful as eternity, 
 Or, as the final judgment — hide from me! 
 My Spirit! — thou art silent in my breast. 
 Oh, Thought! — here, let thy drooping pinion rest!
 
 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 19 
 
 TO FANNY. 
 
 My Fanny! when, in death, I calmly sleep, 
 
 When pulverized this mortal form shall be, 
 
 And when this wearied eye shall cease to weep 
 O'er my lone, inauspicious destiny, 
 
 When it arrests at thee — Futurity! 
 
 When fame, the fruit of many a youthful tear, 
 And mine enthusiastic zeal for thee, 
 
 Messiah! — theme unto my soul most dear, 
 
 When, to oblivion, Fate that fame shall doom, 
 When 'tis remembered, but, by those above, 
 
 And when, in the inexorable tomb 
 
 Thou slumberest Fanny — object of my love, 
 
 When smiles, no more, thine eye's benignant ray, 
 When Death obscures its intellectual beam, 
 
 When thine alluring virtues fade away 
 
 From memory, as a fascinating dream, —
 
 20 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 
 
 Virtues, worthier of fame, than deathless song; — 
 If one, more blest than I, thy love now claim, 
 
 Fanny! — to me may this proud thought belong, 
 
 Happier was he than I, yet, not of nobler name! — 
 
 For thee, a resurrection -day will come! 
 
 The resurrection - day awaiteth me; 
 Then no fierce storm of fate — no adverse doom, 
 
 Oh Nature! — severs minds, allied by thee! 
 
 In God's just balance, in another sphere, 
 
 Will Virtue, and terrestrial Bliss be found; 
 
 That which discordantly vibrated here, 
 
 Will echo there, with Heaven's harmonious sound. 
 
 When thou awakenest, in youthful bloom, 
 
 I'll haste to greet thee, in felicity; 
 I'll tarry not until a seraph come, 
 
 To lead me, oh, Immortal, unto thee! 
 
 Thy brother, to my bosom will be pressed, 
 
 My new-born joy will rapturous tears proclaim, 
 
 And, while of bliss celestial possessed, 
 
 Thee I'll embrace, and Fanny will I name! 
 
 To us will immortality belong! 
 
 Eternity! — thy mystic joys reveal; 
 Joys, inexpressible in minstrel's song, — 
 
 Unspeakable as griefs that now I feel. —
 
 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 21 
 
 Oh, Life, haste on! — Yet, doubtless comes the day, 
 That calls us to the peaceful cypress-grove! 
 
 Till then, — hours, veiled and sombre — glide away, 
 Sacred to melancholy thoughts, and love!
 
 22 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 
 
 HERMANN AND THUSNELDA. 
 
 (Hermann «ras a German warrior, highly celebrated for his bravery, 
 and distinguished himself by his victories over the Romans , in the 
 reign of Augustus. Hermann was slain in battle. Thusnelda was taken 
 prisoner by the Romans, and died at Rome.) 
 
 With vesture soiled by dust, and Roman gore, 
 He cometh from the field of Victory! 
 
 So captivating Hermann ne'er, before, 
 Seemed , in Thusnelda's eye ! 
 
 Ungird thy sword ! My heart with transport glows ! 
 
 Give me the Eagle! Breathe! Chase care away! 
 Encircled by mine arms, enjoy repose, 
 After the desperate fray! 
 
 Here rest, and let me wipe thy feverish brow, 
 
 And thy flushed cheek, o'erspread by crimson gore! 
 
 My Hermann! as Thusnelda loves thee, now, 
 She never loved before!
 
 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 23 
 
 Thou Vt dearer far than when the forest spread 
 
 Those shades where, first, I was embraced by thee, 
 
 As Bride! Then saw I, hovering o'er thy head, 
 That Crown of Immortality 
 
 Which now is thine! To distant lands pi*oclaim: 
 Augustus and his Gods quaff nectar now, 
 
 In fear! Immortalized art thou, by Fame, 
 Hermann, deathless art thou! — 
 
 „Why decorate my hair? Before us, dead, 
 
 There lies my Sire! If, to the battle-plain, 
 
 The proud x\ugustus had his army led, 
 
 Far more ensanguined had he lain ! a — 
 
 Oh, let me deck thy brow! Each glossy tress, 
 
 Beneath thy crown, in clustering waves, shall flow. 
 
 Siegmar is with the Gods! Thy tears suppress, 
 My Hermann! Follow him, and banish woe!
 
 24 FREDERICK GODFREY KLOPSTOCK. 
 
 THE ROSY BAND. 
 
 In spring I found her, as she lay, 
 Within a shady bower reclined, 
 And rosy bands I round her twined. 
 
 I stood and gazed. Deep in my heart 
 I felt convinced, yet, knew not why, 
 One band allied our destiny, 
 
 I shook the fragrant rosy band, 
 And, as I gently whispering spoke, 
 The beauteous Slumberer awoke. 
 
 She gazed on me: that glance revealed,. 
 Her destiny and mine were one, 
 And bliss Elysian was our own !
 
 J. G. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 ►Schiller, the most celebrated of the German poets, 
 was born the 11th of November 1759 at Marbach, near 
 Ludwigsburg, in Wiirtemberg. His father, John Caspar 
 Schiller, was of humble extraction, the son of a baker, 
 who held the office of bailiff, in the village of Bitten- 
 feld. Caspar Schiller was a man of adventurous and 
 romantic disposition, exemplary in manners, warmly 
 attached to his family, of excellent abilities, and pos- 
 sessed of a strong and fervent sense of religion. He 
 had held the rank of surgeon, in a Bavarian regiment. 
 
 In 1749 he married Elizabeth Dorothea Kodweiss, 
 a respectable young woman of his own grade in life, 
 though it has been asserted, by very good authority, 
 that her more distant descent could be traced to the 
 noble House of Kottwitz. Caspar Schiller had four 
 children: Elizabeth, bom 1757; John Christopher Fre- 
 derick, born 1759; Dorothea Louisa, born 1761, and 
 Nannette, born 1765.
 
 26 J- C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 Shortly after his marriage, Caspar Schiller resigned 
 the medical profession; but at the breaking out of the 
 Seven years' War, in 1757, he entered the Wiirtem- 
 berg army, as ensign and adjutant, When Frederick 
 Schiller was six years of age, in 1765, his father, 
 then risen to the rank of captain, was sent to Lorch, 
 as recruiting officer. 
 
 Schiller received the first rudiments of his education, 
 under the direction of his excellent mother who con- 
 tinually exercised the greatest influence over the mind, 
 and disposition of her son. He committed to memory, 
 at a very tender age, the pious and sublime inspira- 
 tions of Luther, Paul Gerhard, Klopstock, Gellert &c. 
 How many a man of genius has been indebted for his 
 future celebrity, to the early training of an enlightened 
 and virtuous mother! 
 
 At Lorch, in the paternal home, Schiller first pur- 
 sued a regular course of studies, under the superinten- 
 dence of the Reverend P. Moser, Clergyman of the 
 parish. In „The Robbers 1 ', he afterwards immortalized 
 the virtues of his preceptor. From this gentleman 
 Schiller received preliminary instructions in Greek, and 
 Latin. The future Poet took great pleasure in lingering 
 amid the antique, sombre, and melancholy vaults of 
 the church, or by the graves of the illustrious Counts 
 of Hohenstaufen. These religious and historical im-
 
 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 27 
 
 pressions, produced on the soul of the child, probably, 
 fostered that magical talent for Tragedy which genius 
 had already implanted in his heart. 
 
 Charles, Grand Duke of Wiirtemberg, in 1768 
 removed Schiller's father to Ludwigsburg; here the son 
 was entered at the public School, established in that 
 place, and as he had an ardent inclination to pursue 
 the clerical profession, in addition to Latin, he studied 
 the Greek, and Hebrew languages. At this period, for 
 the first time, he beheld a theatre, the splendour of 
 which harmonized with the luxurious taste of the Grand 
 Duke. It is said that, the effect which this imposing 
 spectacle had on the mind of the youth, was so power- 
 ful, that all his juvenile sports were tinctured by this 
 new world of imagery, and even until his fourteenth 
 year, he amused himself by representing dramatical 
 scenes, with images, formed of paper. 
 
 The father of Schiller had been promoted, by the 
 Grand Duke, to the office of Inspector and Layer-out 
 of the grounds of >} Solitude u , one of his country resi- 
 dences, and was subsequently raised to the rank of 
 Major. His son was placed, as boarder, in the house 
 of the severe and pedantic Dr. .Jahn who had, hitherto 
 been his instructor at the Latin school, and whose 
 violent and rigid dispotion inspired a timidity in tin' 
 character of Schiller.
 
 28 J- C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 In 1772 he had finished his studies at this school, 
 and, by the desire of the Grand Duke who had pro- 
 mised his parents a more advantageous Establishment 
 for their Frederick, than he could possibly obtain 
 by the ecclesiastical profession , he was sent to the 
 Military seminary at Solitude , established by the 
 Duke a short time previously, where, the year follow- 
 ing, he commenced the study of Jurisprudence. How- 
 ever, as, at the end of 1772, the academy was trans- 
 ferred to Stuttgart, he renounced Jurisprudence, and, 
 by the advice of the Grand Duke and his father, he 
 devoted himself to the science of Medicine. Nevertheless, 
 a passion for poetry took possession of his mind, irre- 
 sistibly, and he profited by each free moment, to cul- 
 tivate his taste for poetry, literature, and history. 
 Besides Klopstock, his favourite authors were Goethe, 
 Gerstenberg, Haller, Lessing, and Wieland. Shakespeare, 
 and o^her works which were not sanctioned by the 
 rules of the Institution, were frequently taken from his 
 possession, by the severe and methodical inspector. 
 Subordination was the fundamental law of this cele- 
 brated Establishment; the cane, the sword, and the drum 
 were the only external stimulants employed in the routine 
 of studies. Already in 1774 Schiller had essayed his 
 powers in several dramatic works ; „ The Student of 
 Nassau", and „Cosmus of Medici" ; these and other com-
 
 I. C. F. von SCHILLER. 29 
 
 positions, having been, at a later period, cast aside by 
 him, are now unknown. The sketch, and the com- 
 pletion o{ „The Robbers" occupied him from 1778 till 1780, 
 the year that he quitted the Academy. This work he 
 has himself named , a monstrous production; but, it may 
 be pleaded in excuse that, the residence of the author 
 at the Military Establishment, and the monotonous con- 
 straint exercised there, hindered him from being ac- 
 quainted with the world, and mankind. 
 
 In the presence of the Grand Duke, Schiller ob- 
 tained highly flattering testimonials of approbation for 
 a thesis, in Latin, on the following subject: „What 
 affinity exists between animal, and intellectual na- 
 ture?" — In consequence of his successful treatment of 
 this subject, he obtained his diploma, as physician, and 
 as such, was attached to a grenadier regiment, at 
 Stuttgart; at this period he had barely reached the 
 twenty second year of his age. 
 
 The 13 th of January 1782, the day appointed for 
 the representation of his „Robbers", which had already 
 been published in 1781, Schiller, instigated by an 
 uncontrolable desire to witness the performance, quitted 
 his residence, without the permission of his superior 
 officer, who had previously refused his consent, and 
 the youthful Poet repaired to Mannheim. In an obscure 
 corner of the crowded theatre, the author beheld the
 
 30 J- C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 living embodiment of his own thoughts, and passions. 
 He saw himself raised at once into that mighty power — 
 the mover of the hearts of men. He returned to Stuttgart, 
 confirmed, for life, in the vocation his genius had adopted. 
 
 This visit to Mannheim remained happily undis- 
 covered, however, it was attended with unfortunate 
 results. In the third act of „The Robbers' 1 , is the fol- 
 lowing expression: „The canton of the Grisons is the 
 Athens of modern Swindlers." The objects of Schiller's 
 satyre published a complaint, in the „Hamburgh Cor- 
 respondent", and, by a noted Grrison, named Walter, 
 who bore Schiller personal enmity, the affair was laid 
 before the Grand Duke, who forbade Schiller, under the 
 penalty of imprisonment in a fortress, to publish any 
 works, not medical. A command so despotic, it wgs 
 impossible for a man of Schiller's genius to obey, for 
 already vast designs were opening to his intellectual 
 ambition. May the 25th, 1782, he again went, without 
 permission, to Mannheim, to witness the second repre- 
 sentation of the far-famed „Robbers u , and, at his return, 
 was put under fourteen days' arrest. A succession of 
 circumstances, galling to his independent spirit, caused 
 him to form the resolution, to fly from Stuttgart, and 
 cast himself on the protection of the world. 
 
 September the 18th, 1782, accompanied by a young 
 friend, a musician, named Streicher, he quitted Stutt-
 
 J. C. F. von SC'HIT.LER. 31 
 
 gart, and arrived, as a fugitive, at Mannheim, and 
 fearing lest he should be arrested, and delivered to 
 In- Sovereign, after having remained several clays at 
 Mannheim, he travelled with his friend through Darm- 
 stadt, Frankfurt, Mayence, Nierstein, and Oggersheim; 
 here, under the assumed name of Dr. Ritter, he re- 
 mained a considerate time, and arranged „F/'esco" for 
 representation at the Mannheim theatre, and laid the 
 plan of „ Louisa Miller-', which he afterwards entitled 
 „ Cabal and -Love. " The Baron von Dalberg, super- 
 intendent of the theatre of the court of Mannheim, 
 found alas ! that „ Ficsco " could not be represented, 
 notwithstanding the intervention of Iffland, and thus 
 the Poet, in his indigence, found himself obliged to 
 sell his manuscript for a triflng sum, in order to dis- 
 charge his debts, and enable him to travel to Bauer- 
 bach, the residence of the Baroness von "Wolzogen, 
 whose sons had been educated at Stuttgart, contem- 
 poraneously with Schiller; the eldest, William, was 
 afterwards among his most intimate friends; their mother, 
 a widow, in rather straitened circumstances, had known, 
 and admired the Poet, when at Stuttgart, and offered 
 him an asylum at her house, and there Schiller resolved 
 to take refuge. 
 
 Under the ruins of the ancient castle of Henneberg 
 he finished his „ Louisa Miller ", and laid the plan of
 
 32 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 „Don Carlos 11 . Here he unexpectedly received an in- 
 vitation from the Baron von Dalberg who made an 
 apology for his former conduct, and earnestly prayed 
 him to repair to Mannheim. The young Poet's works 
 were produced on the stage; — the object of an am- 
 bition, modest as to temporal means, vast as to in- 
 tellectual empire, was attained. He Was appointed, 
 with a fixed, though very limited income, Poet to the 
 theatre at Mannheim, then, the first in Germany. On the 
 evening of the 22nd July, 1783, he arrived at the town 
 in which the foundation of his dramatic glory had been 
 laid. January the 17 th 1784 his „Fiesco" was represented 
 at the theatre , and the 9 th of March following, „Louisa 
 Miller". These pieces augmented his reputation, although 
 they were inferior to the first wild and romantic effu- 
 sions of his youth , and exhibited traces of dependence 
 on several schools of art. Since the beginning of Ja- 
 nuary, he had been named member of the ,.German 
 Literary Society", established at Mannheim, and in Fe- 
 bruary, the choice was confirmed. In March, 1785 he 
 undertook a periodical named the „ Rhenish Thalia". 
 from which he hoped to reap independence. In the 
 announcement of this work, he speaks thus, of his own 
 views and hopes : „I write, as a Citizen of the World 
 who serves no Prince. Early in life I quitted my 
 father-land, exchanging it for the great world, that I
 
 .1. 0. )'■ ran 8GHILLEE. 
 
 only beheld at a distance, and through a glass. All 
 my former connexions are dissolved. The Public has 
 
 become my all, my study, my sovereign, and my con- 
 fidant. To the Public alone, henceforth, I belong. Be- 
 fore this tribunal, and this tribunal only, T take my 
 Stand. Something of greatness hovers over me, for 1 
 resolve to be subject to no restraint, but the sentence 
 of the world, and to appeal to no throne but the soul 
 of Man ! « 
 
 At this epoch he had the honour of being presented 
 to the Duke Charles Augustus of Saxe Weimar, the 
 young and liberal friend of poetry and of poets, who 
 was, at this time, on a visit at the court of the Land- 
 grave of Darmstadt, and the Duke graciously permitted 
 Schiller to read the first act of „Don Carlos' 1 in the 
 august family - circle of the Landgrave. The Duke con- 
 ferred on Schiller the dignity of Counsellor of the Duchy 
 of Saxe Weimar, a nominal rank, but one, anxiously 
 sought after by Germans. His relations with the Mann- 
 heim Theatre relaxed more and more, and the follow- 
 ing spring, the Poet tamed his back on a city, the 
 superintendent of the theatre of which, had not only railed 
 to fulfil his engagements, but had, in many respects, 
 deceived him. One individual alone, Margareta Schwan, 
 for whom he entertained a devoted affection, caused 
 liim to feel many a bitter pang for the resolution he
 
 34 J- C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 had taken. This is' the lady whom, it is said, he 
 celebrated, under the name of Laura, others affirm that 
 his Laura was the widow of a captain; this object of 
 his devotion was neither young nor pretty, but was 
 attractive, good-humoured, and possessed of agreeable 
 manners. 
 
 In the month of April Schiller went to Leipsic, to 
 visit Korner the father of the poet who wrote the 
 „Lyre and the Sword", and shortly after, wrote to the 
 father of Margareta Schwau, to demand his daughter's 
 hand in marriage, but that gentleman, perhaps con- 
 sidering Schiller's position not sufficiently brilliant, de- 
 clined granting the Poet's request. To dissipate his 
 mind by change of scene, Schiller yielded to the in- 
 vitation of some friends at Dresden, and, in the end 
 of the summer, he repaired to that city, and was re- 
 ceived, as an inmate, in the house of Korner, lately 
 appointed Counsellor of Appeals, and recently married 
 to a young lady, named Minna Stock. The renewal 
 of ancient friendships had a benign influence on the 
 intellectual and sensitive mind of Schiller. Among the 
 numerous persons with whom he was acquainted, may 
 be named as esteemed friends, Weisse, the editor of 
 the „Childrens' Friend", Oeser, the intimate friend, of 
 Goethe, Hiller, composer of music, the professor Huber, 
 poet of the theatre, and the bookseller Goschen, whose
 
 J. C. P. von SCHII.I.KH. 35 
 
 country- villa, .situated in tlie rural and solitary Grholis, 
 he inhabited during several of the summer months, and 
 there, among other poems, he composed the „8ong to 
 Joy." The latter part of the summer of 1735, Schiller 
 accompanied his friend KiJrner, to Dresden. On the 
 borders of the Elbe, near Loeschwitz, in a beautiful 
 valley, surrounded by vineyards, Korner possessed a 
 charming country-villa ; in this residence Schiller lived, 
 in the family- circle of his friend. A pleasant summer- 
 house was assigned to him, situated in the garden, and 
 here he worked at ,,/Jon Carlos", the first fruits of a 
 mature knowledge of the world, and of a practical 
 study of the poetic art; he gave a perfectly new form 
 to that part of the drama which was already composed. 
 
 The plan of the comedy entitled „The Misanthrope", 
 which has remained of fragment; the „ History of tin- 
 Revolt of the Netherlands", undertaken in consequence 
 of studies on the character of Philip the Second; a 
 volume entitled, „ Modern Revolutions and Conspiracies"; 
 the plan of a romance named the „ Ghost Seer"; a 
 large portion of his Lyrical Poems, and other works, 
 were executed, and collected at Dresden. 
 
 In the salon of the celebrated actress Sophia Al- 
 brecht, Schiller was introduced to a young lady named 
 Julia, the daughter of a widow whose husband had 
 been an officer in the army, lie afterwards met the
 
 36 .1. G. V. vou SCHILLER. 
 
 fair Julia at the „ Reduute " , and was still more for- 
 cibly attracted by her charms. The mother who is 
 reported to have been a woman of abandoned character, 
 saw, in the admiration of so distinguished a Poet, .the 
 means of widening Julia's already lucrative notoriety. 
 Schiller was accordingly lured into an intimacy, which 
 occasioned the most serious anxiety to his friends, who 
 advised him to quit Dresden for some time. Indeed 
 he seems to have become aware of the artifice practised 
 upon him, and after many a struggle between reason 
 and passion, he i*esolved to quit the object of his in- 
 fatuation. 
 
 In 1787 Schiller went to Weimar, where Wieland 
 received him with enthusiasm; he also made the ac- 
 quaintance of Herder, Einsiedel, Bottiger and many 
 other men of eminence. Some time later, at Rudolstadt, 
 he was introduced to Goethe who was returning from 
 an excursion in Italy. In the mean time „Do7i Carlos" 
 was published at Leipzic, in 1787, and was repre- 
 sented at Mannheim. The „Gods of Gi^eece", „The 
 Artists", and other poems appeared in the „ German 
 Mercury". 
 
 In May 1788 Schiller went to reside at Volkstadt, 
 near Rudolstadt, in the neighbourhood of some highly 
 esteemed friends to whom he had been introduced by 
 William von Wolzogen. Among these was a Madame
 
 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 37 
 
 von Lengefeld, whose daughter Charlotte, then in her 
 twenty-first year, had made an indelible impression on 
 the heart of Schiller. 
 
 Among many of his plans for the future, that of 
 obtaining a position, as Professor of History , was des- 
 tined soon to be accomplished. The departure of 
 Eichhorn , from the University of Jena to that of GrSt- 
 tingen, still farther accelerated the possibility of this 
 affair. In the month of April, 1789, Schiller obtained 
 his diploma as Dr. of Philosophy at Jena, where he 
 soon reckoned, among his friends, von Humboldt, 
 Paulus, Schiitz, Hufeland, and Reinhold. Through the 
 patronage of protectors, enjoying extensive influence, 
 in the month of May, he was summoned to take the 
 chair of Historical Professor at the University of Jena. 
 He commenced, under the most brilliant auspices, his 
 important functions; the Duke of Gotha granted him 
 a salary, and, the beginning of the following year, 
 conferred on him the title of Counsellor of the Court, 
 (Hofrath). 
 
 The 20th February, 1790, at the church of Weni- 
 genjena, was solemnized the marriage of F. Schiller, and 
 Charlotte von Lengefeld. With the exception of the 
 narrowness of pecuniary circumstances, perhaps no mar- 
 riage was ever formed, under happier omens. The age 
 of the parties was that, in which affection is less r<>
 
 38 J- C- F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 mantic, but more durable. Schiller was about thirty 
 one, and the object of his choice, nearly four-and-twenty 
 years of age. The characters of bride , and bridegroom 
 were in perfect harmony, and Schiller was now ripely 
 formed for that home, and those domestic pleasures for 
 which he so long had sighed. With a depth of feeling, 
 natural to those who love solitude, which is the nurse 
 of intellectual occupations, he now combined that know- 
 ledge which is the fruit of intercourse with the world. 
 All misanthropic predelictions were banished from his 
 mind which now appeared to expand, as in a new and 
 joyous state of existence. 
 
 While he was absorbed, more and more, in the 
 depths of the philosophy of Kant, and at that period 
 when, in 1790 he was occupied in publishing his 
 ^Historical Memoirs' 1 , and the ^History of the thirty years' 
 War", a work in which he was, comparatively, forced 
 by necessity, to familiarize himself with all the cir- 
 cumstances and details of Wallenstcin's life, he was 
 attacked by a severe disorder of the chest , from which, 
 though he recovered slowly, the seeds of consumption 
 remained behind. He was obliged, during some time, 
 to abandon his functions and literary occupations, in 
 order to recruit his health which had been impaired by 
 his frequent efforts, and by labour, too fatiguing. A 
 report of Schiller's death had even been promulgated,
 
 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 39 
 
 and hail reached the court of Denmark, at a timu when 
 a noble and princely circle of friends were on the point 
 of repairing to Hellebeck, near Copenhagen, in order, 
 amid the enchanting scenery there, to hold a festival 
 in his honor, and sing, in chorus, his „Hymn to Joy 1 ^ 
 but this melancholy intelligence gave to the assemblage 
 the air of a funereal solemnity. 
 
 Through the intermediation of the Danish Poet, 
 Baggesen, the Count Ernest von Sclihnmelmann, and 
 the Prince and Princess von Holstein Augustenburg, 
 the enthusiastic admirers of Schiller's genius , he ob- 
 tained, from the King of Denmark, an annual pension 
 of a thousand crowns for three years; an act of mu- 
 nificence that was the more acceptable, as his physi- 
 cians urged the necessity of perfect repose. 
 
 After his recovery, he commenced his occupations 
 with new vigour, and with too much enthusiasm. In 
 the summer of 1793, Schiller went to visil the friends 
 of his youth, in Suabia, where he passed several months, 
 partly in Heilbronn, and partly in Ludwigsburg, and 
 he returned, joyously, to Jena, after having, at Stutt- 
 gart, formed the plan of a periodical entitled „Die 
 Horen" ; in consequence of this, he cemented a still 
 more intimate friendship with Goethe who contributed 
 to the work, of which the first number was issued in 
 January, 17 '.».'>, and was continued till the year 1807;
 
 40 J- C. P. von SCHILLER. 
 
 in September, the same year, appeared the „Musm- 
 almanach"; the collection, from the year 1797 to 1801, 
 Was published by Cotta. In 17% the „Xenien" were 
 published. While thus actively occupied, he had the 
 misfortune to lose his youngest sister, Nannette, a beau- 
 tiful and interesting girl, and shortly after, his father 
 died, from the effects of a lingering malady. He felt, 
 poignantly, these bereavements, yet he bore them as a 
 philosopher, and a christian. 
 
 In 1797 appeared his „ Ballads and Romances", a 
 production worthy of the deepest admiration, not only 
 for the varied subjects the work contains, but for the 
 profound ideas of those subjects. At "Weimar, October 
 19th, 1798, the „Camp of Wallenstein" was represented; 
 January 30th, 1799, the „Picolomini"; and, in April 
 the „ Death of Wallenstein". This tragedy is equally 
 distinguished by the noble simplicity of language, as 
 by the fidelity of the characters therein contained; at 
 this period also he published his celebrated „Lay of the 
 Bell." 
 
 After the consultation of his physicians, who were 
 of opinion that the mountain-air of Jena was injurious 
 to his health, he went to inhabit Weimar, in the autumn 
 of 1799. By the Parisian Convention, he was honored 
 by the rights of a French citizen, and, in 1802, through 
 the unsolicited influence of the Duke of Weimar, he
 
 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 41 
 
 received, from the Emperor Leopold of Austria, a patent 
 of nobility. 
 
 At Weimar, Schiller created the chefs-d'oeuvres ■>! 
 the latter period of his existence, the first period re- 
 presents him to the world, as a man of exalted genius, 
 and a poet, the second period, as a poet, and historian, 
 as may be observed in his later works, for example; 
 „Mary Stuart", represented in July, 1800; and the 
 ,J£aid of Orleans''; introduced on the stage at Leipsic, 
 in 1801, in the absence of the Poet: in these pieces 
 the imagination of Schiller takes a flight, more romantic 
 and free. „WMam Tell", a master-piece of historical 
 poetry, which finished his dramatic career, was repre- 
 sented in March, 1804, and a short time later, in the 
 presence of the Poet, at Berlin. 
 
 Fragments alone remain of his last productions, 
 ^Demetrius" and „Warbeck u . In his translations, and 
 imitations, he has exhibited extraordinary talent, as may 
 be verified in a piece composed in the antique style, 
 entitled, „The Bride of Messina", which was represented 
 in July, 1803, at Lauehstadt, and Schiller has been 
 yet more successful in those works he has borrowed 
 from the Italian, French, nnd English literature, in order 
 to transplant them on the German soil. „Macbeth", as 
 it has been translated in German, by Schiller, is far 
 superior to the version of Augustus William Schlegel,
 
 42 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 which has been so highly extolled by critics possessed 
 of little taste; Schiller has translated Shakespeare, like 
 a man of genius; Schlegel, like a man of talent. One 
 of his last translations was Racine's „ Phadre ", and one 
 of his latest lyrical compositions, that simple, yet beau- 
 tiful legend, the „Hunter of the Alps 1 '. 
 
 Schiller had returned, in a suffering condition, from 
 Jena, whither, in July, 1804, he had repaired, by the 
 solicitation of his wife, in order to consult his ancient 
 family physician. He seemed progressively, to gain 
 strength, and his family and friends entertained the 
 most sanguine hopes of his recovery. 
 
 The career of this immortal Poet was drawing near 
 to a close. Schiller was attacked with his last illness, 
 the 28th of April, 1805. Goethe, who was then 
 recovering from a dangerous malady, had called at 
 Schiller's house, and found him on the point of repair- 
 ing to the theatre. These noble friends parted on the 
 threshold of Schiller's door. At the close of the per- 
 formance, he was seized by a feverish attack, and a 
 young friend, named Henry Voss, accompanied him 
 home. 
 
 The following day, alarming symptoms appeared 
 which confined him to his bed, from which he never 
 more arose. His sufferings were very severe, but he 
 bore all with christian resignation. Thoughts of eter-
 
 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 43 
 
 nity seemed constantly to occupy his mind and, even 
 in hi.s sleep, the expressions 'that escaped his lips bore 
 witness of tin- theme whieh occupied his soul. Once, 
 when awakening from a profound slumber, and while 
 a smile illumined his intellectual countenance, he made 
 use of this memorable expression: „Now Life is so 
 clear! So much is made clear and plain!" 
 
 On the morning of the 8 th of May, he awoke com- 
 posedly, and requested to see his youngest child, when 
 his little daughter was brought , he took the infant's 
 hand in his own, and gazed at her, with a look of 
 unutterable affection and sorrow; he wept bitterly, kissed 
 the child with paternal emotion , and requested her to 
 be removed from the chamber. 
 
 Towards evening, his sister-in-law asked him how 
 he felt; he replied: „Better and better; calmer and 
 calmer." He expressed an anxious desire, once more 
 to behold the setting-snn. lie was convoyed to an- 
 other apartment, and he gazed with serenity at the 
 western sky: — this was Schiller'.- farewell look on 
 Nature ! 
 
 On the 9th of May, 1805, the angel of death 
 transported to a land of eternal liberty, that immortal 
 Poet who had ever distinguished himself, so enthusias- 
 tically, in the sacred cause of science, liberty, justice, 
 and religion.
 
 44 .T. C. P. von SCHILLER. 
 
 Schiller was interred on the night of the 13th May, 
 followed hy a cortege of fourteen persons, two of whom 
 were literary men, six artists, and six other individuals 
 of respectable station. The heavens were veiled by 
 heavy clouds, yet, the nightingales warbled melodiously. 
 As the funereal train moved slowly on, the sound of 
 a horse's hoofs was heard, rapidly approaching; a gentle- 
 man, closely enveloped in a travelling-cloak, dismounted, 
 and followed the procession. The rider proved to be 
 William of Wolzogen ; he had heard the fatal intelli- 
 gence, at Naumburg, and hastened to pay his last 
 tribute of respect to the remains of his illustrious friend. 
 A few minutes before Schiller was consigned to the 
 tomb, the wind suddenly dispersed the night -mists, 
 and the moon-beams shone, with unclouded glory, on 
 the coffin of the immortal Poet, and when the melan- 
 choly ceremony was concluded, the Heavens were again 
 o'ershadowed by sombre clouds. 
 
 The relics of Schiller were deposited in an aban- 
 doned vault of the cimetery of St. Jaques, in which 
 were already eleven other coffins, and remained there 
 till the year 1824, the epoch when Lewis the First, 
 King of Bavaria, went to Weimar, where, although he 
 remained but two hours, yet, he was anxious to profit 
 by this short interval, to visit the tomb of Schiller, 
 for whom, from his earliest youth, he had ever enter-
 
 .i. G. r. toii 81 1111,1.1,1: I/. 
 
 taincd the most profound veneration, and he was an en- 
 ■ t i «■ admirer of his works. To obtain his object, 
 he adidressed himself to a chamberlain of tke Grand- 
 dueal- court Eow great was bis astonishment when. 
 on descending to the above mentioned vault, he dis- 
 covered the eoffins, piled, one on the other, and in 
 ruins! Nought indicated the narrow resting-place of" 
 him whom he sought, with the fervent heart of a poet, 
 and of an ardent royal protector. Ee testified mure 
 indignation than surprise, and, from that moment, took 
 the proper measures to procure, from the Grand -ducal 
 Family, at least, a honourable tomb for the noble Poet 
 who had been so unworthily treated by his contempo- 
 raries, by fortune, and by his. country. The King of 
 Bavaria obtained his request: the relic.-? of Schiller were 
 deposited in the vault of the Grand -ducal family, at 
 Weimar. 
 
 Honor to that King who, after having been the mosl 
 liberal protector of all the men of talent ol his time, 
 causes respect to be paid to those remains, once, ani- 
 mated by the divine breath of a (renins whose name 
 will live as long as Germany exists, and who will ever 
 be one of the greatest glories of his countrj ! 
 
 Schiller died in very indigent circumstances, leaving 
 his wife, and three children, two sons and a daughter, 
 in the most profound distress. Henry Voss, son of the
 
 46 J. 0. F. vou SCHILLER. 
 
 celebrated Philologist, and the translator of Homer, pub- 
 lished, three years, ago, in the „ Review of Europe", 
 details, respecting this circumstance, which are sufficient 
 to pierce every feeling heart. Henry Voss, and other 
 friends, gave Madame Schiller the moderate sum of 
 three thalers and a half, to purchase the last habita- 
 tion, — a coffin, for Schiller! Neither the Grand duke 
 of Saxe Weimar, the professed patron of literary men, 
 at that epoch, nor Goethe, the fortune-favoured friend 
 of the deceased, opened their purses, to succour the 
 family, or to testify their respect for the memory of 
 the illustrious Dead. 
 
 Works. 
 
 Schiller's complete works appeared in one volume, at Stuttgart and 
 Tiibingen, in 1S4D. Another edition in 10 volumes was published in 
 1845.
 
 i r v..,. SCHILLER 1 i 
 
 THE MAIDEN FROM AFAR. 
 
 When first the lark's melodious strain 
 
 Has hailed the renovated year, 
 Mid shepherds, on a lonely plain, 
 
 A Nymph mysterious doth appear. 
 
 She is not of the shepherd-race, 
 
 The Maiden's lineage none can tell, 
 
 And ever vanished is her trace, 
 
 Whene'er she gently breathes; ^Farewell"! 
 
 When the Nymph greets the joyous eye, 
 Each heart is vivified, and gay, 
 
 Yet, her mild, sacred dignity 
 
 Doth chase unhallowed thoughts aw.iv 
 
 She brings rich fruit and blooming flowers, 
 Matured beneath more genial skies, 
 
 Where choicer blessings Nature showers, 
 
 And paints each work with lovelier dyea.
 
 48 J- C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 Ripe fruit, and chaplets are bestowed, 
 And all partake her fostering care; 
 
 Gay youth, and age, by winter bowed, 
 
 Reap treasures from the Stranger fair. 
 
 Although she welcomes, to her bowers, 
 
 Each guest who thitherward may rove; 
 
 She gives her most luxuriant flowers 
 Unto Fidelity and Love.
 
 j. C, I iron 8CHTLLER. 49 
 
 THE LAMENT OF CERES. 
 
 (Ceres, Goddess of agriculture, was the daughter of Saturn and Cy- 
 bele. To this Goddess were dedicated many celebrated temples, and death 
 was the punisment awarded to those who disturbed the mysterious rites, 
 therein celebrated. 
 
 Proserpine was the daughter of Jupiter and Ceres. When, in com- 
 pany with Cyane, she was gathering flowers, in a meadow of Sicily, she 
 was forcibly conveyed away. 
 
 Ceres, her mother, traversed the earth, by night, and by day, iu 
 search of her daughter, and, during her melancholy pilgrimage, she gave 
 instructions, in agriculture, to the inhabitants of those countries through 
 which she passed. 
 
 Ceres was informed by Arethusa , that Pluto had carried away her 
 child. She descended to the infernal regions , where she discovered Pro- 
 serpine who refused to return. Finding that her remonstrances were in 
 vain, Ceres appealed to Jupiter, who decided that Proserpine should live 
 six months of the year with Pluto, her husband, and the remaining ail 
 with Ceres.t 
 
 Doth sacred Spring appear again? 
 
 Is earth adorned in youth's array? 
 How verdant hill, and sunny plain, 
 
 And winter's barrier melts away!
 
 50 J- C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 On yonder murmuring river blue, 
 
 Smiles Jupiter, from cloudless skies, 
 Young buds, and flowers, begemmed with dew, 
 
 Are fanned by fragrant zephyrs' sighs. 
 As birds melodiously sing, 
 
 An Oread from the mountain wild, 
 Exclaims; „Thy flowerets welcome spring, 
 
 Yet, where, oh, Ceres, is thy Child?* — 
 
 Alas! how many a wearying day 
 
 I've sought her, on earth's farthest shore! 
 Titan! illumed by thy pure ray, 
 
 I've roamed, yet, vainly I explore, 
 My heart bereaved finds no repose, 
 
 Mine ear, no welcome tidings greet, 
 The sun whose light can all disclose, 
 
 Revealeth not my Child's retreat. 
 Oh Jupiter! — dwells she with thee? 
 
 Stern Pluto's heart doth she enchain? — 
 O'er Orcus, in captivity, 
 
 Hath she been steered to his domain. 
 
 Who, to that melancholy strand, 
 
 Will be my envoy of despair? 
 
 The boat e'er saileth from the land, 
 Yet, Shadows, only enter there.
 
 J. 0. P.|von 6CH1LLER. 61 
 
 Ah ! veiled from Joy's celestial eye, 
 
 Is yonder wild, umbrageous sphere, 
 And o'er Styx' wave, vitalin 
 
 Hath never, yet, presumed to steer! 
 Thither lead countless pathways wild, 
 
 Yet, none conducts to glowing day; 
 The tears of mine afflicted Child, 
 
 Who, to her Mother, will convey"? 
 
 A mother, born of Pyrrha's race, 
 
 When Life's frail taper doth expire, 
 May rush, to meet her child's embrace, 
 
 From the tomb's bright funereal fire! 
 To those around th' Olympian throne, 
 
 Is veiled the melancholy strand : 
 Why do Immortals feel, alone, 
 
 Oh Destiny! thy rigid hand? 
 Chase me to realms , of endless night ! 
 
 Disown a Goddess' rights, in me! 
 From thrones illumed by Heaven's pure light. 
 
 Hath sprung a parent's misery. 
 
 Oh! as a shadow would 1 glide 
 
 To the mysterious domain 
 Of Pluto ! — there his captive Bride, 
 
 In friendless majesty , doth reign !
 
 52 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 My Daughter's eye, bedew'd with tears, 
 
 Now seeks, in vain, Heaven's golden light, 
 Her spirit roves to distant spheres, 
 
 Yet, Ceres never greets her sight. — 
 Till cherished by her Mother's love, — 
 
 Till breast to breast united be, 
 Compassion's influence will move 
 
 Chill Orcus unto sympathy! — 
 
 Hope visionary ! sorrow vain ! 
 
 The sacred chariot of day 
 One changeless course will e'er maintain, 
 
 Thus uniformly Jove doth sway. 
 From yon umbrageous, silent shore, 
 
 Olympian Jove averts his eye; 
 Once doomed Styx' region to explore, 
 
 My Child is lost eternally! — 
 Lost — till Aurora's golden rays 
 
 On the dark wave of Orcus glow, 
 Or Iris joyously displays, 
 
 In Hell, her variegated bow! — 
 
 Hath Ceres no memento cherished, 
 
 The tribute of affection's hand, 
 Her guarantee of love unperished, 
 
 While wanderer on a distant strand? —
 
 J. C. I', vnn SCHILLER. 53 
 
 Do not eternal bonds of love 
 
 A Child's and Mother's heart combine? — 
 Do not the Dead, and Living, prove 
 
 The bliss of sympathy divine? 
 For ever, art thou lost to me? — 
 
 No! — language have th' Immortals given; 
 When intercourse I hold with thee, 
 
 I still shall feel the joys of Heaven! 
 
 When Spring's fair children droop, and die, 
 
 When blighted by keen Boreas' breath, 
 Flowers wither 'neath a frigid sky, 
 
 And trees assume the garb of death; 
 A treasure of Vertumnus' horn, 
 
 His most esteemed, his richest prize, 
 Seeds of luxuriant, golden corn, 
 
 To Styx I then will sacrifice. 
 In earth my offering shall lie, 
 
 Awhile, near Proserpina's heart; 
 My melancholy history 
 
 Of love, and anguish to impart! 
 
 Led by the Hours, in circling dance, 
 
 When Spring leads forth her beauteous train, 
 
 And 'neath Sol's vivifying glance, 
 
 Nature awakes from death again;
 
 54 J- C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 Germs, perished long, to mortal eye, 
 
 Will pierce the torpid breast of earth, 
 And flowerets sweet, of brilliant dye, 
 
 Will spring, luxuriantly, to birth; 
 As heavenward their petals grow, 
 
 The root descends to realms of night, 
 And daily nutriment will flow 
 
 From gloomy Styx, and ether bright. 
 
 From joyous Life, and frigid Death, 
 
 Deriving their vitality, 
 These Envoys fair, with perfumed breath, 
 
 From Styx, will solace bear to me! 
 Though captive now, in labyrinths drear 
 
 Of Pluto's cheerless realm profound, 
 When spring-flowers odorous appear, 
 
 Her voice, in zephyr's tones, will sound, 
 And whisper: „Far from golden day, 
 
 Love still thy daughter's bosom warms, 
 And, in that land where shadows stray, 
 
 A mother's name has deathless charms." 
 
 With rapture shall I welcome you, 
 
 Sweet Children of the youthful year! 
 
 Ye shall inhale nectareous dew, 
 
 When, decked in beauty, you appear!
 
 J. C. F. von SCHILLER 55 
 
 With tints of Iris' heavenly bow, 
 
 My fragrant Offspring I'll adorn; 
 Their colours will surpass the glow 
 
 Of fair Aurora's blush of morn! — 
 When Spring celestial smiles around, 
 
 Each tender breast my joy will feel : 
 And Autumn, with pale chaplet crowned, 
 
 My love, and anguish will reveal.
 
 56 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 THE DANCE. 
 
 „Behold! — yon beings form a graceful chain, 
 
 Their sylph-like footsteps barely touch the ground 
 
 Do shadows flit o'er yonder moon-lit plain? 
 
 Do elves, and fairies dance to music's sound? 
 
 „Like mist that balmy zephyrs waft through air, 
 Or boat that glides across the silvery spray, 
 
 The movements of etherial dancers there, 
 Conform to melody's celestial sway. 
 
 a 
 
 „I see a hardy, joyous pair advance, 
 
 A track is opened mid the circling throng; 
 
 Closed is the path amid th' exciting dance, 
 A magic hand appears to guide them on." 
 
 ,.They vanish mid a complicated band, 
 
 And, in the tangled group, disorder reigns; 
 
 Now clasped — now disunited is each hand; 
 
 Lo ! Order, with new charm, her law maintains,"
 
 .r. 0. F. v.. ,i SCHILLER. 57 
 
 ..No! — an harmonious confusion sways; 
 
 The chain is now dissolved — allied again! 
 Mid ever varying movement, each obeys, 
 
 Instinctively, what Orders laws ordain.* - 
 
 „0h, say! — by what internal impulse move 
 
 Yon sylph-like beings ? — Who their course assigned ? 
 
 All, fired by joy's heart-thrilling feeling, rove, 
 Yet each, unerringly, his place doth find.'* — 
 
 Know thou, that godlike Melody is there; 
 
 Her influence directs the joyous dance, 
 Her rein, as that of Nemesis, severe, 
 
 Restraineth pleasure's rash exuberance. 
 
 By thee, unheeded is Earths harmony, 
 
 Whose song, and music ever vibrate round? 
 
 Are those mysterious tones unheard by thee, — 
 Tones , that in sacred Nature's All resound ? 
 
 Led in th' eternal dance of Harmony, 
 
 In circling mazes, suns, and planets shine. 
 
 In yon gay dance, her influence dost thou see, 
 Yet, in thine actions, scorn her laws divine?
 
 58 J- C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 MYSTERY. 
 
 Her silence hath no whisper broken, 
 
 Too many listeners are nigh; 
 By timid glances have I spoken, 
 
 How eloquent her gentle eye! 
 Welcome, ye calm, sequestered bowers! 
 
 Thou beech, thy foliage extend, 
 And, mid green labyrinths, decked with flowers, 
 
 The lovers, from the world, defend! 
 
 Day's busy and unceasing clamour, 
 
 In distant murmurs, vibrates round; 
 At intervals, the woodman's hammer 
 
 Echoes, with unharmonious sound. 
 How many have received, from Heaven, 
 
 A doom, laborious and severe! 
 Yet, unsought bliss is often given 
 
 To man, from the Olympian sphere.
 
 J. C. F. von SCHILLER 59 
 
 From a cold , heartless world veil ever 
 
 The bliss that faithful love bestows; 
 Unsympathetic minds feel never 
 
 Delight that for another glows. 
 The world forbids that Joy should bless thee, 
 
 Oh, take her captive, as thy prey; 
 In solitude may she caress thee, 
 
 Ere Envy bears the prize away! 
 
 Joy, with a step aerial, walketh, 
 
 She loves night's placid, moon-lit ray, 
 And whereso-e'er the traitor stalketh. 
 
 With fairy step, she glides away. - 
 Flow rapidly, thou guardian river! 
 
 By thee, encircled may we be, 
 And, may thy threatening waves, for ever, 
 
 Preserve the lovers' sanctuary!
 
 60 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 THE FAVOURITES OF THE GODS. 
 
 (The first portion of tins composition was inscribed on Goethe's statue, 
 a* Weimar. 
 
 In this poem, Schiller developes a favourite idea that, whatever is 
 really sublime and beautiful comes, freely, from Heaven, and he vindi- 
 cates the apparent partiality of the Gods, in bestowing on some, genius 
 and beauty, without labour, by demonstrating that, such gifts contribute, 
 in an extraordinary degree , to the delight of those to whom genius, and 
 beauty are denied.) 
 
 Thrice happy is the mortal, doomed to prove, 
 From early infancy, th' Olympians' love; 
 That man on whom hath Venus fondly smiled, 
 And cradled, as a cherished foster-child, 
 Whose lip is touched by Hermes' wand divine, 
 Around whose brow Joves' wreath of power doth twine, 
 And, in whose eye, enkindleth the glow 
 That Phoebus' rays celestial bestow! 
 To him is traced, by Jupiter's decree, 
 A glorious course — a god-like destiny, 
 For lo! before the battle is begun, 
 Victory's triumphant laurels have been won,
 
 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 61 
 
 Long ere experienced in care, and strife, 
 That man has traversed o'er the stage of life, 
 And ere he undertakes an arduous race, 
 With fascinating beauty, smiles the Grace! 
 
 How noble is the man — how truly great, 
 Who, by the wand of Virtue, conquers Fate; 
 Whose soul doth every obstacle defy, — 
 That man creates himself a destiny! 
 Yet, not to courage, Happiness is given, 
 Tis a mysterious boon that flows from Heaven, 
 And that which the Olympians retain, 
 Terrestrial perseverance ne'er may gain. 
 From mean pursuits thy Will may thee defend, 
 The Beauteous, and Sublime, from Heaven descend, 
 And precious as the object of thy love, 
 Are those delights that greet us from above. 
 In Jupiter's and Cupid's wide domain, 
 With what despotic sway doth Favour reign ! 
 
 As man, th' Immortals sympathies reveal, 
 For blooming youth, propensities they feel; 
 Youth, graced with tresses, waving mid the wind, 
 Will favour, with th' Olympians, ever lind. 
 How often, to the blind, have they revealed 
 Deep mysteries, to philosophers, concealed!
 
 62 J- C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 For those of child-like mind their flowerets grow, 
 And, in a simple vase, their treasures flow. 
 How oft they stand, unhoped-for, at our side; 
 How oft they counteract the schemes of pride! 
 With power omnipotent they rule the soul, 
 And nought, terrestrial, can their will control. 
 
 The Father of the Gods, and men, great Jove, 
 Sends to the mortal, worthy of his love, 
 His eagle that, with rapid pinion bright, 
 The Favourite bears to a celestial height. 
 Jove wills who, mid the sublunary throng, 
 Shall be a monarch, or a son of song, 
 And, with propitious hand, doth Jove assign, 
 Around whose brow the laurel-wreath shall twine. 
 Apollo who the Pythian serpent slew, 
 To the Gods' Favourite, stands revealed to view; 
 Cupid, the subtle heart-subduer smiles, 
 And, with bewitching dreams, his soul beguiles; 
 Neptune commands the billows wild to sleep, 
 And Caesar's vessels navigate the deep; 
 Jove's Favourite, impetuous dolphins greet, 
 And the tamed lion crouches at his feet! 
 
 Grieve not that, to the Fortune-favoured, Heaven, 
 A triumph, easily achieved, has given!
 
 J. C. F. von SCHILLKR. 63 
 
 Envy not him whom Venus beareth far 
 
 From peril, mid the thunderbolts of war! 
 
 How enviable he who thus doth prove 
 
 The object of her care, and jealous love! 
 
 How desolate the mortal, from whose sight 
 
 The Goddess veils her vivifying light! 
 
 Achilles' laurels not less brightly gloAved, 
 
 Though sombre Vulcan sword, and shield bestowed, 
 
 And, was not all Olympus deeply moved, 
 
 In favour of a Chief, th' Immortals loved? 
 
 To give him fame, the bravest warriors died, 
 
 And their shades wandered near the Stygian tide. 
 
 Envy not Beauty, if, devoid of care, 
 Venus hath formed her, as the lily, fair; 
 Be not aggrieved; survey her brilliancy, 
 To contemplate her charms, is bliss to thee! 
 No merit of thine own wins this delight, 
 And, meritless, she captivates thy sight. 
 The gift of song comes from the heavenly sphere, 
 The tones melodious, rapturous to thine ear, 
 The Minstrel leams of the celestial Nine, 
 And thou'rt enchanted by his notes divine. 
 While the Olympians fire his tuneful soul, 
 The Minstrel holds o'er thee, a God's control; 
 In the celestial gift doth he rejoice, 
 While thou, with ecstacy, dost hear his voice.
 
 64 J- C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 On the World's active stage doth Justice stand, 
 Her scales the Goddess holdeth in her hand, 
 And with a rigid eye, hath she assigned 
 The various gifts, allotted to mankind. 
 Joy's rosy flush, the Gods impart, alone, 
 Without a miracle, is bliss unknown. 
 Joys e'er, from Heaven, mysteriously flow, 
 All happiness th' Olympians bestow. 
 That which is human — all, in every clime, 
 From stage, to stage, beneath the hand of time, 
 Must germ, bud, blossom — - ripen 'neath the eye, 
 Till slowly it attains maturity. 
 
 The Blissful and the Beautiful, to thee, 
 Develope not their charms, progressively; 
 Ripe, from eternity, their glories shine, 
 In full luxuriance, peerless and divine! — 
 Each Venus, to our sphere terrestrial given, 
 Is, as the first, a miracle of Heaven; — 
 A mystic birth! — The Goddess greets our eye, 
 From the vast ocean of Infinity! — 
 Equipped with arms, and with refulgent shield, 
 The first Minerva was, to earth, revealed; 
 Thus Jove's ideas, in perfection bright, 
 Are, by the Thunderer, revealed to light.
 
 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. 
 
 J. his celebrated Poet was the son of Dr. John 
 Caspar Goethe, who was a solicitor and, at the same 
 time, Imperial counsellor; his son was bora at Frank- 
 fort on the Maine, August the 28 th, 1749. He was 
 trained under the most favourable auspices. After hav- 
 ing, at the public school of his native city, exhibited 
 many indications of a head extremely original, and 
 extraordinary, and, after having made rapid progress 
 in different languages, in music, drawing, engraving on 
 copper &c. &c, he received a most careful education, 
 under the superintendence of his highly respected father, 
 who initiated him in the study of jurisprudence, and, 
 in order to devote himself seriously to this pursuit, he 
 went, in 17G5, to the university of Leipsic, where he 
 remained till 1768. At this period Gnttsched taught 
 at Leipsic, but Ernesti and Gellert attracted particularly 
 his attention. In a short time Goethe followed no re-
 
 66 JOHN WOLFGANG vou GOETHE. 
 
 gular system of study. Here lie laid the foundation 
 of that Art in which he so pre-eminently distinguished 
 himself, at a future period, and which was the source 
 of the greatest happiness of his existence. The study of 
 jurisprudence soon became a secondary affair. Professor 
 Oeser, who had already exercised considerable influence 
 over Winkelmann, obtained a similar ascendency over 
 the mind of Goethe, and directed his attention to the 
 history of the arts. 
 
 A malady which he had contracted by inhaling 
 poisonous mineral vapours, while engaged in making 
 experiments, in engraving, occasioned his return, in 
 1768, to the paternal house. In 1770, by the desire 
 of his father, he went to Strasburg, in order to enter 
 himself as student of jurisprudence. A circumstance 
 which had important results to Goethe, was the ac- 
 quaintance he here formed with Herder, and the inti- 
 mate friendship which resulted. Herder initiated liim 
 into the superior studies of the Italian school of art, 
 which exhibited to him Poetiy, in her sublime relations 
 with Nature, nations, and the world; this led him to 
 the great source of the impulsion of Nature, and of 
 instinctive inspiration, which thus gave the first incite- 
 ment to that intellectual, revolutionary movement, among 
 that circle of friends, united at Strasburg, to winch, 
 besides Goethe, belonged Lenz, Lerse, Wagner and
 
 JOHN WOLFGANG von <.<>l.'i ill ti i 
 
 Stilling. Goethe who was the centre of that movement, 
 has termed this era, after a drama of Klinger, „Sturm 
 und Drangperiode" (The period of storm and impulsion.) 
 It is remarkable that, during his residence at Stras 
 burg, a city on the frontier of France, he acquired 
 neither French habits, nor sympathies. Shakespeare, 
 who was denominated by this circle, „The only Poet 11 
 had prepared Goethe for a view of the world, and for 
 intellectual enjoyments, more elevated and more free, 
 and as true as they were poetical, and finally, the 
 English Poet had subjugated Goethe's mind, and had 
 obtained an influence which augmented, day by day. 
 After his promotion, as Doctor of Laws, the 16th 
 of August, 1771, the residence of Goethe, in Alsace, 
 was but of short duration; he passed through -Frank- 
 fort, where he first saw his future brother-in-law, John 
 George Schlosser, who introduced him to a literary 
 circle at Darmstadt, and, in that circle, he made the 
 acquaintance of tee satyrical writer, Merk. From Frank- 
 fort he went to Wetzlar, in order to familiarize him- 
 self with the practise of jurisconsult, in the superior 
 tribunal of the empire. After his return to his native 
 city, he attracted the attention of all German} by two 
 works; „Gb't2 von Berliehingen", published in 177.".. and 
 „The Sorrows of Werther" which appeared in 177-1. 
 The glory, that he acquired by these productions, eon-
 
 68 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. 
 
 neetecl with the circumstance, that he had written against 
 Wieland (the author of an unfavourable critique on 
 „Clavigo" published by Goethe in 1774), a satyrical 
 pamphlet, entitled: „Gods, Heroes, and Wieland", awak- 
 ened in the soul of the hereditary Prince, Charles 
 Augustus of Weimar, and his brother Constantin, the 
 desire to become acquainted with Goethe, and, by 
 the intermediation of M. de Knebel, he was presented 
 to the young Princes, and produced so favourable an 
 impression, that, immediately after his accession, to the 
 dukedom, he gave Goethe an invitation to Weimar, 
 and he arrived the 1st of November, 1775. From this 
 period dates his influence over the intellectual pursuits 
 of that noble Prince, who, the following year, ap- 
 pointed Goethe, secretary of the legation, with a seat, 
 and vote, in the secret council, and he ultimately be- 
 came prime minister. 
 
 In 1779, the Grand Duke took a journey through 
 Switzerland, and was accompanied by Goethe, who had 
 before, visited that country, in 1773, with the Counts 
 de Stolberg, and M. de Haugwitz, who, afterwards, 
 became minister of state, in Prussia. When Goethe 
 returned, he devoted himself, entirely, to the different 
 branches of state affairs, and was elevated to the dig- 
 nity of president of the Prince's supreme court of ju- 
 dicature, and obtained a patent of nobility.
 
 JOIIX WOLFGANG ron GOETHE. 09 
 
 In 1780 he realized his long cherished project, of 
 undertaking a journey through Italy, and, in that coun- 
 try, he finished, in 1787, his „]plii<i<-)iiu u , and in 1788 
 terminated „EgmojU u , and made tin: .-Ketch of „Torquato 
 Tasso" which may be considered a picture of his own 
 life, and June the 1st, 1788, on his return through 
 Rudolstadt, lie whs introduced to Schiller, towards 
 whom, at first, he felt no particular sympathy, on ac- 
 count of their different views, and the diversity of their 
 intellectual occupations. Meeting, by chance, in return- 
 ing from the assembly of naturalists, at Jena, caused 
 a stricter intimacy, and gave an impulsion to their 
 friendship. 
 
 After a second journey in Italy, Goethe undertook, in 
 Mayl791,the direction of the newly-erected court-theatre, 
 in Weimar, and brought that institution to so high a 
 state of artistic perfection , that it exercised an influence, 
 hitherto unknown, on the taste of Weimar and the rest 
 of Germany. Weimar, at this epoch, was superi 
 all other royal residences, and to the other German 
 cities, on account of the men of brilliant talent, who 
 resided there. In that city Wieland's muse was first 
 propitious; Musaus, Bode, Bertuch and others joined 
 his circle; Goethe, Herder, and, at a later period, 
 Schiller, were members of that society; von Kncliel. 
 Einsiedel, Siegmond de Seokendorf, and Bottiger re-
 
 7<> JOHN WOLFGANG von tXtETHE. 
 
 sided there; Madame do Wolzogen, and Amelia dTm- 
 hof also distinguished themselves above other women 
 of that period. 
 
 The artistic labours of Goethe were interrupted, 
 during the expedition in Champagne, whither, in 1792, 
 he accompanied his Prince, and, amid the turmoils of 
 war, he composed his ^Theory on Colours 11 . The spec- 
 tacle of the fugitives of France, or rather the history 
 of the evangelical emigrants, afforded him the ground- 
 work for that charming poem, ^Hermann and Dorothea". 
 At limited intervals emanated from the pen of the im- 
 mortal Scholar and Poet, the most important works 
 that German art and science can produce, namely: in 
 1796, „The Years of Apprenticeship of William Meister"; 
 in 1805, „ Wirikelmann and his Times 11 ; „Faust", the niosl 
 pure and genial of the national poems, first published 
 in 1790, with the continuation in 1800. The above- 
 mentioned works may be said to terminate the true 
 poetical career of Goethe, lie also wrote in 1807, 
 „Ideas on organic Formations"; in 1809, „The el 
 Affinities"; in 1711, ^Extracts from my Life"; in 1816, 
 „Art and Antiquity"; in 1819, ,.The Western- Eastern 
 Divan"; in 1821, „The Years of Wanderings of William 
 Meister, and many other works. 
 
 As early as the year 1797, the Grand Duke had 
 an agreeable and commodious house built for bim, and
 
 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. 71 
 
 here, in October, 1806, while surrounded by the dan- 
 gers of warfare, he contracted a marriage with the sister 
 
 of the librarian Vulpius, and Goethe then abandoned 
 his (unctions, as statesman. Some time afterwards he 
 relinquished the directorship of the theatre, when the 
 „Dog of Aubrey" was to have been represented. This 
 was the only unharmonious circumstance which had 
 occurred, dining his joyous artistic life, but this event 
 made no alteration in those enviable connexions which 
 subsisted between him and the Grand Dnko who, in 
 1815, elevated Goethe to the rank of first minister 
 of state. 
 
 Goethe lost his wife in June, lHlti; his only son, 
 Walther von Goethe who had been elected prime mi- 
 nister, died in 1830. In the decline of his life, when 
 deprived by death, of the Guardian of his genius, the 
 Grand Duke, Goethe entirely abandoned state affairs, 
 and resided, alternatively, at Jena, Weimar and Dorn- 
 burg, being, in the lull splendour of his glory, a vene- 
 rable monument of a vanished, brilliant age. lie had 
 the happiness to live, and behold his grand -sons 
 playing around his knees, and he was the witness <>l 
 a new- literary era. He was uninterruptedly occupied 
 in scientific pursuits, and while thus employed, he was 
 attacked by an indisposition, and even during the time 
 
 he lay in a state of unconsciousness , he unceasingly,
 
 72 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. 
 
 with his right hand, made signs in the air, like a 
 person in the act of writing. March the 22 nd, 1832, 
 this celebrated Poet died a gentle death which truly 
 harmonized with his happy and joyous life. The second 
 part of „Faust" was published in 1833. 
 
 There are details respecting Goethe and his con- 
 temporaries, in his work, entitled, ^Extracts from my 
 Life", or „Poetry and Truth", and also in the „Life of 
 Goethe", by Dr. Henry Doring, in the supplementary 
 volumes of his complete works. 
 
 Works. 
 
 The newly-arranged edition of the „ Works of Goethe", which had 
 been, for the first time, published in 1827, appeared, in 1840, in 40 Vo- 
 lumes, at Stuttgart and Tubingen. In 1841, C. Boas, at Leipsic, pub- 
 lished 3 Volumes , serving as a supplement to his complete works. At 
 Diisseldorf, in 1846, was published, by Henry Viehoff, in „Goethe's Lyric 
 Poems with Notes" a collection of pieces, hitherto unknown.
 
 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. 73 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 Awakened is the mom; that cheering glow 
 Dispelleth balmy slumber from mine eye, 
 
 I quit my cot, and toward the mountain-brow. 
 With spirit buoyant, hasten joyously; 
 
 As, 'math each footstep, trembling dew-drops flow 
 O'er spring-flowers, decked with many a brilliant dye: 
 
 Young day her scenes enchanting doth reveal; 
 
 All breathes new life, and life renewed I feel. 
 
 1 climb the mountain. Misty clouds ascend 
 
 From the calm river's undulating bed: 
 Those clouds, in changing shapes fantastic, blend, 
 
 And now, like pinions, they around me spread: 
 A drapery dark and nebulous doth rend 
 
 The landscape from my gaze: dense gloom is shed, 
 And lone, 'mid solemn twilight, do I move, 
 While near, impenetrable vapours rove.
 
 74 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. 
 
 The sun has pierced the mist: rays cheer mine eye, 
 The rays dissolve, — awakened now again, 
 
 Here gently vanished their refulgency, 
 
 There gild they mountain, forest, wood, and plain. 
 
 I pant the sun to welcome as, on high 
 
 First rise his beams toward ether's blue domain : 
 
 Doubtful th' aerial conflict. As I gaze, 
 
 Lo! I am dazzled by Heaven's brilliant rays. 
 
 Emboldened now, by heart-felt, pure delight, 
 I contemplate the scene enchanting, near, 
 
 Yet, how bewildered mine enfeebled sight, 
 
 By tints luxuriant, mingling in the air! — 
 
 Lo ! — borne on matin clouds, serenely bright, 
 I see a female Form, divinely fair; 
 
 I ne'er, before, survey'd such peerless grace, 
 
 She views me, and arrests 'mid realms of space. — 
 
 „Know'st thou me not!" she saith, in gentle tone, 
 
 In which fidelity, and love entwine; 
 „Thou knowest not from whom has ever flown 
 
 Life's purest balm, fur countless wounds of thine? — 
 Thou know'st me well! My spirit and thine own, 
 
 In sympathy, eternally combine; 
 When thou wast yet a child, I've witnessed thee, 
 With tearful aspirations, sigh for me!" —
 
 JUJ1.N \\ OLPG VNG iron GOETffl 75 
 
 jjYes!". — I exclaim, and towards the earth incline, 
 „Thy guardian influence, long, have I confessed; 
 
 '.Mid passion's reign tumultuous, halm of thine 
 
 Has calmed tierce conflict, in my youthful bre t 
 
 At mid-day, by thy pinion divine, 
 
 How oft my feverish brow has been refreshed! 
 
 I>y thee, life's richest treasures have been won, 
 
 And bliss will I receive from thee, alone!" 
 
 „1 name thee not! — Tis true that, thousands boast, 
 They know thee well; each claims thee as Aw own; 
 
 Vet, they who vaunt they contemplate thee most, 
 'rum, dazzled, from the lustre of thy throne. 
 
 I roved, in error, unce, 'mid Pleasure's host, 
 Since thee I prize, are my companions gone; 
 
 Alone, must I enjoy felicity, 
 
 And veil that light which emanates from thee. u — 
 
 She saith: - - „hov» needful — • how discreet, in thee, 
 
 Thy sentiments, so little, to unveil! 
 From gross delusion, barely art thou fi 
 
 Ami childhood's foibles, barely, canst conceal, 
 When thou assum'st, a Demi-god, to he, 
 
 Ami, in man's duty, no delight dosl feel! 
 Thee — differenl to others do we find? 
 Know thyself! live, in peace, with all mankind!-
 
 76 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. 
 
 r Ah!" — I exlaim, — „I pardon crave of thee; 
 
 In vain, unto my sight, shall light appear? 
 A sacred inclination chaffeth me, 
 
 Thy gifts do I appreciate, and revere! 
 Entombed, no longer, shall my Talent be, 
 
 That Treasure I amass, shall others share ! 
 To find the road — oh, why such zeal display, 
 If I guide not my brethren, on their way?" — 
 
 That sacred Being contemplates mc, now, 
 With a compassionating, guardian eye, 
 
 And, in its eloquent, indulgent glow, 
 My merits and my foibles I descry. 
 
 A vivifying smile illumes her brow; 
 In my soul thrills renewed felicity, 
 
 And an internal confidence is mine, 
 
 While, in the presence, of that Form divine. — 
 
 Th' aerial Visitant extends her hand, — 
 
 The mist, and morning clouds that hover near, 
 
 Obey her signal, and each vapourous band, 
 Gently dissolving, vanishes, in air! — 
 
 Mine eye roves o'er the valley, as I stand, 
 
 And contemplate, entranced, Heaven's azure sphere. 
 
 Around that Form a snow-white Veil is twined, 
 
 That waves, in folds, amid the balmy wind. —
 
 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. 77 
 
 „I know thee well; — thy foibles have [ known. 
 
 Thy germs of merit are revealed to me!" — 
 I Memory will ever dwell upon her tone,) 
 
 Receive a Treasure, destined, long, for thee, 
 lie who with soul collected, this doth own, 
 
 Above all mortals, tastes felicity; — 
 This Veil of Poesy, by Truth, is given, 
 Woven by the mists of morn, and rays of Heaven." 
 
 „h' thou, or friends of thine, should feel oppressed, 
 At noon, spread forth his Veil, 'mid sultry air, 
 
 And eve's refreshing zephyr cools thy breast, 
 Sweet flowerets wait balsamic odours near, 
 
 Each care terrestrial is lulled to rest, 
 
 And, to a bed of clouds, is changed thy bier, 
 
 Life's waves tumultuous swiftly glide away, 
 
 More brilliant is thy night — more calm thy day." — 
 
 Haste! hither haste, my friends! if, on your way, 
 Life's burden prove still more and more severe, 
 
 Or, if kind Fortune golden stores display, 
 
 And deck your path with fruit, and garlands fail-: 
 
 United, let us welcome opening dav, 
 
 And let us, joyously run life's career! 
 
 If, o'er our tomb, our children's tears should flow, 
 
 Oh, may our Works of Love delight bestow!
 
 78 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. 
 
 SONGS. 
 
 Late vibrate tones I heard in youthful days. 
 From joy and grief the minstrel forms his lays. 
 
 APOLOGY. 
 
 Mysterious will often prove" 
 
 Th'effusions of a Poet's brain! 
 My scattered poems to obtain, 
 
 From house to house I now must rove. 
 
 Those scenes, which far, far distant lie, 
 On Life's e'er fluctuating strand, 
 Here, in th'indulgent Reader's hand, 
 
 Within his mansion, greet his eye. 
 
 Be not discouraged, persevere, 
 
 The volume finish, Reader kind! 
 Since, in the world, caprice we find, 
 
 Here contradictions will appear.
 
 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. 79 
 
 TO THE BENEVOLENT. 
 
 The Poets love not mute to bi , 
 They cherish sociability , 
 
 Censure and flattery they devour! 
 We love not to confess, in prose, 
 But secretly, beneath the rose, 
 
 Within the Muses' peaceful bower. 
 
 Mine errors, wanderings, tendencies, 
 My sufferings, and my sympathies, 
 
 As wreaths, and chaplets, greet thee here; 
 Age, infancy, and youthful grace, 
 In Song, have their allotted place, 
 
 And all, in Nature's tints, appear.
 
 80 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. 
 
 THE NEW AMADIS. 
 
 In boyhood's early, sunny day, 
 A lonesome child was I, 
 
 And years passed rapidly away, 
 In strict captivity. 
 
 Thou, golden -pinioned Fantasy, 
 
 Didst , then , extend thy hand , 
 
 And, like king Pipin I, by thee, 
 Was led from land to land! 
 
 Bright crystal mansions I behold, — 
 As clouds they disappear: 
 
 Lo ! now am I a hero bold , 
 
 And dragons feel my spear! 
 
 A Princess fait, as captive mourns; 
 
 My sword Jiath set her free; 
 Now, to her palace she returns, 
 
 There joys are stored for me.
 
 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. 81 
 
 I pledge unto that beauteous one, 
 
 Love's everlasting vow : 
 What bliss luxuriant is our own, 
 
 Love's sun-beams round us glow ! — 
 
 Alas! doth a magician's wand 
 
 My Charmer bear away? 
 To find her, in th 'enchanted land, 
 
 What guide directs me ? — say !
 
 82 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. 
 
 STIRBT DER FUCHS, SO GILT DER BALG. 
 
 „Stirbt derFuchs, so gilt der Balg u , signifies literally : When the fox 
 dies, the skin is of value. This is a game of Forfeits which is frequently 
 played by the children of Germany. In France this game is termed: ,,Le 
 petit Pierre brdle encore." The players sit in a circle, and a lighted 
 match is rapidly passed from the hand of one to the other. That person 
 in whose hand the flame expires , pays a forfeit.) 
 
 As, 'neath an arbour's shade, at noon, 
 
 We, joyous children, lay, 
 Sly Cupid his appearance made, 
 
 And wished, at „Fox" to play. 
 
 As each doth sit, and, at his side 
 The nymph he holds most dear, 
 
 Young Cupid blows the taper out, 
 And cries: „The torch is here! 11 
 
 Th' enkindled torch by Cupid given, 
 Is seized with child-like haste, 
 
 And oh, with what rapidity, 
 
 From hand to hand is passed!
 
 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. H3 
 
 With smiles and raillery I receive, 
 
 From Dorilis, the brand, 
 The taper barely do I touch, 
 
 When lo! it burns my hand. 
 
 The flame increasing rapidly, 
 
 O'er eye, breast, face is spread, 
 
 And thence arising swift, on high, 
 It blazes o'er my head ! 
 
 I strive to quench the vivid flame; 
 
 How vain each effort tried! 
 Instead of dying, lo! the Fox, 
 
 In me, is vivified.
 
 84 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. 
 
 THE WOOD -ROSE. 
 
 Exhaling vernal fragrance, grows, 
 Within a wood, a budding rose, 
 
 Bright as Aurora's glowing skies: 
 A Child perceives the Floweret fair, 
 And running, with delighted air, 
 
 He saith, with accent of surprise: 
 „ Sweet rose-bud, rose-bud, rose-bud red, 
 Bright rose-bud of the wood ! " 
 
 The Child exclaims, in joyous mood: 
 „I'll pluck thee, Rose-bud of the wood!" 
 
 The Flower, indignantly, replies: 
 ^Presumptuous little one, beware! 
 For an avenging thorn I bear, 
 
 To vindicate mine injuries ! " 
 Oh, rose-bud, rose-bud, rose-bud red, 
 Bright rose-bud of the wood! —
 
 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. 85 
 
 The volatile, unthinking Child 
 Gathers the heauteous Rose-bud wild, 
 
 But soon he feels a poignant smart : 
 How vain his agonizing cry! 
 How long he feels the agony, 
 
 Inflicted by thy tiny dart, 
 Oh, rose-bud, rose-bud, rose-bud red, 
 Sweet Rose-bud of the wood!
 
 86 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. 
 
 BLIND-MAN'S-BUFF. 
 
 Tell me, oh, Theresa fair! 
 Why that supercilious air, 
 
 When thou hadst unloosed the band? 
 While the 'kerchief veiled thine eye, 
 Ah, with what avidity 
 
 Didst thou grasp me by the hand! 
 
 Yes! so warmly was I pressed, 
 That 1 sank upon thy breast, 
 
 Willing captive unto thee. 
 When the 'kerchief was removed, 
 Ah! Theresa, the beloved 
 
 Darted freezing looks on me! 
 
 Groping, here and there, I roved, 
 Laughing-stock of all I proved, 
 
 All my limbs in jeopardy. 
 If I fail to gain thy love, 
 Blindfold would I ever rove, 
 
 As, when prisoner made, by thee!
 
 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. 87 
 
 CHRISTINA. 
 
 In sombre mood how oft am I, 
 
 And sadness chills each vein; 
 Vet, when Christina dear is nigh, 
 
 How bright is all again! 
 I see her here — I see her there, 
 
 Yet 'tis a mystery 
 Profound, — why my Christina fair 
 
 Thus fascinateth me. 
 
 Whenever, upon mine, doth rest 
 
 Her dark, expressive eye, 
 Ah, from this palpitating breast, 
 
 My spirit seems to fly! 
 Such cheeks, with tint of rose-bud dyed, 
 
 Before were never seen, 
 Say! who could e'er be satisfied 
 
 To gaze ou Christine's mienV
 
 88 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. 
 
 When, through the giddy waltz, we move, — 
 
 When clasped unto my heart, 
 Th'enthusiastic bliss I prove, 
 
 No words can e'er impart. 
 As, on mine arm, amid the ring, 
 
 Christina doth recline, 
 Not for the treasures of a king 
 
 My joys would I resign! 
 
 And when her captivating eye 
 
 Is fixed on mine alone, 
 And when I kiss her tenderly, 
 
 What transport is mine own! 
 I feel each vein and fibre swell 
 
 With thrilling ecstacy ! 
 So weak am I, so strong, ill, well, 
 
 Christina, when by thee! — 
 
 Ye days, pass rapidly away! 
 
 Swiftly the time will glide, 
 When cometh that auspicious day 
 
 That thou wilt be my bride. — 
 Methought Christina was my wife, 
 
 'Mid dreams, and troubled rest; 
 Oh, may I terminate this strife, 
 
 Or die upon her breast!
 
 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETHE. 89 
 
 THE PRUDE. 
 
 One vernal morn, devoid of care, 
 
 A gay, young Shepherd-maiden sang, 
 
 The wild notes of the Songstress fair, 
 'Mid hill and valley sweetly rang: 
 
 So la la! le ralla! 
 
 By proffered lambs, with fleeces white, 
 
 Would Thyrcis, fain, the Nymph decoy; 
 
 She ponders, — then with footstep light, 
 Away she trips, and sings with joy: 
 
 So la la! le ralla! 
 
 One offers ribbons, bright and gay, 
 
 One swain his heart would have resigned, 
 From lamb, silk, heart, she turns away, 
 
 Laughs, and, with independent mind, 
 Sings still: la la! le ralla!
 
 90 JOHN WOLFGANG von GOETIIE. 
 
 THE CONVERT. 
 
 Amid the forest-wilds I strayed, 
 
 At sunny eventide, alone, 
 And, on his flute, as Damon played, 
 
 The rocks responded to the tone: 
 So la la! le ralla! 
 
 He drew me, gently, to his side, 
 Damon embraced me tenderly. 
 
 „Oh, play another air!" I cried; 
 
 The youth complied: how good was he! 
 
 So la la! le ralla! — 
 
 Departed is my peace of mind, 
 
 Tranquillity is ever flown; 
 Vibrations endless do I find 
 
 Of one melodious, thrilling tone: 
 So la la! le ralla! 
 
 ■ jqogo*
 
 LOUIS HENRY CHRISTIAN HOLTY. 
 
 Louis Henry Christian Hblty was born the 21st 
 December 1748 near Hannover, at Mariensee, where his 
 father, a native of Hildesheim, was Pastor. Holty 
 displayed, even from his infancy, an ardent thirst for 
 study, and was possessed of a generous and amiable 
 disposition: these qualities, at a more advanced period, 
 were fully developed, and he obtained the esteem of 
 all to whom he was known. He received the benefit 
 of a careful education, in the paternal house, and, to 
 his mother, a most exemplary woman, he is indebted 
 for that purity of soul of which his poetry is the 
 mirror. Death early deprived him of this gentle guar- 
 dian, and the day after his mother's demise, Holty 
 was attacked with the small-pox, of a most virulent 
 kind, and, during two years, great fears were enter- 
 tained that he would lose his sight, through the effects 
 of that malady. He gradually recovered, but his face 
 which had, hitherto, been so remarkable for its beauty,
 
 92 L- H. C. HOLTY. 
 
 was greatly disfigured, and grief destroyed for ever 
 the serenity of his finely formed features. 
 
 After his re-establishment, Holty applied himself 
 entirely to scientific pursuits, and his father who di- 
 rected his studies, found abundant stores of mental 
 occupation for his son, who devoted himself, with the 
 greatest assiduity, to the study of Hebrew, Greek, Latin, 
 French, and other sciences, and so great was his zeal, 
 that he abandoned many pleasures, natural to his age, 
 barely allowed himself time for his meals, or for re- 
 creation, in the open air, and severity only could in- 
 duce him to quit his books: he seldom retired to rest 
 till Nature became quite exhausted, and rarely slept 
 till two in the morning. From his pocket-money, he 
 secretly purchased oil, and,, from a turnip, he fabricated 
 a lamp which afforded him light for his midnight 
 studies, and when by chance, this apparatus was dis- 
 covered , and confiscated by his watchful father , he kept 
 vigil during the night, and repeated those lessons he 
 had previously acquired. In order to prevent slumber 
 too prolonged; with a string, he tied his arm to a stone 
 which, being placed on a stool at his bed-side, fell 
 with the slightest movement, and thus awakened him. 
 
 Notwithstanding this rigid application, Holty was 
 ever alive to the beauties of Nature, and to the de- 
 lights of social intercourse ; this sentiment was nourished
 
 L. II. C. HOLTY. 93 
 
 in the intellectual circle of his father's friends, and in 
 
 the serene tranquillity of rural life. From his infancy 
 the youth exhibited a strong predcliction for all which 
 was calculated to inspire terror. He experienced great 
 delight in rambling, by erepusculum, or by moon-light, 
 in the most dreary places of the neighbourhood, and 
 he was frequently soon wandering, like a spectre at 
 midnight, among the tombs of the cemetery. When his 
 father remonstrated with him respecting his nocturnal 
 promenades, he listened to the exhortation with smiles, 
 avoided the error during some time, and, by his cap- 
 tivating manners, and submission, he obtained for- 
 giveness. Holty was characteristically negligent of his 
 dress, he rarely appeared, even in the auditory of 
 Gottingen, except in a frock-coat, covered with dust. 
 Holty remained in the paternal house till he was 
 sixteen, at that age he was more advanced in the 
 sciences than most young persons who frequent the 
 universities; but his father was of opinion that, without 
 the most profound knowledge of the ancients, there is 
 no possibility of acquiring true erudition, and therefore 
 he resolved to send his son, for some time, to the Ly- 
 ceum of Celle. Here, in the house of his uncle, the 
 Councellor of the chancery, M. Gossel, Holty remained 
 three years, and by his amiable manners, his extensive 
 knowledge, and his application, he obtained the Love,
 
 94 L. H. C. HOLTY. 
 
 and respect of all who surrounded him. At Michael- 
 mas 17G8 he returned to Mariensee, and at Easter the 
 following year, he went to the University at Gottingen. 
 
 Here, by the desire of his father, he conscientiously 
 applied to theological pursuits, with the intention of 
 devoting himself to the church. At the same time, with 
 the greatest assiduity, he studied the art of poetry, and, 
 in order to comprehend those authors who are con- 
 sidered models, he made himself master of the ancient 
 and modern languages. 
 
 Holty's father had resolved that his son should 
 remain three years at Gottingen; two had passed away 
 at the period he became acquainted with Burger, Miller, 
 and afterwards with the two counts de Stolberg, Voss, 
 Halm, Boje, Leisewitz and Cramer, and with all those 
 young men of genius who founded that alliance of poets 
 which was termed the „G'6ttinger Dichterbund", an asso- 
 ciation which exercised so great, and so benign an 
 influence over the developement of German national 
 literature. Holty was one of its most active members. 
 
 In the mean time Holty's father had resolved his son 
 should quit the University, in order to decide on a 
 profession. This was a source of bitter regret to the 
 young Poet, who could not endure the thought of 
 abandoning so many intellectual joys, but so recently 
 found. In another point of view, Gottingen had be-
 
 i.. ii. c. iroLTY. 95 
 
 come a very attractive residence. Like Petrarch, Bolty 
 had a Laura, a young lady, possessed of great beauty, 
 and of a highly cultivated mind. The idol of his af- 
 fection was ignorant how deep an impression she had 
 made on a heart of which she was, in secret, an object 
 of the most profound adoration. llolty entreated for 
 permission to remain some time longer at Gottingen, 
 and the indulgent father consented to prolong his stay 
 at the University six months longer. During this time 
 llolty obtained a stipend , and a gratuitous table-d'-h6te. 
 He had also, at the philological Seminary, an employ- 
 ment which was unfortunately, far from being profitable, 
 and he gained, by private instruction, that which he 
 moreover required, to furnish the means of subsistence, 
 and other incidental expenses. Thus he relieved his 
 father who was not wealthy, from the responsibility of 
 his maintenance, and llolty also gained permission to 
 lengthen his sojourn in Gottingen, and his father ulti- 
 mately consented to his remaining there as long as he 
 thought proper; however, with his contracted means, he 
 found himself, frequently, in embarassed circumstances. 
 In April 1774 he wrote thus to a friend: „In order 
 to alleviate the position of my father, I had decided 
 on giving instructions in the English and Gr<>ek lan- 
 guages. I devoted five hours, daily, to this employment, 
 but I have not received payment from the half of my
 
 96 L- H. C. HOLTY. 
 
 pupils, the other part have quitted Gottingen, or show- 
 no inclination to remunerate me. I am now in debt, 
 and must have recourse to my father's purse." 
 
 At Michaelmas 1744 Miller went to Leipzic, and 
 Hblty accompanied him thither; the following extract 
 from his journal is very characteristic. „From Nord- 
 heim to Rosla, the residence of the Count de Stol- 
 herg, we travelled in an open carriage, beneath a se- 
 rene and star-lit Heaven. At Rosla we were packed 
 in the above-mentioned yellow carriage. 
 
 This is a vehicle covered with yellow cloth, and 
 accommodates eight persons, two before, two behind, 
 and two on either side. My place afforded me an 
 opportunity to gaze, from the window, on a magnificent 
 Nature. We passed through Eisleben where Luther 
 was born, but as it was, unfortunately, night, we could 
 neither take a survey of the town, nor see Luther's 
 house, but here we were joined by a military officer, 
 who proved • a most agreeable travelling -companion. 
 We dined with him at Merseburg, and we regaled 
 ourselves, most satisfactorily with the beer of Merse- 
 burg. Klopstock has dignified this beer with the name 
 of the „King of Malt-liquor". It is the true Einherium 
 oleum. I sincerely believe that Odin and his companions 
 drank Merseburg-ale in Walhalla. We quaffed so libe- 
 rally of this beverage of the Gods, that our cheeks were
 
 L. II. C. HOLTY. 'J 7 
 
 as ruddy as those of the poet Uz when he composed 
 bis celebrated „Ode to the Divinity. 11 
 
 Between Merseburg and Leipsic we took coffee at 
 an hotel, before which was a phaeton, containing two 
 charming young ladies: one of -whom who was extre- 
 mely beautiful, made an indelible impression on my 
 heart. I placed myself at the door, and as she oc- 
 casionally passed to and fro, I gazed on her, as one 
 who is enchanted. Once, that lovely being approached 
 me so near that, she inadvertently touched me with 
 her arm. How agitated were my feelings when I saw 
 her depart! I rejoice to think that my heart is still 
 so sensitive. Through the influence of love, what a Heaven 
 is created on Earth! lie is an angel who enters that 
 Paradise; — he is an exile who finds not admission 
 there. Notwithstanding my dishevelled hair, perchance 
 she might have deigned to smile on me, had she known 
 that the celebrated ^TraumbiMerdichter" stood before 
 her." Holty's friends were in the habit of naming him: 
 „The Poet of the dreams of Fantasy." 
 
 After Holty's return from Leipsic, he was attacked 
 with, a violent cough, and pains in his side, and al- 
 though at an earlier period, a sufferer from that coin- 
 plaint, yet, he now appeared to treat the symptoms 
 with indifference. One morning his friend Voss who 
 remarked that he spit blood, earnestly entreated him 
 
 7
 
 98 L. H. C. HOLTY. 
 
 to have medical advice, but Holty replied, laughing 
 that, this circumstance was nothing extraordinary, and 
 was of no consequence, however, as other friends con- 
 tinually urged the same subject, he finally consented, 
 and accompanied Voss to a physician who conscien- 
 tiously, yet cautiously gave his opinion, and Holty's 
 penetrating mind became fully awakened to the truth 
 that, the youthful Poet had long been the prey of 
 consumption! On their return homewards, Holty gave 
 vent to the feelings of his agitated soul, in a flood 
 of unrepressed tears which fell on the bosom of his 
 sympathetic and sorrowing friend. 
 
 Voss, in his edition of Holty's poems, thus remarks: 
 „I never saw Holty weep before , and never since, 
 except on the occasion of his father's death. One 
 morning, on his entering my apartment, I said: „H<ilty, 
 how do you feel?" He replied: „Well, but my father 
 is dead!" Here his voice was interrupted by tears 
 that flowed copiously over his pale cheeks. 
 
 This shock aggravated that grief which already preyed 
 on his soul, and, by the advice of his friends, he re- 
 solved to repair to the country, in order to submit to 
 a regular course of medical treatment, under the cele- 
 brated Dr. Zimmermann. In the spring of 1775 he 
 went to Mariensee, and remained in the house of his 
 step-mother and sisters whose tender care, united to
 
 L. II. C. BO] i . 99 
 
 the regular, peaceful, and joyous life lie led in that 
 delightful neighbourhood, had so salutary an effect on 
 his constitution, that he again entertained hopes of a 
 speedy recovery. On the 25th May he thus wrote to 
 Voss: ^During the last few weeks, my health has visibly 
 improved; I can breathe more freely, and without feeling 
 pain: the beautiful month of May has flown away so 
 rapidly! During the morning, I wander in the garden, 
 or in the neighbouring wood. Sometimes I recline on 
 ..the grass, and read the „Messiah," or study Shakespeare. 
 Here 1 have not even thought of translations, I must 
 however set to work, if I intend to earn a sufficient 
 sum for the Hamburg journey." 
 
 In proportion as his hopes of recovery augmented, 
 Holty's ardour for study increased, and he composed, 
 and translated uninterruptedly, and with an assiduity, 
 far superior to his strength. With the products of his 
 economy he undertook little excursions to distant friends. 
 He remained a week at Wansbeck, in the house of 
 Voss. Here Holty experienced all those joys which 
 result from friendship, and the society of persons of 
 congenial mind. In the autumn of 1775, Holty again 
 repaired to Hanover, in order, once more to profit by 
 the medical treatment of Dr. Zimmermann. But, in the 
 winter, his strength suddenly appeared to forsake him, 
 and hope fluctuated day bj day. A circumstance that
 
 100 L. H. C. HOLTY 
 
 still increased Holty's mental anxiety was that, in order 
 to defray his expenses, he was compelled to undertake 
 translations from the English, and this occupation ex- 
 hausted his already enfeebled corporeal powers. Not- 
 withstanding this, he retained his natural cheerfulness 
 of disposition, and, when suffering least from his ma- 
 lady, Holty composed with his wonted vivacity, and 
 with his accustomed plenitude of imagination. 
 
 In the month of May 1776, a few months prior 
 to his decease, Holty thus wrote to Voss: „If you have 
 sufficient space in the „Gottinc/er Musenahnanach ," I 
 will convey some poems which are partly in my imagi- 
 nation, and partly vanished thence. During a long 
 interval I composed nothing. These are meagre and 
 unpoetical times, and may very justly be compared to 
 Pharaoh's lean kine, or to myself. I am obliged to 
 devote the morning-hours to translations; after dinner 
 I am attacked with a severe head-ache, and inflam- 
 mation of the eyes; these, and other painful symptoms, 
 prevent my applying to any serious occupation till five 
 in the evening. I have a great inclination to under- 
 take the proposed journey to Lubeck. I must hasten 
 to another spot, or I shall grow mouldy. Write me 
 soon, I shall certainly, for the future, write very fre- 
 quently to you." — 
 
 The noble Voss who, in the preface of the first
 
 L. 11. 0. HOLTT. 101 
 
 edition of Ilolty's Poems, published some extracts from 
 the young poet's letters, thus remarked: „My estimable 
 and beloved friend! this was the last letter I ever 
 received from thee. Unity died at Hanover, September 
 the 1st. 1779." 
 
 Thus early terminated the earthly career of one 
 who will take his place among the immortal Poets of 
 Germany. Holty's exterior was far from being attractive; 
 he was pale as a statue; when in company with his 
 friends, lie was usually reserved ami careless. To vulgar 
 eyes, he appeared the image of simplicity. Nothing 
 developed that Poet who sang in strains so impassioned 
 of love, and of the beauties of Nature, except the heart- 
 felt smile which, in his happier moments, illumed his 
 blue, intellectual eye. In the society of strangers he 
 was frequently very taciturn, and seldom uttered an 
 expression, unless the conversation took an interesting- 
 turn, but on such occasions, he conversed with so much 
 vivacity that, he riveted the attention of his auditors, 
 as this burst of eloquence was unexpected. He was 
 known, and respected by all in the neighbourhood who 
 considered Hblty a very distinguished, yet a mosl ex- 
 traordinary person. When, in his frock-coat he pro- 
 menaded, listlessly, in the street, he was frequently 
 accosted by strangers, who invited him to the hotel. 
 He never refused, but followed his new acquaintance,
 
 102 L- H. C. HOLTV. 
 
 to the parlour, emptied the glass of his entertainer, 
 and a mute farewell salutation was the only recompense 
 that the inquisitive host could obtain from his celebrated 
 Guest! This apathy must have appeared the more 
 strange, because Holty possessed great curiosity: he 
 was an acute observer of all that transpired in the 
 literary world, and no observation on his own produc- 
 tions, or on those of his friends, ever escaped him. 
 
 Among the German lyric Poets, Holty will ever 
 maintain a honourable place, but he excels mostly in 
 idyls and in elegies, many of the latter are admirable 
 compositions, and were written a short time previous 
 to his dissolution, while his mind entertained a strong 
 presentiment that he was rapidly hastening towards the 
 tomb. Though suffering from an enfeebled body, and 
 with a mind oppressed by care and anxiety, his effu- 
 sions are the mirror of a pure and elevated sold, enthu- 
 siastic, sensitive and noble. Holty's poems are not 
 distinguished by Schiller's brilliancy of imagination, nor 
 by the eagle-flight of Klopstock, yet, they delight by 
 their graceful form, their naivety and their genuine and 
 truthful delineation of Nature. 
 
 The first edition of Holty's poems was published 
 by a person named Gessler, a man without taste or 
 talents. Count F. L. de Stolberg, and J. H. Voss, 
 soon afterwards published another, a correct edition,
 
 L. 11. C. HOLTY. 103 
 
 entitled: n Poems by Lewis Henry Christian Ho%;" 
 
 edited by his friends, Leopold Frederick Stolberg, and 
 John Henry Voss. Hamburg 1783. This edition also 
 contains Holty's biography. 
 
 Works. 
 
 THE CONNAISSEUK, a weekly publication by Town; translated from 
 
 the English. Leipsic. 1775. 
 HURD'S MORAL AND POLITICAL DIALOGUES; translated from the 
 
 English : two volumes. Leipsic. 1775. 
 THE PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS OF THE EARL OF SHAFTESB1 i;\ \ 
 
 translated from the English: one volume. Leipsic. I77i;. After Holty's 
 
 death, this Work was terminated by another individual.
 
 104 L- H. C. HOLTY. 
 
 ADELSTAN AND ROSA. 
 
 A BALLAD. 
 
 When May, luxuriant month, began, 
 
 And all was fair and bright, 
 From kingly halls roved Adelstan, 
 
 A youthful, high-born knight. — 
 From courts where fashion's circle breathe, 
 
 From balls he wanders far, 
 And, for a shepherd's flowery wreath, 
 
 Resigns his golden star. 
 
 The vale, with verdant carpet spread, 
 
 And clover- spangled field, 
 Bestow a more luxuriant bed, 
 
 Than regal mansions yield. 
 He roves mid scenes that, day by day, 
 
 Still more his soul entrance, 
 And mingles with that circle gay, 
 
 Where shepherdesses dance.
 
 !,. II. C. IIOI/I'Y. 105 
 
 lie views, within a calm retreat, 
 
 The hamlet's loveliest Flower: 
 How ardently his heart doth beat , 
 
 Subdued by beauty's power! 
 Why marvel? — Love inflames each breast; 
 
 Fair Rosa is eighteen; 
 Of art is Adelstan possessed, 
 
 And captivating mien. 
 
 By tears, and many an artful wile, 
 The beauteous, village -maid, 
 A stranger to deceit and guile, 
 
 Is, by the Knight, betrayed. — 
 The zephyr of the grove, no more, 
 
 He panteth to inhale; — 
 He sits not in the sloe- tree bower 
 
 With Rosa of the vale. 
 
 Tired of wood, hamlet, waterfall, 
 
 He mounts his Arab steed; 
 Towards joys, within his marble hall, 
 
 He hastes, with breathless speed. 
 From ball to ball the Knight doth stray, 
 
 Heedless he lately roved, 
 Listening to Philomela's lay, 
 
 With Rosa, the beloved! —
 
 106 L. H. C. HOLTY. 
 
 Rosa, from' neath a hazel -bough, 
 
 Sees Knight and horse depart; 
 Eer check turns pale as winter's snow, 
 
 How palpitates her heart! 
 „My Adclstan, abandon me!"' — 
 
 He views, but hears her not; 
 His hat he waves, and rapidly 
 
 Departeth from the spot. — 
 
 The Mourner, on her crook reclined, 
 
 Grasps her neck -ribbon brighl ; 
 She gazes wildly: — swift as wind 
 
 Is vanished the gay Knight. 
 In keen despair, her feverish brow 
 
 Is, on the verdure, pressed, 
 And tears of bitter anguish flow 
 
 On Rosa's gentle breast. 
 
 No dance — no song delights her more, — 
 
 No rosy east — calm west; 
 The village seems, with gloom, veiled o'er, 
 
 Each bower a vipers nest. 
 A melancholy cricket flies, 
 
 And chirps before her door; 
 The night -owl screams! — Fair Rosa dies, 
 
 The hamlet's loveliest Flower! —
 
 L. H. C. HOl/TY. 1(17 
 
 The death-bell tolls with heavy tone, 
 
 The coffin, now, they bring, 
 A Bacristan moves slowly on, 
 
 And mournfully doth sing. 
 The pastor prayeth for the dead , 
 
 Flown from this vale of woe, 
 A sermon, by the priest, is read, 
 
 "While many a tear doth flow. 
 
 A cross, with golden chaplet, crowned, 
 
 Is placed an Rosa's grave, 
 Mists, from the verdant hills around, 
 
 "With tears her pillow lave. 
 Mysterious, melancholy night 
 
 Glides where affection weeps, 
 Yet, Luna's sympathising light 
 
 Doth glow where Rosa sleeps. — 
 
 On couch, with silken curtains bright, 
 
 Where gold profusely gleams, 
 On downy pillow sleeps the Knight, 
 
 Oppressed by harrowing dreams. 
 He starts, with fear's expression loud, 
 
 A lurid glare is spread; — 
 Enveloped in funereal shroud, 
 
 A Maid glides near his bed!
 
 108 L. H. C. HOLTY. 
 
 Rosa! — poor child! — that guileless one, 
 
 Blighted by falsehood's breath; 
 The roses, from her cheek, are gone, 
 
 Plucked by the hand of Death! 
 She touches hirn, with finger cold, 
 
 As, towards the Knight's wild gaze, 
 Her vest sepulchral doth she hold, 
 
 And winding-sheet displays! — 
 
 As faithless Adelstan doth lie, 
 
 Convulsed by nameless fears, 
 She gazes thrice, with hollow eye, 
 
 Then, weeping, disappears: — 
 Yet, e'er when midnight -hour doth come, 
 
 There, by the moon's pale ray, 
 She waves her garment of the tomb, 
 
 And vanishes away! — 
 
 The Knight, by torturing thought oppressed, 
 
 In secret, hides his woe, 
 Pale, melancholy is his guest, 
 
 He seems a spectre now! 
 With dagger armed, he wildly flies, 
 
 With palpitating breath, 
 To that lone tomb where Rosa lies, 
 
 The beauteous prey of Death;
 
 I.. |[. C. HIM. IV. 
 
 He staggers — falls. — Pierced is his heart, 
 
 On Rosa's mansion lone; 
 A demon cries: -• „Depart\ -- Departs 
 
 Adelstan's soul is flown. 
 To that false heart, th'avenging steel, 
 
 A fatal wound has given! 
 His eyes that torturing fear reveal, 
 
 Are wildly fixed towards Heaven. - 
 
 His relies, in the chnreh-yard lie, 
 
 The peasant, wandering lone, 
 Signeth the cross and hastily, 
 
 Departeth, shuddering, on! — 
 Till midnight, when the cock doth crow, — 
 
 With dagger in his breast, 
 Roves Adelstan, the prey of woe, 
 
 As many can attest! 
 
 109
 
 110 L. H. C. HOLTY 
 
 THE OLD PEASANT'S ADVICE 
 
 TO HIS SOX. 
 
 In Virtue's path life's journey run, 
 
 Till halting at the tomb, 
 Ne'er mayst thou be induced, my son, 
 
 From God's high-way to roam! 
 Then, in green fields, near rivers clear, 
 
 Thy pilgrimage will be; 
 Then, void of shuddering, or fear, 
 
 Death wilt thou calmly see. 
 
 Thy scythe, thy plough, each daily task 
 
 How light will all appear! 
 Thou'lt sing, beside thy water-flask, 
 
 As though rich wine were there. 
 All, to the wicked is severe, 
 
 Whate'er his time employ; 
 The devil guides, through regions drear, 
 
 And leaves him, void of joy.
 
 L. I! C. HOLTY. Ill 
 
 On him smiles neither cheerful spring, 
 
 Nor field of* yellow grain; 
 Fraud e'er impels him on the wing, 
 
 Base lucre to obtain. 
 To him wind, tree, and bower seem 
 
 The harbingers of gloom; 
 He finds, beyond life's troubled dream, 
 
 No peace within the tomb. 
 
 Fur when pale wandering spirits roam, 
 
 Transformed in a black hound, 
 Near to his late terrestrial home, 
 
 At midnight is he found ! 
 The spinners, gliding stealthily, 
 
 With spinning-wheel on arm, 
 Fly, trembling, like an aspen-tree, 
 
 With heart-thrilling alarm. 
 
 Spinners, as wheels turn round and round, 
 
 The fearful history tell, 
 And ardently they wish him bound 
 
 Within the vaults of Hell. 
 Old Hans a child of Satan proved, 
 
 Yes, 'till his dying-day! 
 His neighbour's land-mark he removed, 
 
 And stole his land away.
 
 112 L. H. C. HOLTY. 
 
 Now, as a man of fire, he moves, 
 
 Ploughing that neighbour's land, 
 And measuring, up and down, he roves, 
 
 With fiery cord in hand. 
 He burns with a demoniac light. 
 
 Beside the flaming plough; 
 He poughs, and burns the live-long night, 
 
 'Till rays of morning glow! 
 
 The Justice who deceived the poor, 
 
 Killed stags, robbed those in need, 
 Hunts with black hounds, through wood and moor; 
 
 On Satan's fiery steed. 
 On knotty staff, he's now a bear, 
 
 With shaggy fur! — He howls; 
 Sometimes a goat doth he appear, 
 
 And through the village prowls! 
 
 The Priest who once the dance condemned, 
 
 Yet, practised usury, — 
 A spectre, at the shrine, doth bend, 
 
 At midnight hour, his knee. 
 He thumps the pulpit; echoes fly 
 
 Thence toward the vault of Heaven! 
 He counts that money, greedily, 
 
 Which Penitence has given.
 
 L. H. ('. HOLTT. 113 
 
 The Lordling who the widow lone, 
 Once basely dispossessed, 
 
 In coach, impelled by sigh and groan, 
 "Will vide to Satan's feast. 
 
 Sulphureous garments, vividly 
 
 On fire, will round him wind, 
 
 A devil will his coachman be, 
 
 And imps will stand behind. — 
 
 In Virtue's path life's journey run, 
 
 Till halting at the tomb; 
 Ne'er mayst thou be induced, my son, 
 
 From God's high-way to roam ! 
 Then children's children, on thy tomb, 
 
 Sweet Mowers of Spring will rear, 
 Those flowers luxuriantly will bloom, 
 
 Bedewed by memory's tear.
 
 Ill L, II. C. IIOLTV 
 
 ELEGY 
 
 COUNTRY-MAIDEN. 
 
 Alas! what .solemn, melancholy sound 
 
 Re-echoes from yon ancient, moss -crowned dome? 
 Bride, father, mother, children weep around 
 
 The grave-digger, as he prepares a tomb. 
 In Death's funereal, mournful drapery, 
 
 A garland circling her flaxen hair, 
 A mother's lifeless treasure there doth lie, 
 
 The hamlet's Ornament is slumbering there! 
 
 Her young companions stand around her bier, 
 
 The village-dance is banished from each mind; 
 On Rosa's coffin flows affection's tear, 
 
 While, fur Death's chaplet, beauteous flowers are twined. 
 Rosa! in virtue, who could thee excel? 
 
 Who, of the tears of love, could worthier be? 
 Heaven's inmates that in realms celestial dwell, 
 
 Possess not more unsullied purity.
 
 L. H. C. HdLTY. 115 
 
 Lo! angel-like doth Rosa greet our view. 
 
 In rural vesture, at her narrow door: 
 Her gems were blossoms, glittering with dew, 
 
 The modest violet, and the meadow -flower, 
 Her fan was the balsamic zephyr's wing, 
 
 The arbour a luxuriant roof bestowed, 
 Her mirror was the pure, translucent spring 
 
 That, gently murmuring, near her cottage flowed. — ■■ 
 
 Sweet modesty, like silvery moon -beams fair, 
 
 Flushes her cheek, and sparkles in her eye, 
 Yet, Innocence, child of a better sphere, 
 
 Her guardian -angel, ever hovers nigh. 
 What ardent glances of the village youth, 
 
 In secret, toward the beauteous maiden roved! 
 And the fair shepherdess, the child of truth, 
 
 To one doth plight the solemn vows of love! 
 
 To William! — Beneath the beech-tree's shade, 
 
 At evening, in the sunny days of Spring, 
 How many a blooming youth, and village -maid 
 
 Assemble, jocundly to dance, and sing! 
 Fair Rosa gives her William ribbons bright, 
 
 At harvest -time, to deck her lover's hat, 
 And, smiling talks, with innocent delight. 
 
 As, on the sheaf, they joyously are sat
 
 11G L. II. C. HOLTY. 
 
 As Rosa binds the corn that William mows, 
 
 How oft, on his, her gentle glance doth rest, 
 'Till evening's tint, on the horizon glows, 
 
 And twilight's misty v.eil obscures the West! 
 Rosa is William's treasure of the earth, 
 
 The fairy of his dreams, his bliss by day: 
 Could seraphs that, from Heaven, derive their birth, 
 
 Love, with more purity of heart than they? — 
 
 Ah, William! William! the death-bells toll, 
 
 The hymn funereal echoes on the ear, 
 Pale mourners weep, as anguish rends each soul, 
 
 And lo! the flowery crown of Death is there! 
 William leans o'er the grave. Farewell to all 
 
 His earthly joy! — From Rosa's grave he moves, 
 And wipes the gushing, sacred tears that fall 
 
 Over the resting-place of her he loves. — 
 
 Slumber in peace! Oh slumber, beauteous one; 
 
 Until the solemn resurrection -day! 
 At evening, Philomela, may thy tone 
 
 Chant an harmonious funereal lay! 
 O'er variegated flowers, on Rosa's tomb, 
 
 Breathe, thou melodious zephyr of the West! 
 High on that venerable, moss -crowned dome, 
 
 Ye gentle turtle-doves — - construct your nest!
 
 L. ii. 0. noi/rv. 117 
 
 A WINTER- SONG. 
 
 Rich wines, flow, flow! 
 Keen North winds blow, 
 
 To rest doth Phoebus sink: 
 The shaggy bear 
 Frowns night -blasts near, 
 
 Drink, brethren, let us drink! 
 
 The wood -fire bright 
 Spreads cheerful light , 
 
 Lo! sparks, in volumes, fly; 
 The noble Rhine 
 Provides us wine: 
 
 Quaff, brethren, joyously! 
 
 The banquet gay 
 Drives frost away, 
 
 And ushers blooming Spring: 
 Joy's magic hours 
 Are crowned with flowers, 
 
 While feathered warblers sing.
 
 118 L- H. 0. HOLTY. 
 
 Songs echo round, 
 Harps sweetly sound, 
 
 We rove through valleys fair, 
 A virgin -train 
 Glide o'er the plain, 
 
 And grapes luxuriant bear. 
 
 Rush wildly forth, 
 Blasts from the North, 
 
 O'er valleys decked with snow ! 
 Yet, gently pass 
 That sparkling glass, 
 
 Whence purple juices flow! 
 
 Paint, brown and blue 
 The haughty shrew, 
 
 With supercilious air! 
 Yet, Boreas keen, 
 Shun Hermeline 
 
 Who veils her bosom fair!
 
 I,. II. C. BOLTY. 
 
 1 19 
 
 THE GRAVE-DIGGER'S SONG. 
 
 Thou spade, dig on! dig on! 
 
 The golden store I've won, 
 
 Oh spade, I owe to thee! 
 
 The rich become my prey, 
 
 The poor their tribute pay, 
 
 All homage yield to me! - 
 
 This Skull, once proud and high, 
 Returned no courtesy, 
 
 By whomsoe'er addressed. 
 This haggard Skeleton, 
 Whose lip and cheek are gone, 
 
 Once, wealth and rank possessed! 
 
 This Head where ringlets flow, - 
 Not many years ago, 
 
 Graced an angelic form; 
 Before her daily bowed 
 A brilliant, flattering crowd, 
 
 With adoration warm! —
 
 120 L. H. C. HOLTY. 
 
 My spade, dig on! dig on! 
 Each treasure I have won, 
 
 Oh spade, I owe to thee! 
 The poor a tribute pay, 
 The rich become my prey; 
 
 All homage yield to me!
 
 J. <J. F. von SCHILLER. I _' 1 
 
 GENIUS. 
 
 Dost thou demand: „ Should I believe the School-men's 
 treasured lore , 
 That lore which their disciples prize, like oracles 
 divine? 
 Will Science only guide my feet, where Peace hath 
 hid her store? 
 Do Happiness, and Justice kneel, at System's fra- 
 gile shrine?"' 
 
 „Nature! — shall I thy voice mistrust? — that voice, 
 like tones of Eeaven? 
 That Law must I forswear, by thee, inscribed upon 
 my breast, 
 Ere, on thlmmortal Document, the School their seal 
 had graven 
 And . on my free - born spirit , had that formal 
 seal impressed?"
 
 122 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 „ Oh answer! Thou didst penetrate that sombre, dread 
 abode; 
 Uninjured, say! didst thou escape from Death's 
 mysterious sphere? 
 Thou who, in dreary sepulchres, with mummies, oft hast 
 trod , 
 Know'st, if from subterranean tombs, the Balm of 
 Life flows there!" 
 
 „That road, obscured by clouds of night, with terror 
 fills my mind; 
 Yet , thitherward , I fain would rove , Justice , and 
 Truth to find!" — 
 The glories of the Golden -age, my friend, are known 
 to thee, 
 That Age, the theme of Poets', songs, and deathless 
 minstrelsy. 
 
 Then deigned th'Olyinpians to reside among the sons 
 of earth, 
 Then Innocence, within the breast of man, was 
 wont to dwell, 
 Implanted by that Sovereign Power which gave the 
 planets birth, 
 And vivified the hidden germ, within the egg's 
 frail shell.
 
 .1. C. P. von 8CHILLEB 1 -'■'< 
 
 Man's soul obeyed instinctively that calm, harmonious 
 power, 
 Whose laws impelled him , silently , towards Truth's 
 divine abode, 
 And as the dial's circling wand, doth trace the fleet- 
 ing hour, 
 Thus man, by laws unerring, sought th'eternal 
 Source of Grood! — 
 
 No sceptic then perverted Truth, and, not amid the 
 tombs , 
 Found man that vivifying law, unveiled to every 
 eye; 
 Each heart possessed th'eternal Code, from which 
 all wisdom comes , 
 Yet, none could penetrate the source, involved in 
 mystery. 
 
 The Golden -age is passed away! Anarchy's envoys 
 rove, 
 Destroyed is sacred Nature's peace, and vanished 
 is her rest; 
 No longer are the thoughts of man, the Oracles oi 
 Jove, 
 The whisperings of the Deity, no more, inspire 
 his breast.
 
 124 J. 0. P. von SCHILLER. 
 
 In the heart's deep recess, alone, that voice divine is 
 found : 
 Responses, unto Innocence, will ever, thence, be 
 given ; 
 That Sage who lists with guileless heart, again, will 
 hear the sound, 
 And, to th'Enquirer, will respond Nature's pure 
 tones of Heaven! — 
 
 Didst thou, young student, never from thy Guardian- 
 angel fly? 
 Is sacred conscience still, thy soul's instinctive, 
 cherished guest ? 
 Doth Truth's celestial, glowing ray, still sparkle in 
 thine eye, 
 And echoes her melodious voice, within thy child- 
 like breast? 
 
 Doth not tumultuous Doubt disturb thy calm, contented 
 mind ? 
 Eternally, as now, will Doubt, within thy spirit 
 lie? 
 Will fierce - conflicting sentiments ne'er strive, a judge, 
 to find? 
 Will not the pride of Science taint thy heart's 
 deep purity? —
 
 J. C. F. V..11 SCHILLER. 1 25 
 
 If it be thus, my youthful friend; live thou, in virtue 
 strong , 
 Yield not to Science' rigid code: her laws can 
 teach thee nought, 
 Science may learn of thee! Despotic laws that rule 
 the throng 
 Tumultuous — ne'er were penned for thee! Thy 
 statute is — Free Tkoughtl 
 
 For generations, yet unborn, will Codes be formed by 
 
 thee; 
 Fruits, ripened 'neath thy fostering hand will future 
 
 ages prize; 
 The inspirations of thy soul, omnipotent will be, 
 
 While thou'rt unconscious of the God that, in thy 
 
 bosom, lies! 
 Unconscious of thy seal of Power! — Thou, modestly 
 
 wilt glide 
 Amidst a world thou hast subdued, for — Genius is 
 
 thy Guide! 
 
 'K>iXro:
 
 60DFRED AUGUSTUS BURGER. 
 
 JDurger's life was, with very few exceptions, nought, 
 save a melancholy tragedy. Few mortals have drained 
 ;i more bitter cup of existence than this justly -cele- 
 brated Poet. 
 
 Godfred Augustus Burger was born at Wolmers- 
 wende, near Halberstadt, the 1st of January 1748. 
 His father was a minister of the church. Notwith- 
 standing he possessed an excellent memory, the youth 
 failed in good- will for study. In the tenth year of 
 his age he found great difficulty in reading and writ- 
 ing fluently, and when twelve years old, he could not 
 decline the word mensa. Punishment availed nothing 
 with this idle snd pensive boy. Instead of learning, 
 lie was accustomed to wander whole days, and very 
 frequently, till an advanced hour of the night, in the 
 must solitary labyrinths of the neighbouring forest, 
 and he delighted in abandoning himself to the enjoy- 
 ment of romantic sentiments, calculated to inspire terror
 
 a. A. BURG] i I -7 
 
 The poetical tenor of his mind was. at thai period, 
 conspicuously developed m his first juvenile Essays in 
 the poetic art. 
 
 In 1760 he went to reside with his grand-father, 
 at Ascherslebcn, in order to prosecute his studies at 
 the Lyceum of that city. Here lie made bul slow progress 
 in the sciences, yet, his taste for poetry became more 
 confirmed. The raillery and insult of his school-fellows 
 were usually rewarded with keen epigrams, by which 
 he frequently excited the most hitter feeling of his 
 companions. Once, by a similar composition, respecting 
 an enormous perruque, worn by a proud .-indent of the 
 first class in the college, he had made thai individual 
 a subject of universal ridicule, and the public retribution 
 was so severe that, in 1762, his grand-father removed 
 him to the College of Halle. 
 
 Here the Poet became the intimate friend of Go- 
 kingk, and Blirger's natural talents were fostered, and 
 directed towards a noble sphere of action. The ro- 
 mantic, indolent boy appeared suddenly metamorphos- 
 ed into a youth, greedy for knowledge, full of genial 
 and joyous life, with an inexpressible goodness of heart, 
 and a susceptibility of mind which aspired to all that 
 was praise- worth}-. At the same, time he was very 
 satyrical, and endowed with many qualifications which for- 
 med a strong contradiction. At Halle, there was no
 
 128 G. A. BURGER. 
 
 want of .subjects for epigrams, and Burger, on this account 
 was continually embroiled in contentions and enmity. 
 
 Burger exchanged the College of Halle for the 
 University of the same place. Since his father's death, 
 Burger became entirely dependent on his grand -father 
 who desired that the youth should devote himself to 
 theological pursuits, but this was so foreign to his in- 
 clinations that he applied only through form, and con- 
 sequently, made but slow progress. His favourite stu- 
 dies were those writers whose works are considered 
 the models of poetry. With the most enthusiastic in- 
 dustry, he read the best ancient and modern authors, 
 and extended his knowledge of German literature. He 
 found, in the privy- counsellor Klotz a patron and a 
 friend; he introduced Burger to other individuals, of 
 congenial mind who formed a society. Here, whatever 
 mental advantages he might have acquired, Burger's 
 moral character was not improved. His conduct became, 
 daily more and more irregular, and this report having 
 reached his grand -father, he, indignantly, recalled him 
 from Halle. 
 
 The grand- son had sufficient influence over the old 
 gentleman, to obtain permission to abandon theological 
 pursuits, and devote himself to jurisprudence, at Got- 
 tingen. Burger frequented the Georgia Augusta at 
 Easter, 1768.
 
 o. a. bUbger. L29 
 
 The first six months Burger led a regular life, and 
 studied his pandects, but in a short time he returned 
 to those follies he had practised at Halle, and hecame 
 the prey of temptation, and the associate of wild com- 
 panions. When his grand -father was acquainted with 
 these circumstances, he withdrew his protection, and 
 left the young Poet to his fate. — Burger, deeply 
 in debt, and upbraided hy his conscience, was nearly 
 driven to despair. J lis better genius however gained 
 the victory; — ■ he rushed from the arms of Vice, and 
 exchanged his nocturnal orgies, for those intellectual 
 delights of the soul, which recompensed the fatherless 
 Student fir his midnight toil. By private instruction 
 he obtained his livelihood, and felt proud of his justly- 
 earned independence. With a determined perseverance, 
 he devoted his peaceful hours to the cultivation of his 
 mental powers, and again studied the ancient and mo- 
 dern poets. 
 
 At this period was formed among the students at 
 Gottingen, that poetical association which created a 
 new epoch in German literature, and which may justly 
 be denominated the Golden-age. The „Gottinger 
 Dichterbund" included in its Members, Voss, Hblty, 
 Miller, Sprcngel, Boje, the two counts of Stolberg, 
 Leisewitz, Cramer, Burger etc. The above were the 
 most celebrated Members of the „G6ttinger Dichterbund.
 
 130 G. A. BURGER. 
 
 Tlie chief aim of this society was, to accomplish that 
 which the immortal Klopstock had begun, namely, 
 to free the Genius of the German language and taste, 
 from the chains of servile imitators. With union of 
 sentiment, the members studied, deeply and critically, 
 the best models, among the Roman, Grecian, British, 
 Italian and Spanish poets. That which Lessing, Herder 
 and Gerstenberg had, with enthusiasm and perspicuity, 
 written respecting Shakespeare, assisted these noble 
 youths, to understand the greatest of all poets. Shakes- 
 peare was the Genius to whom they unanimously paid 
 their voluntary homage. Their own compositions were 
 subject to the most profound and severe criticism, which, 
 in a short time, contributed to inspire each individual 
 to give to his effusions the greatest degree of polish. 
 
 The power and influence of the „ Goltmger DicJiter- 
 buncl" was victorious, when the old school, with the 
 weapons of charlatanism, and pharisaic pedantry, at- 
 tacked the Association; a furious combat ensued, be- 
 tween the powers of mental darkness, and the powers of 
 intellectual light, but, the members of the „Gottlnger 
 Dichterbund" were crowned by nobly -gained laurels. 
 
 Burger, in a great measure is, indebted to this 
 society, for his high attainments, and for his fame, 
 a as poet. The severe yet profound critiques, especially 
 from the part of Boje, which awaited all his effusions,
 
 U. A. BUKGEB 131 
 
 were to him, an ever-goading spur which excited him 
 to give; his productions more rotundity, and a higher 
 degree of grace and harmony. 
 
 In 1772, Boje, who was minister of state in the 
 service of the King of Denmark, obtained for Burger, 
 through the intervention of the counts of Uslar, an 
 employment in the administration <>f justice, in Alten- 
 gleichen, in the principality of Walenberg. 
 
 When Burger's grand-father heard of his reforma- 
 tion , he became reconciled, paid his debts, and advanced 
 the rcqiusite security on his grand-son's installment in 
 office. Unfortunately, this money fell into the hands 
 of a swindler who retained it several years, and ul- 
 timately, ncarl) all was lost. This circumstance was 
 the foundation of Burger's ruin, and allured him into a 
 variety of troubles, from which, Death alone relieved him. 
 
 Burger's residence in the country visibly fostered 
 his poetical talents. In Altengleicheri he wrote ^Leo- 
 nora", his master -piece: this composition won the ad- 
 miration of the whole literary world. Never was any 
 production of the German genius received, with more 
 satisfaction than that poem. 
 
 In 1774 Burger married the eldest daughter of the 
 neighbouring Hanoverian employe, Leonhardt of Niedeck, 
 and, with this anion, begins the fearful tragedy of his 
 life. In forming a matrimonial alliance, his chief aim 

 
 132 (i - A. BURGER. 
 
 had been to obtain a prudent housewife, and he had 
 elected, a partner, without love. 
 
 He had but just made the propositions, when he 
 beheld, for the first time, Augusta Niedeck, then in 
 her fourteenth year, the beautiful sister of his betrothed, 
 and whom, since, he celebrated under the name of Molly. 
 A passion, the most profound, was aw r akened in either 
 heart. Instigated perchance, by a romantic, or by a 
 justifiable sense of honor, regardless of the upbraidings 
 of his conscience , Burger led to the hymenial altar , a 
 woman for whom he had never felt the sentiment of 
 love, accompanied by her fascinating sister whom he 
 secretly adored! 
 
 Henceforth the Furies appeared to hover around 
 the existence of these three ill-fated beings, and to 
 prepare for them, the most inexpressible and cruel 
 sufferings. The passion of the two lovers daily in- 
 creased, and each effort they made, to suppress its in- 
 fluence, only augmented its invincible force. Too soon 
 the wife learned the fatal secret, and too soon that 
 secret was knowu to the world! Favoured by circum- 
 stances, calumny, with a viperous tongue, invented 
 histories the most ungenerous , and stigmatized this liaison 
 of the unfortunate pair, as a crime against morality. 
 His most intimate and faithful friends defended him, 
 in vain ; they could not deny the existence of a mutual
 
 ■ ;. A. BURGER. 1 33 
 
 Love, and, in the eyea of the multitude who arc too corrupt 
 to consider such liaisons, otherwise than under the most 
 sensual forms, this avowal was almost considered equi- 
 valent to a confession of adultery! 
 
 But the voices which exclaimed: „Crucify them! 
 Crucify them!" have long been silent! With the mosl 
 profound compassion Charity will read the confessions 
 of Burger, inhispoemfc In his „Elegy" we penetrate, 
 with terror, in the abyss of this tragical liaison, and 
 reflect on that tissue of inauspicious circumstances which 
 had empoisoned his cup of life. 
 
 In 1780 as a means of ameliorating his pecuniary 
 circumstances, Burger resolved on turning his attention 
 to husbandry, and rented a farm at Appenroda. Neither 
 the Poet nor his wife had much practical knowledge 
 of economy. Both saw themselves, in a short time, 
 disappointed in their expectations, and the comfort they 
 had hoped to experience in their new avocation, was 
 soon changed into disgust. After the expiration of two 
 years, Burger abandoned the farm: in this undertaking 
 he had lost nearly all his wife's fortune, and found 
 himself in a condition, more ruinous than ever! This 
 was not his only misfortune: by the denunciation of 
 that swindler who had deprived him of the bail, given on 
 a previous occasion, by his grand -father, Burger was 
 accused, by the Hanoverian government, of having
 
 134 G. A. BURGER. 
 
 executed his functions in a negligent and unfaithful 
 
 manner. Burger justified himself from this imputation, 
 but, he who had been so deeply wounded in public 
 estimation, abandoned his employment, in 1784. 
 
 At this period, he was released from that matrimo- 
 nial tie which he had, so rashly, and so imprudently 
 contracted. Death separated him from his wife. Broken- 
 hearted by misfortune, he stood beside the grave of 
 one who had, with noble courage, and renunciation, 
 supported , during ten years , a yoke , which must have 
 proved galling to a woman who faithfully and deeply loved. 
 
 The rays of a more auspicious star now appeared 
 to dawn on the Poet. He repaired to Gottingcn, in 
 order there, to devote his leisure, entirely, to literary 
 pursuits. The editorship of the „ Almanac of the Muses" 
 {„Musenalmanaeh u ) and private instruction on the Ae- 
 sthetics of the German style gave him a sufficient, but 
 at the same time, a straitened income, and, as he 
 considered his pecuniary revenue fixed, he contracted 
 a matrimonial alliance with his beloved Augusta Niedeck 
 who had been, irresistibly, the idol of his imagination, 
 and who had unfortunately, been also the source of so 
 much anguish of soul to Burger. 
 
 The Poet was soon awakened from his dream of 
 connubial felicity. Barely were their domestic arrange- 
 ments at Gottingen completed, when Fate who had,
 
 i. .v. BURGEB 135 
 
 during ten years, separated them, blasted for ever the 
 terrestrial happiness of Burger. His youthful and beau- 
 tiful wife died in the twenty -fourth year of her age, 
 a short time after having given birth to a daughter. — 
 
 It was impossible for any mortal to feel, more 
 poignantly, a blow so cruel. With the loss of his 
 Augusta, all Burger's mental courage appeared anni- 
 hilated, and his corporeal powers seemed paralysed. 
 After having been plunged, daring several months, in 
 apathetic grief, he made an effort to arouse from de- 
 spondency; applied, anew, to study and to literary 
 employments, entered, with avidity into Kant's philo- 
 sophy, but his physical strength, shattered by bitter 
 suffering, and accumulated misfortunes, yielded. „Thc 
 spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak." He was 
 stricken and blighted, and, from that period, wandered 
 slowly, like a phantom, towards his tomb. — 
 
 In 1787 the philosophical faculty at Gottingen, 
 on the occasion of the celebration of their 50th anni- 
 versary, granted Burger the diploma of Doctor, and 
 two years later, he obtained the place of Professor 
 extraordinary, (Professor extraordinarius) without emo- 
 lument. These hopes of a better patrimony gave Bur- 
 ger the first impulsion to a long- cherished, yet secret 
 feeling of his breast, that of educating, beneath his 
 own roof, his three motherless children who had been 

 
 13G Q. A. BURGER. 
 
 placed at a distance, under the protection of relatives. 
 Alone, he found his incapacity to accomplisht his ohject, 
 and he felt the necessity of providing for the orphans, 
 a maternal guardian. The thought, so long indulged, 
 silently, in his heart, was now ripened into a resolution, 
 that of endeavoning to find a lady, worthy to become 
 his wife, and who would, at the same time, act as 
 an affectionate mother, to his three children. 
 
 Reinhard, Burger's biographer, relates that, precisely 
 at this epoch, a poem was sent to Burger, from Stutt- 
 gart, by a young lady who, from the -style of her com- 
 position, seemed to possess a highly cultivated under- 
 standing, and, at the same time, a honourable and 
 feeling heart. She professed that, the enthusiastic ad- 
 miration with which she had been inspired, by reading 
 ^Burger's Poems," had occasioned her to form the re- 
 solution of offering the author her hand, fortune and 
 heart! Burger regarded this communication, as the 
 effusion of a romantic and einpassioned fancy, and the 
 epistle became a subject of amusement to himself and 
 friends. As other letters followed, which left on the 
 minds of the readers, a still more exalted idea of the 
 writer, and the naivety, grace, and purity which ani- 
 mated each sentence, betrayed a female soul, of no 
 ordinary east, Burger, and many of his best friends 
 thought the circumstance demanded, at least, a serious
 
 a. A. Ki 'lit IKK. 137 
 
 consideration. Burger returned a poetical answer; thi.s 
 occassioned a personal acquaintance, which finally ter- 
 minated in the matrimonial alliance of the Poet with 
 the Swabian Maiden, in 171)0. 
 
 Burger's hopes of happiness, founded on events so 
 extraordinary, were alas! doomed to he disappointed. 
 At the expiration of two years, passed in domestic 
 misery, the hand of Justice freed him from a bond 
 which was become insupportable! 
 
 Henceforth no friendly ray of hope and consolation 
 illumined thu desolate Poet on his journey towards the 
 dreary tomb. — Bowed to the earth in body, and in 
 mind, abandoned by nearly all his former associates, 
 self- confidence, at length forsook him, and he was 
 accustomed to remain, during many months, shut up, 
 a close prisoner in his melancholy little study, exhaust 
 ino; the last efforts of bis intellectual and eoble soul 
 in translations from different languages; — an employ- 
 ment, miserably remunerated, but, to this occupation 
 
 submitted, in order to find the scanty means of pro- 
 longing his wearied existence! — Such was the po 
 sition of the favourite Poet of the German nation! 
 
 Burger had nol yet drained the last bitter dl 
 from the empoisoned cup of human life. This was 
 reserved in a critique of the highly- talented Schiller 
 who endeavoured to wrest from a brother-poet, laurels
 
 138 <i A. BtJRGER. 
 
 that had been so gloriously won. In tins respect, 
 Schiller acted with injustice , and little in harmony with 
 that generosity and delicacy of sentiment that charac- 
 terized Schiller's disposition. This critique appeared 
 in 1791, in the ^Literary Gazette of Jena." f„Jenaer 
 Literaturzeitung" 1791.^ Burger's violent and keen 
 reply demonstrated publicly, how profoundly he felt 
 this unexpected and cruel blow, and how deeply his 
 litterary fame was wounded! 
 
 From this period, the hour of his dissolution vi- 
 sibly approched. Burger's malady became a rapid 
 consumption, and Penury hovered o'er the bed of the 
 dying Poet! Under those heart-rending circumstances, 
 an unsolicited sum of money, bestowed by the Hano- 
 verian government, prevented Want from approaching 
 the death -bed of the immortal Burger who expired the 
 8th July, 1794. — 
 
 Burger's character, though worthy of admiration, 
 was not faultless. Even at the age of maturity, he 
 had not conquered a volatile and juvenile carelessness 
 of action, but these faults were counterbalanced by 
 numberless good qualities. To unshaken energy of mind, 
 he united a generous heart which beat, enthusiastically, 
 in the cause of humanity, and for all that was noble. 
 
 Although continually the prey of dissimulation, lie 
 had an unshaken faith in those who surrounded him,
 
 Q \ ItlRl.Ki: 189 
 
 and a breach of confidence deeply wounded him. Bii 
 was modes! in estimating his own talents, silent in the 
 convivial circle, and retiring, rather than presumptuous. 
 The cunning and volubility of the worldling were di 
 ed by Burger, yet, he was an agreeable companion, 
 and never offended by his frankness. To his friends 
 he was justly dear, on account of his sympathetic heart, 
 and he was eVer ready to administer to the misfortunes 
 of others. Towards his children he proved a most 
 affectionate father, and Burger was indefatigable in 
 forwarding the interests of his family, though the means 
 he employed were not always the most prudent. 
 
 Horn very judiciciously remarks thus: „The best 
 critique which can be made on Burger's Poems, is 
 that which his own nation has pronounced, namely, 
 that, most Germans have learned his poems by heart." — 
 As a writer of romances; he is unsurpassed, even by 
 Schiller. Burger's subjects are aever insipid, they are 
 chosen with judgment, and display vivacity, plenitude 
 ..I' thought, and originality. His songs appear the 
 pure vibrations of his breast. It has been justly re 
 marked, by many authors of eminence that, if Burger 
 had written „Le(more u old)', this composition would 
 have given him immortality.
 
 1 40 G. A. BURGER. 
 
 Biirgers principal Works are: 
 
 POEMS. Gottingen, 1778. 2nd edition 1789. 3rd, 1846. 
 
 DISSERTATION ON THE METHOD OF LEARNING THE GERMAN 
 LANGUAGE, and the art of writing inthe Universities. Gottingen 1787. 
 
 ODE ON THE FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY OF THE GEORGIA AU- 
 GUSTA. September 1787. 
 
 THE YOUTHFUL YEARS OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, writton by 
 himself, for the instruction of his son. Translated from the English. 
 Berlin, 1792. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Published by E. v. Reinhard. 2 volumes, 
 Gottingen, 1797. 
 
 BURGER'S COMPLETE WORKS. Published by C. v. Reinhard. 4 vo- 
 lumes. Gottingen, 1796. New edition, 8 volumes, 1829. 
 
 BURGER'S COMPLETE WORKS. ONE volume. Published by W. A. 
 Bohtz. Gottingen, 1835.
 
 <;. a. BUKGEfl I I 1 
 
 THE WIVES OF WEINSBURG. 
 
 (The subject of the folio-wing poem is not a fabrication of the Poet's 
 maginatfon, but delineates an authentic event recorded in the Hi 
 
 Germany.) 
 
 Weinsburg, a city, long renowned, 
 
 Know'st thou where it doth lie? 
 There many wives, and maids are found, 
 
 Of worth and piety. 
 Whene'er allied in Hymen's chain, 
 A Weinsburg- wife may I obtain! — 
 
 Conrad hostilities declared 
 
 'Gainst Weinsburg, famed so far; 
 
 The Emperor thitherward repaired, 
 With all the pomp of war; 
 
 Battalions were encamped around, 
 
 Troops, horse, and foot, marched o'er the ground.
 
 142 G- A. BURGER. 
 
 As the besieged their town defend, 
 From war's destructive flame, 
 
 A herold doth the Emperor send, 
 This message to proclaim: 
 
 „ Whene'er I pass yon walls, I swear, 
 
 No rebel shall the gallows spare ! " — 
 
 Ah! — when this proclamation dread, 
 
 The herold doth repeat, 
 In Weinsburg lamentations spread, 
 
 Echoing from street to street. 
 How dear is bread, midst din of war, 
 Yet, good advice is dearer far! — 
 
 The trembling monks exclaim, while roll 
 Warm torrents from their eye: 
 
 „Oh Lord! have mercy on my soul, 
 Alas! we soon must die; 
 
 Already, on my throat, I feel 
 
 The Emperor's avenging steel!" — 
 
 From deepest fathoms of despair, 
 
 When wisdom — prayers are vain, 
 
 How oft, from arts of woman fair, 
 Deliverance we obtain! 
 
 Priest's guile, and woman's subtlety, — 
 
 To these, oh, — what compared may be!
 
 Q. A. BURGEB 143 
 
 A youthful and enamoured bride 
 
 Who pledged her nuptial -vow, 
 
 But yeisterday, (you may deride,) 
 
 Sage counsel would bestow, — 
 Counsel on which might all rely, 
 Could she but speak, at liberty. — 
 
 Beneath the moon's auspicious ray, 
 
 Th' Ambassadresses fair, 
 Toward Conrad's camp direct their way, 
 
 And crave for mercy there: 
 They plead so gently — plead so kind. 
 Vet, ah! — this boon, alone they find: 
 
 „The Women all have egress free! — 
 With what they prize the best, 
 
 They may depart, at liberty, 
 
 The sword awaits the rest!" — 
 
 O'erwhclmed by this announcement dire, 
 
 The Deputation fair retire. — 
 
 When morn's first blush illumes the sky, 
 Lo! — Weinsburg's gates unfold, 
 
 And, with emotions of surprise, 
 The Wives do all behold, 
 
 Each, with her Husband in a sack, 
 
 True as I'm living! — pickaback. —
 
 144 U. A. BURGER. 
 
 'Mid Conrad's knights, are murmurs heard, 
 
 Against the artifice; — 
 „ Sacred should be a monarch's word. " 
 
 The Emperor Conrad cries; 
 „ Bravo! Bravo!" doth he exclaim, 
 „ God grant our wives may do the same ! a 
 
 The AVeinsburgers have pardon found, 
 
 A banquet they prepare; 
 Flute, violin, and trumpet sound, 
 
 What heart -felt joy is there! — 
 Joy felt, alike, by great and small! — 
 Broom -seller — burgomaster — all! — 
 
 Weinsburg — by chroniclers renowned, 
 Know'st thou where it doth lie? 
 
 There, wives, and beauteous maids are found, 
 Of worth, and piety. — 
 
 Whene'er I tie th' hymenial knot, 
 
 I'll choose my Wife, from that famed spot!
 
 .. \ Hi'lMiER. 1 15 
 
 COUNT CHARLES OF EICHENHORST 
 
 and , 
 
 Gertrude de Hochburg. 
 
 A BALLAD. 
 
 „Page! saddle rne the Danish steed! 
 
 Hence — hence must I depart, 
 And, from this castle ride, with speed, 
 
 To find repose of heart!" — 
 Tims cries Sir Charles — stranger to rest, 
 Presentiment o'erclouds his hreast; 
 He feels like one who, in fierce strife, 
 Has rohhed a deadly foe of life! — 
 
 He gallops off; — sparks, glittering fly, 
 
 Beneath his courser's feet; 
 Lo! Gertrude's maid, advancing nigh, 
 
 The Chevalier doth greet. 
 She seemeth like a phantom light, 
 Beguiling his astonished sight; 
 Immovcahly doth he remain, 
 And fever -flushes chafe each vein.
 
 146 G- A. BURGER. 
 
 „May God, for thee, Sir Charles, prepare 
 
 Peace and felicity! 
 A farewell -message do I bear, 
 
 From Gertrude unto thee. 
 Thou ne'er wilt claim fair Gertrude's hand! 
 Count Blunt from Pomerania's land, 
 The promise of her sire hath won, 
 And Gertrude, soon, will be his own!" — 
 
 What passions glow in Charles' breast! — 
 
 „In castle - dungeon lone, 
 Where toads and serpents form their nest, 
 
 The caitiff shall be thrown! 
 No peaceful sleep will close mine eyes, 
 Till, in his heart, my weapon lies, — 
 Till that presumptuous heart I've torn, 
 And spurned, with deep indignant scorn." 
 
 Heart-broken, to her chamber lone, 
 
 Repairs th'affianced Bride, 
 For death she prays with sigh and moan, 
 
 And, there her tears doth hide. — 
 May God who views her anguish wild, 
 Console that gentle, sorrowing child! 
 His eye surveys the rankling dart: 
 God, consolation can impart. —
 
 G \ BfRGER. 1 17 
 
 She cries: — ..I soon, through keen despair, 
 
 Shall yield, the prey of death. 
 Haste! my last salutation bear, 
 
 Ere I resign my breath! 
 Say, that from Gertrude thou dost bring 
 A farewell -gift — this golden ring, 
 And a memento from the hand 
 Of Gertrude — an embroidered band." — 
 
 Like ocean's roar, when billows rise, 
 
 The maiden's tones resound: 
 Each star seems wandering 'mid the skies, 
 
 And mountains whirl around. 
 As leaves driven on by winter's wind . 
 Thus roves, tumultuously his mind. 
 And keen despair usurps control 
 O'er Charles' agitated soul. — 
 
 „God recompense thee, faithful maid! 
 
 I, thee can never pay, 
 For that memento, now conveyed, 
 
 God will, a future day, 
 A hundred fold! — Swift as a dart, 
 Courageous maiden! — hence depart! 
 If thousand- fold her chains should be. 
 I'll set the beauteous captive fr< '
 
 148 G- A - BURGER. 
 
 „ Haste! gallop with rapidity! 
 
 I vow, I will not fail, 
 From giants' hand, to set her free, — 
 
 Yes, giants, clad in mail! 
 Tell Gertrude that, at twelve, to-night. 
 Cheered by the stars' auspicious light, 
 Beneath her window, I'll await, 
 If weal, or woe should be my fate." 
 
 „ Haste! haste thee!" — Swift, at his command. 
 
 Doth Gertrude's maid depart. 
 Upon his brow Charles clasps his hand, 
 
 How palpitates his heart! 
 Now right — now left, his steed he tarns, 
 His cheek with fever -flushes burns, 
 What thoughts conflicting chafe his mind, 
 Ere a decision he can find! — 
 
 Loud echoes the Knight's silver horn, 
 
 From tower, and balcony, 
 And swift o'er mount, vale, field of corn, 
 
 And wood, his vassals fly. 
 To each assembling swift around, 
 Charles whispers a mysterious sound: — 
 „Be vigilant, my trusty band! 
 „List to my bugle! — Be at hand!" —
 
 &. A. Bi-KGER. 149 
 
 When hill and vale are mantled o'er 
 
 By sombre shades of night, 
 And, one by one, from Hochburg's tower, 
 
 The lamps withdraw their light, 
 When each is lulled to peaceful rest, 
 Save Gertrude who, with throbbing breast, 
 And feverish thoughts that wildly rove, 
 Muses on Charles, her earliest love, — 
 
 List! list! a gently -murmuring tone 
 
 Salutes the mourner's ear: 
 „My Gertrude! my beloved one, 
 
 Thy faithful Knight is near, 
 And thy deliverer will be! 
 Time presses; oh, depart with me! 
 Securely is the ladder placed, 
 Hence, on my charger, let us haste!" — 
 
 „Ah my beloved Charles; no! no! 
 
 If hence I haste, with thee, 
 Far more profound will be my woe; 
 
 Dishonoured shall I be! 
 Yet, dearest treasure of my heart, 
 One farewell kiss before we part, 
 On earth, for ever! Soon my breath 
 Shall I resign, and welcome death!" —
 
 150 «• A. BURGEE. 
 
 Gertrude! to mine integrity 
 
 A world mayst thou confide. 
 My child! thy honour trust to me, 
 
 Mine own affianced Bride! 
 My mother's mansion shall he thine: 
 Until we stand at Hymen's shrine; 
 Oh haste! Auspicious is night's gloom , 
 To God and me resign thy doom!" — 
 
 „A haughty baron is my sire, 
 
 Proud of his dignity, 
 I tremble now before his ire, 
 
 Forbear! — This ne'er can be. 
 Revenge would chafe him, night and day. 
 Until thy life becomes his prey, — 
 Until thy heart, in bitter scorn, 
 Before his daughter's eye is torn!" — 
 
 ^Nought shall I fear, when, at my side, 
 My Gertrude have I placed; 
 
 Then East and West will open wide: — 
 Beloved, why linger? — Haste! 
 
 List! list! — What moves in yon dark spot? 
 
 Depart oh Gertrude! Tarry not, 
 
 The night hath ears; soon dawns the day; 
 
 Descend! — we're lost! — Oh, haste away!"
 
 G. A. BURGER. 151 
 
 With hesitation cloth she stand, — 
 
 Each breath her soul alarms. — 
 The Knight hath grasped her snow-white hand; 
 
 Gertrude is in his arms! — 
 While folded to his panting breast, 
 How ardently is she caressed! 
 And Heaven's benignant stars, above, 
 Witness their vows of deathless love. — 
 
 Quickly is placed, th'affianced Bride 
 
 On Charles' Polish steed: 
 As lightning Charles is at her side, 
 
 And forth he darts, with speed, 
 As on the wind's swift pinion borne! — 
 O'er his steed's saddle hangs the horn, 
 The whip and spur he now applies, 
 And, in the rear, soon Hochburg lies. — 
 
 How sensitive is midnight's ear, 
 
 To each minutest tone ! 
 A traitoress is listening near, 
 
 To whom each sound hath flown. 
 Th'insidious duenna keen, 
 Of sordid mind, and spirit mean. 
 Arises, nimbly, from her bed, 
 And echo's voice the news hath spread. —
 
 152 $• A. BURGER. 
 
 „ A wake, illustrious Baron! wake! 
 
 Depart, without delay! 
 Thy daughter's honour is at stake, 
 
 Now, now she hastes away, 
 With Charles of Eichenhorst, by night, 
 The forest -shades protect their flight; 
 Oh, tarry not Sir Knight! — Haste on! 
 The fugitive may, yet be won." — 
 
 „Forth to the rescue! — Swift repair; 
 
 Rise, noble Count! arise!" 
 Soon as the message greets his ear, 
 
 Thus Gertrude's father cries: 
 „My son, from Pomerania's land, 
 Arouse thee, sword and lance in hand! 
 From thee is stolen thy promised Bride; 
 Re -capture her! — As lightning ride!" - 
 
 'Mid twilight's gloom the lovers fly; 
 
 List! — near are tones profound, — 
 Hark! — horses are advancing nigh, 
 
 From Hochburg comes the sound. 
 The Pomeranian's rapid steed 
 Bears on the Count, with breathless speed, 
 And 'neath fair Gertrude's trembling glance, 
 Glistens the hated rival's lance! —
 
 G. A. Bl !• 
 
 „Robber of honour! halt thee here, 
 
 With thine unworthy prey! 
 Thee will I teach, with sword, and spear, 
 
 To steal a Bride away ! 
 Halt fugitive coquette! await! 
 My vengeance will 1 satiate ; 
 Thy guilty paramour and thee, 
 I doom to death, and infamy!" — 
 
 „List! — clown from Pomerania'e laud; — 
 Thou licst! — Here, I vow, 
 
 On thee, with sword, and lance, in hand, 
 A lesson I'll bestow! 
 
 Gertrude! the courser be thy care, 
 
 Dismount Sir Rustic, from thy marc; 
 
 More polished manners Learn! attend! 
 
 Instructions Til impart! descend!" — 
 
 Bow poignant Gertrude's keen despair! 
 
 She views, by morn's first light, 
 Bright sabres glistening in the air, 
 
 Clashing 'mid deadly tight. 
 On polished armour, weapons sound, 
 Awakening caverned echoes round, 
 And, o'er the rival enemies, 
 What circling clouds of dust arise!
 
 154 G. A. BURGER. 
 
 Like tempest's breath, Sir Charles' steel 
 
 Has pierced his hated foe! 
 Ah, what unbounded joy doth feel 
 
 The ardent lover now! 
 Yet, ere the Knight remounts his steed , 
 List! List! advancing, at full speed, 
 The Baron's rear- guard now appear; — 
 Behold! the vassal -train is near! — 
 
 Trara! Trara! through wood, and glade, 
 
 Charles' silver horn doth sound; 
 Like phantoms from their ambuscade, 
 
 His vassals flock around. — 
 „Halt Baron, halt! — A word with thee! 
 See'st thou yon gallant company, 
 Assembled? — ready, at my word, 
 For death, or life, to draw the sword." 
 
 ^Illustrious Baron list! that thou 
 
 Mayst have no cause to mourn. 
 Thy child and I, love's sacred vow, 
 
 Long, mutually, have sworn. 
 Oh! wilt thou sever heart from heart? — 
 Shall Gertrude's — prey to sorrow's dart, 
 Cry to the world, and God, Sir Knight? - 
 If this avails not, let us fight!"
 
 (i. A. BUBGBR. 1 55 
 
 „Reply not! — lest thy heart upbraid; 
 
 God hears the vow I swear: 
 To Gertrude, all respect I've paid. 
 
 Deny nic not my prayer! 
 Father! — bestow thy daughter's hand; 
 Heaven gave nie gold, high birth, and land; 
 Dishonour sullies not my name, — 
 I'm not unknown in deeds of fame." — 
 
 Pale as a statue — mute with woe, 
 
 Stands Gertrude near her sire; 
 Her veins, with fever -flushes glow, 
 
 How dread paternal ire! 
 Ah! what conflicting pangs she feels, 
 As, near that Sire, the suppliant kneels! 
 Though gushing tears bedim her eye, 
 His wrath she fain would pacify. — 
 
 „Father!" she cries, with accents wild, 
 
 „As thou wouldst pardoned be, 
 By God, — oh, pardon thus thy child; 
 
 Compassion show to me! 
 Compelled, unwillingly, to roam 
 From the beloved, maternal home: 
 To one I scorned, could I have given 
 Love's hallowed vow? — Forbid it Heaven!" —
 
 156 G. A. BURGER. 
 
 „How oft hast thou, when on thy knee, 
 Thine arm around me twined, 
 
 Thy heart's best treasure naming me, 
 Thy staff in life's decline! 
 
 My father, think of days gone by! 
 
 Blight not thy child's felicity! 
 
 Forgiveness, if my sire denies, 
 
 My life will be the sacrifice!" — 
 
 No sentence doth the Baron speak, 
 
 How palpitates his breast, 
 As his deep -furrowed, time -browned cheek 
 
 Upon his hand doth rest! 
 Grief clouds the father's heart and eye, 
 Yet, pride that reigns internally, 
 Forbids that Nature's tears reveal 
 All that his knightly soul doth feel. — 
 
 O'er vengeance has the father's breast 
 
 Obtained a victory: 
 Those tears the Baron long suppressed. 
 
 Gush from his haughty eye. — 
 From earth he lifts his prostrate child, 
 The tempest of his feelings wild, 
 In weeping, doth a channel find, 
 And tender passions calm his mind. —
 
 I BtTRGEB I 5 i 
 
 ..My children! — me may God forgive, 
 
 As now I pardon you! 
 My benediction oh, receive! 
 
 Affection we renew." 
 Advancing to the Count: — „My son, 
 May God approve this union! 
 My daughter I resign to thee; 
 Happy may this alliance be!" 
 
 „I give thee Gertrude willingly, 
 
 Henceforth am I thy sire; 
 Forgive — forget all enmity! 
 
 Oblivion to ire! 
 Thy father, mine inveterate foe, 
 O'erwhelmcd me, once, in bitter woe; 
 Though animosity be flown, 
 The sire, I hated, in the son!" 
 
 „Thy sire's injustice now repair, 
 
 Towards Gertrude, and to me; 
 
 That life's „good measure" I may share, 
 And owe my bliss to thee! 
 
 May God who contemplates us now! 
 
 Shower benedictions on love's vow! 
 
 Exchange my children, ring, hand, heart. 
 
 Rancour! — from memory, oh, depart!"
 
 158 <J- A. BURGER. 
 
 THE EMPEROR AND THE ABBOT. 
 
 I'll a history relate that you'll comical find, 
 Once an Emperor lived, of a humourous mind; 
 There once lived an Abbot; — how stately his mien! 
 Yet, his shepherd was far — yes, by far more keen. 
 
 Both in heat and in cold, hard the life that was led 
 By the Emperor! How oft, was war's field-camp his bed; 
 Oft, no water he gained for his brown bread, and meat, 
 And often er he suffered frost, hunger, and heat! 
 
 Better far knew the Priest, of his limbs to take care, 
 To provide dainty food, and down bed to prepare; 
 As the moon's when full, were the cheeks of the man: 
 His rubicund waist no three persons could span! — 
 
 An affray with the Abbot the Emperor desires, 
 
 And he thitherward hastes, with knights, warriors, and 
 
 squires. 
 'Mid the noon -tide heat of a hot summer's day, 
 Behold! near the abbey, the Priest they survey. —
 
 Qt, A. BURGER. 1 59 
 
 „At a moment propitious the Abbot we meet!" — 
 With satirical tone, thus the Priest doth he greet' 
 „How, thou servant of God, do times, with thee fore? 
 Ah! thou thrivest not ill, on fasting and prayer!* 4 
 
 „Yet, how tiresome , methinks, is the life thou dost live ! 
 Thou'lt be grateful if thee, some employment, I give. 
 Fame reports thee, born with perception, so clear, 
 That, as groweth the grass — that Growth canst thou hear ! K 
 
 „In thy full rosy cheek, Father! — strength does not lack, 
 So, three Nuts, as a pastime, I'll give thee to crack. 
 In three months, I command thee to clearly expound, 
 By thine erudition , these Questions profound. " — 
 
 „First; — when throned, and with splendour imperial 
 
 crowned , 
 As my ministers stand, in subjection, around, 
 Most learned of Prelates! — I'll have thee express 
 Minutely, my worth; — not a mite, more or li 
 
 „The second Enigma I'll have thee unravel: — 
 How long, round the world, will it take me to travel 
 On horse-back? — The question is pastime to thee; 
 More or less, not a trice, thine answer shall be."
 
 1G0 G- A. BURGER. 
 
 ,,Thou shalt thirdly, oh, phoenix of Abbots, declare, 
 On what subject I ponder, — yes, true to a hair 
 Shalt thou say, what I muse on, internally, 
 Though my thoughts, the reverse of the Truth shall be." 
 
 „Listen! if, to those Questions thou fail to reply, 
 Thou no longer a^jt Chief of this monastery; 
 On an ass shalt thou travel, far o'er the land, 
 In lieu of a bridle, the tail in thy hand!" — 
 
 The gay Emperor, joyously gallops away, 
 How harrowing the Abbot's distress, and dismay! 
 Never culprit at Justice' tribunal severe, 
 Feels greater anxiety , anguish , and fear. — 
 
 He consults with collegians, one, two, and three, 
 And with one, two, three four of the faculty; 
 Though emoluments liberal are willingly given, 
 Yet, the Nut's hard shell, by no doctor, is riven! — 
 
 While oppressed by research, and discouragement's prey, 
 Minutes swell into hours; — days, weeks, months pass away. 
 As the third month, at length, circles swiftly nigh, 
 Grey and yellow, each object seems to his eye. —
 
 G. A. BURGER 1 ti 1 
 
 Now the Werther, pale, care-worn, with sunk, hollow check, 
 
 Doth the forest'-s umbrageous labyrinths seek. 
 
 On a rock, seldom traversed by human feet, 
 
 The Abbot, his shepherd, Hans Bender, doth greet. — 
 
 „Oh, Sir Abbot!" cries Bender, „what troubles thee so? 
 Like a ghost, more and more, every day dost thou grow. 
 Maria and Joseph! — Oh Father! impart 
 Thy bitter affliction! What grieveth thy heart?* — 
 
 „Ah, worthy Hans Bender," to fate I'm resigned. 
 The Emperor, to vex, and bewilder my mind, 
 Three Nuts, on my teeth, has given me to crack, 
 But, to break them — e'en Beelzebub strength would lack!" 
 
 „First : — when throned, and in splendour imperial crowned, 
 While his ministers stand, in subjection around, 
 The Monarch, imperiously bids me express, 
 His worth; — not a mite either more or less," 
 
 „The second Enigma he bids me unravel: 
 How long, round the world, will it take him to travel, 
 On horse-back? — He thinks this is pastime to me: 
 Not a trice, more or less, must the answer be!" 
 
 11
 
 162 G. A. BURGER. 
 
 „I, unfortunate Abbot, must thirdly declare, 
 On what subject he ponders, — yes! true to a hair, 
 Must I tell — what thought is concealed in his breast, 
 Though 'tis distant from truth, as the East from the West!" 
 
 „If, to these deep conundrums, I fail to reply, 
 
 I , no longer am Chief of yon monastery : 
 
 On an ass must I travel, far o'er the land, 
 
 In the place of a bridle, the tail in my hand!" — 
 
 „What, no more !" doth Hans Bender exclaim, with a smile, 
 „Lend thy Nuts to thy faithful old shepherd, awhile, 
 Let thy cross, hood, and mantle to me be resigned, 
 And I vow, in a trice, the answers to find!" 
 
 * 
 
 „ Though, of Latin, and Greek, not a tittle I know ? 
 Yet, sound common -sense, Nature failed not to bestow: 
 What, for gold, you Philosophers ne'er obtained, 
 In my youth, from my excellent mother, I gained." — 
 
 Like a goat bounds the Abbot, so nimble and gay, 
 He the shepherd with cross, capuch, cap doth array, 
 And with stately mien, and devotional air, 
 Doth Hans to tlie Emperor's palace repair. —
 
 Q \. i:ii:i.!:i: It'.:; 
 
 While the Emperor, with dazzling splendour is crowned, 
 And his courtiers submissive their Monarch surround, 
 Be exclaimeth: „Sir A.bbot, calculate right, 
 And proclaim my value — yes, true to a mite! a 
 
 „For thrice ten silver coins was our Saviour betn 
 Sire! whatever thy vanity, station, or grade, 
 Less than Christ's is thy value, — this, all will confess: 
 Twenty-nine art thou worth — no1 a mite more orless." 
 
 „ Brave!" the Monarch exclaims, „thy reply may impart 
 Useful maxims, to lessen the pride of my heart: 
 Yet, ah! by my sceptre imperial, I vow, 
 Myself I esteemed not of value so low! 8 
 
 „Now, thou Flower of Abbots! I'll have thee unravel, 
 How long, round the world, will it take me, to travel, 
 On horse-back? — The question is spurt unto thee: 
 More, or less, not an instant, thine answer shall lie!- — 
 
 ..If thy courser thou mount Sire, when riseth the sun. 
 If, his faithful companion, thou journeyesl on, 
 I'll venture my crozier, capucfa — nay, more, 
 That in twice twelve bouns will th • •!« —
 
 Ift4 &. A. BURGER. 
 
 „A pre-eminent sophist!" the Emperor cries. 
 
 „In the words if and when, what deep mystery lies! 
 
 What rare qualifications these words enfold! 
 
 If and when change, verily, stubble to gold!' 
 
 !« 
 
 „Now, of question the third, unveil clearly the sense, 
 Or I vow, on an ass, will I banish thee hence! 
 I've a thought that is false: — thou most sapient of men, 
 My reflexion reveal, but discard, if and „ivhen." — 
 
 „Of St. Gall, Sire, the Abbot thou thinkest am I." — 
 „That's not far from the truth," doth the Emperor reply. — 
 „Forgive me, my Sovereign, thy thoughts are untrue; 
 Hans Bender his shepherd, in me dost thou view!" 
 
 „ Sirrah! thou not the Abbot!" the Emperor cries, 
 With incredulous accent, and look of surprise; 
 „Not the Chief of the Monastery! — Here I vow,— 
 That Abbey, on thee, I'm resolved to bestow!" 
 
 „The ring and the baton I'll place in thy hand: 
 On an ass, the late Abbot shall trot o'er the land, 
 Till the sense of quid Juris be thoroughly known; 
 Let none wish to gather before he hath sown!" —
 
 O. a. bxJrger. loo 
 
 „Forgive me, Oh Emperor!* That ne'er will sueceed, 
 For thy servant can neither write, reckon, nor read! 
 Of Latin, I nut e'en a syllable know: 
 „Hans never can gather where Hans failed to sow!" — 
 
 „At this circumstance, Bender, how much do I grieve! 
 Yet, some token of favour thou still must receive. 
 Amusement I've reaped from thy humorous vein; 
 The fruits of my gratitude thou shouldst obtain." 
 
 „I, of nought stand in need; yet, if seriously 
 Thou a boon, oh, my Sovereign ! wouldst grant unto me ; 
 Vouchsafe me that proof of munificence now: — 
 On our reverend Abbot, thy pardon bestow!" — 
 
 „Ah bravo! By lessons which thou dost impart, 
 Thou reformest the head, — thou allurest the heart! 
 To the pardon thine Emperor freely accords, 
 One Clause will he add, in the following words:" — 
 
 „By our letters imperial, henceforth we command, 
 That Hans Bender, no more 'tend the sheep, on thy land, 
 But', by thee shall be nourished gratuitously, 
 Till, in Death's calm sleep the brave shepherd doth lie. -4
 
 1GC) J- W. von GOETHE. 
 
 THE SON OF THE MUSES. 
 
 Through wood and vale I wander, 
 And, on my sonnets ponder, 
 
 At morn and eventime. 
 Oh, what internal pleasure, 
 My thoughts to write, in measure, 
 
 And all reduce to rhyme! 
 
 I wait no opening flower, 
 
 That decks field — garden — bower, 
 
 No buds that hidden lie. 
 Spring - flowerets haste to greet me: 
 When Winter's tempests meet me, 
 
 I sing of joys, flown by. 
 
 I sing of frozen fountain , 
 
 Of Alps — of polar mountain , — 
 
 Of avalanche — of snow ! 
 When Winter's charms are over, 
 New themes I still discover , 
 
 From wood — hill — valley, flow
 
 I. w von aOETHB. 107 
 
 Youth's votaries of pleasure 
 At my enlivening measure, 
 
 Flock to the linden-tree. 
 The shepherd is excited, 
 The shepherdess delighted; 
 
 They dance with heart- felt glee. 
 
 Thy Favourite doth revere thee. 
 Thy heavenly wing doth steer me 
 
 O'er mountain, vale, and plain. 
 Muse! — when shall I behold thee, 
 And , to my bosom fold thee , 
 
 Never to part again ?
 
 168 J. W. von GOETHE. 
 
 THE FLOWER OF THE FOREST. 
 
 In the forest, I ramble, 
 
 Devoid of thought, 
 Why thither I'm wandering, 
 
 And seek for nought. 
 
 'Neath cool, shady foliage, 
 
 A Flower I view, 
 As a star, brightly glowing, 
 
 Or eye of blue. 
 
 When, to pluck it, I hasten, 
 
 The Floweret cries: 
 „If thou hence, shouldst convey me, 
 
 My beauty dies!" —
 
 J. W. von UOETHE. I G'.t 
 
 The root soon is transplanted , 
 With that sweet Flower, 
 
 And removed to my garden's 
 Sheltering hower. 
 
 When in solitude, fostered, 
 And 'tended there, 
 
 New buds soon embellish 
 That Floweret fair.
 
 170 J- W. von GOETHE. 
 
 PRESERVATION FROM DEATH. 
 
 Unfaithful was the Nymph I loved, 
 
 Terrestrial joy was flown from me, 
 
 And towards a river's bank I roved; 
 
 There rushed deep waters, rapidly. — 
 
 I stand with dark, bewildered sold, 
 
 And, to despairing thoughts, a prey; 
 
 Th'impulsion barely I control, 
 
 To plunge beneath the foaming spray 
 
 List! — tones melodious echo near, — 
 I start, — I anxiously gaze round; 
 
 A silvery voice salutes mine ear: 
 
 „Beware! the river is profound!" —
 
 J. W- von GOETHE. J 71 
 
 A tremor agitates my frame, 
 
 A beauteous maiden greets mine eye; — 
 Who art thou? — „Charlotte is my name." 
 
 „How good, fair Charlotte!- I reply. 
 
 „From Death have I been saved, by thee, 
 To thee — Existence do I owe; 
 
 Yet, valueless is life, to me, 
 
 Unless thou, happiness bestow ! K 
 
 My griefs, to Charlotte 1 impart, 
 
 She lists, with modest down-cast eye: 
 
 [ press the maiden to my heart, 
 
 And scorn, by suicide, to die. 
 
 •ioeGc*
 
 JOHN LEWIS UHLAND. 
 
 John Lewis Uhland was born the 26. April, 1787, 
 at Tubingen. His grand -father Lewis Joseph Uhland 
 who was born in the year 1722, and died in 1803, 
 was a celebrated theologian in the above city. In a 
 highly respectable school at Tubingen, Uhland received 
 a classical education, and, as early as 1802, he was 
 enabled at the age of fifteen, to register himself at the 
 University, in order to assist at the preparatory studies 
 of Jurisprudence, to which he began to apply himself 
 seriously in the year 1805. 
 
 His first poetical effusions, of which we have any 
 knowledge, date from 1804. In 1808 Uhland had 
 finished his studies in jurisprudence, and was received 
 amid the number of royal solicitors, and in February 
 1810, after having publicly discussed a dissertation 
 he had written on the subject of jurisprudence, he 
 obtained the title of Dr. of Laws. Soon afterwards 
 he went to Paris, in order to study French literature,
 
 J. r,. UHLAND. 173 
 
 and at the Royal Library of that city, he particularly 
 devoted his attention to French poetry, and the ma- 
 nuscripts of the middle ages. In the spring of 1811 
 he returned to Tubingen, and applied himself to 
 various kinds of intellectual pursuits; in 1812 he went 
 to Stuttgart; here he practised as an attorney; he was 
 also employed, during a short period, in the Ministry 
 of Justice, at Wiirtemberg. 
 
 In Leo v. Seckendorfs „Musenalmanach u of 1806 
 and 1807, Uhlan d gave publicity to himself, as a poet, 
 under the name of Volkcr. In 1811, in conjunction 
 with Justinus Kerner and other young friends and poets 
 of the time, he published the „ Poetical Almanack" 
 („Poetischen Almanack." J of 1812, which appeared at 
 Heidelberg. In 1813, with the same friends, he pub- 
 lished at Tubingen the f„Deutschen Dichtericald." ) 
 
 Uhland was unsuccessful in obtaining an editor till 
 the year 1841, at this epoch a complete collection of 
 his „Poems" was published by Cotta. In 1820 a 
 second edition appeared, considerably augmented, part- 
 ly by a fragment entitled: „Fortunatus and Ids Sons", 
 and partly by patriotic effusions , composed in the year 
 1815, the period in which the late King Frederic of 
 Wiirtemberg convoked the States, in order to hold 
 consultations respecting forming a Constitution. In con- 
 sequence of this Convocation, the country obtained the
 
 174 J. L. UHLAND. 
 
 privilege of a Constitution, and the Muse of Uhlaud 
 had the satisfaction of publicly proclaiming the grate- 
 ful expression of the people's feelings which was ad- 
 dressed to the throne. 
 
 In the year 1816, having become member of the 
 National -assembly, at "Wurtembcrg, Uhlan d was, at 
 the same time, appointed member of one of the com- 
 missions. Since the year 1829 he occupied himself 
 as Professor of German literature and of ancient and mo- 
 dern languages at Tubingen, and gave his dismission 
 in 1833, because the government refused him the leave 
 of absence which he demanded, to go and occupy his 
 place iu the above assembly, but he devoted himself, 
 with renewed assiduity, to the affairs of legislation. 
 
 Nearly fifteen years had passed away, when, in April, 
 1848, Uhland charged by the Ministry of Wiirtemberg, 
 accepted his nomination as surveillant of the Conunission 
 of seventeen confidential individuals (Vertrauensmanner) 
 who were adjoined to the Germanic Confederation at 
 Frankfort. A short time afterward, in quality of mem- 
 ber of the soi-disant German Rump -parliament, he 
 took his place on the left hand in St. Paid's church, 
 Frankfort, and in the month of June, following, he 
 accompanied that Parliament to Stuttgart. 
 
 In July 1850, in quality of member of the states, 
 having been appointed one of the commissioners of the
 
 J. L. rill.AM). 1 I 5 
 
 court of Justice, al Wiirtemberg, lie gave his vote against 
 the Minister of foreign affairs, who had been put in 
 accusation by the States of Wiirtemberg. I'hland now 
 resides as a private individual, in Tubingen, his native 
 city. 
 
 Uhland's principal Works are: 
 
 LYRIC POEMS. Stuttgart and Tubingen 18U. 19th edition 1852. 9th 
 
 miniature edition 1850. 
 TREATISE ON THE POETRY of the north of France Berlin, 1812. 
 PATRIOTIC POEMS. Tubingen, 1817. 
 ERNEST DUKE of SUABIA. A Tragedy in 5 acts. Heidelburg 1818. 
 
 New edition 1839. 
 DRAMATIC POEMS. (Ernest Louis) Heidelburg, 1848. 
 POEMS. Characteristic of Der Vogelweide. 
 
 TREATISE en the I Ty story of public shooting. Tiibingen 1828. 
 MYTHOLOGICAL RESEARCHES respecting the God Thor. Published 
 
 from northern mythological History. 
 ANCIENT POPULAR SONGS. Published with notes and historical 
 
 Remarks. 2 Volumes. Stuttgart and Tiibingen. 18-15.
 
 176 J L. UHLANI>. 
 
 THE PILGRIM. 
 
 Upon Gallicia's rocky shore, 
 
 Is built a Sanctuary renowned, 
 There doth Christ's holy Mother pour 
 
 A halm for every mortal wound. 
 The desert's wanderer forlorn, 
 
 Beholds a golden star arise, — 
 For pilots, o'er wild ocean, borne, 
 
 Lo! there a friendly harbour lies. 
 
 When chime the solemn evening bells, 
 
 The tone, melodious and clear, 
 Through city, and through cloister, swells, 
 
 Reverberating far and near. 
 Then calmed is the tumultuous sea 
 
 Whose late wild waves, in ripples flow, 
 And at the rudder, on his knee, 
 
 The pilot saith his Ave now.
 
 j. l. r li lam). 177 
 
 That day on which the Holy One 
 
 Ascended towards his realm, on high, ■ — 
 When Mary, in her earthly Sun, 
 
 Acknowledged a Divinity, — 
 That day to honor, she reveals, 
 
 Within her beauteous sanctuary, 
 Such wonders, that each mortal feels 
 
 Ber presence, as in times, gone by! 
 
 In valley and umbrageous wood, 
 
 What variegated pennons fly! 
 From flower- crowned vessels, on the flood, 
 
 Flags wave, beneath a smiling sky. 
 O'er mountain -paths, from far and near, 
 
 The pilgrims haste, in vesture gay, 
 A ladder toward the Heavens appear 
 
 The crowds who mount that rugged way ! 
 
 Yet, other pilgrims follow there, 
 
 Bare-footed, and with dust o'erspread; 
 Coarse, sackcloth garments do they wear, 
 
 And sprinkle ashes on their head; 
 These, with the pious Christian, dare 
 
 To hold communion, no more, 
 The church they enter not; — their prayer 
 
 They utter at the sacred door. 
 
 12
 
 178 J- L. UIILAXD. 
 
 One, with expression of despair, 
 
 Is wandering slowly on the way, 
 Dishevelled is his waving hair, 
 
 The pilgrim's beard is long and grey, 
 An iron band, with rust o'erspread, 
 
 Encirclefh his trembling form, 
 With difficulty doth he tread, 
 
 For chains surround each foot, and arm! 
 
 A sword, raised by a brother's hand, 
 
 Once, caused a brother's blood to flow; 
 Yet, melted, it became that band, 
 
 Which, o'er the wanderer, twineth now. 
 No rest of spirit will he feel, 
 
 Till, by a miracle of Heaven, 
 The fatal ring — th'encircling steel, 
 
 From the lone penitent, is riven! 
 
 As, on his pilgrimage, he goes, 
 
 Coarse, iron sandals doth he wear, 
 Yet, from benignant Heaven flows 
 
 No solace for his keen despair. 
 From realm to region doth he stray, 
 
 And shrines unnumbered hath he found; 
 To countless statues doth he pray; — 
 
 No balm has healed his rankling wound!
 
 J. L. UULAND. 179 
 
 The chapel, on the mountain -brow, 
 
 He gains, and, at the portal kneels j 
 The vesper-bell i.s chiming now, 
 
 And, o'er the throng, deep silence steals. 
 He dares not o'er the threshold tread; 
 
 The Virgin, there, may all survey; 
 The setting sun, around her head, 
 
 Diffuseth a celestial ray. 
 
 A galaxy of golden light 
 
 Spreads o'er earth — ocean — ether blue! 
 Heaven's golden portal is in sight; 
 
 Doth man immortal Beings view? 
 From yonder cloud, of roseate dye, 
 
 Is not her star-gemmed foot-path seen? — 
 From yon clear azure canopy, 
 
 Doth Mary smile, with placid mien? — 
 
 The pilgrims hasten to their homes, 
 
 Consoled; — yet, one, with broken heart, 
 Still, near the hallowed threshold, roams, 
 
 And thence refuseth to depart. — 
 With Death's firm grasp, his heavy chains 
 
 Encircle chill Mortality, 
 Sfet, the enfranchised Spirit reigns 
 
 In Light's unfathomable Bea !
 
 180 J- h. UHLAND. 
 
 THE RING. 
 
 One morn, to a valley green 
 
 Doth a gallant Knight repair 
 
 He muses, with pensive mien, 
 
 On his absent Lady fair. — 
 
 „Gold Ring! so precious, and bright, 
 Bestowed by my Lady-love, 
 
 Oh say! — to her loyal Knight, 
 
 Doth her heart, still faithful prove?" 
 
 As he views the golden Ring, 
 With a contemplative soul, 
 
 From his finger doth it spring, 
 And along the meadow roll.
 
 J. L. LULAND. 181 
 
 The King he hastes to regain , 
 
 Alas! — it is lost to view, 
 'Mid tangled grass, on the plain, 
 
 And 'mid field-flowers, gemmed with dew. 
 
 From the bough of a linden -tree, 
 
 Doth a hawk, with piercing eyes, 
 
 Descend with rapidity, 
 
 And, in triumph, wins the prize. 
 
 As with pinion swift, through air, 
 Doth the joyous hawk ascend, 
 
 Behold! his brethren there, 
 
 For the golden Ring contend! 
 
 None hath gained the Ring, though all, 
 Would the brilliant gem obtain, 
 
 And the Knight beholds it fall 
 
 In the billowy restless main. — 
 
 To seize the bright Ring of gold 
 How swiftly the fishes glide, 
 
 Amid the waves, when, behold, 
 
 It sinks in th'unfathomcd tide! —
 
 182 J. L. UHLAND. 
 
 „0h Ring! on the grassy plain, 
 
 Thou enchantest the spring -flowers fair, 
 Oh Ring! — dost thou not enchain 
 
 The birds, as they rove through air?" 
 
 „The fish that, in ocean dwell, 
 
 Enamoured, swim after thee. — 
 
 Ring! — gift of my Charmer — tell; 
 
 Is it thus, with her love towards me?"
 
 J. L. UPLAND. 
 
 183 
 
 THE YOUNG KING AND THE SHEPHERDESS. 
 
 A BALLAD. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 'Mid blooming valleys gay, 
 
 On the flower -bespangled plain, 
 'Neath golden skies of May, 
 
 To what theme devote my strain? 
 
 Bright, clouds serenely glide, 
 
 O'er the rippling waters blue, 
 
 And gallant courtiers ride 
 
 O'er the meads, begemmed with dew. 
 
 Light, vernal branches move, 
 
 Fanning Spring's opening flowers, 
 
 And shepherdesses rove 
 
 'Mid the perfumed, rural bowers.
 
 184 J- L- UHLAND. 
 
 With courtiers at his side, 
 
 And, with silken mantle on, 
 
 Young Goldemar doth ride, 
 
 And he wears a golden crown. 
 
 The graceful King, with speed 
 
 Alights, and in pensive mood, 
 
 To a tree he hinds his steed 
 
 And wanders through the wood. 
 
 In cool, refreshing bowers, 
 
 From clustering spray to spray, 
 
 'Mid odoriferous flowers, 
 
 Sings many a songster gay. 
 
 Why bloom the flowerets? — Why 
 Do the warblers sweetly sing? — 
 
 A shepherdess doth lie 
 
 By yon cool, refreshing spring! — 
 
 Goldemar, moving near, 
 
 Through the linden -trees doth glide. 
 The timid lambs, in fear, 
 
 Flock to the shepherdess' side. —
 
 J. L. UHLAND. 185 
 
 „ Welcome! — welcome to thee, 
 
 Oh, thou courteous, beauteous maid! 
 
 Afflicted shall I be, 
 
 If thou, dost feel afraid !« — 
 
 „That I am not afraid, 
 
 Do I pledge my sacred word; 
 Methought, amid the shade, 
 
 Fluttered a volatile bird." 
 
 „Fair maid! — if thou wouldst give 
 A refreshing draught to me, 
 
 The flask would I receive, 
 
 As a valued gift from thee." — 
 
 „Of water, from my flask, 
 
 That from yonder well I bring, 
 
 All may partake who ask, 
 
 Yes — e'en the mightiest King!* — 
 
 For water, from the brook, 
 
 Doth the beauteous maiden haste, 
 How tender is his look, 
 
 As the draught the Knight doth taste 
 

 
 186 J. L. UHLAND. 
 
 He saith, by love o'ercome: 
 „How beautiful art thou! 
 
 Thou art fair as flowers that bloom, 
 On the verdure round thee now." 
 
 „Such fascination flows 
 
 O'er each look, and word of thine, 
 That all would thee suppose, 
 
 Sprung from a royal line." — 
 
 „My shepherd -sire can tell, 
 
 If a monarch he were born; 
 
 My mother knows, full well, 
 
 If a crown her brow adorn." — 
 
 Around her form, so fair, 
 
 Is Goldemar's mantle placed, 
 
 And, the Maiden's nut-brown hair 
 Is with regal chaplet graced! 
 
 She crieth proudly: „Now, 
 
 Ye trees, and ye flowerets, all, 
 
 Ye sheep, and lambkins bow, 
 
 And, humbly before me fall!"
 
 J. L. OIL AND. 187 
 
 That vest and golden crown, 
 
 She returns with playful look, 
 By Goldemar are thrown 
 
 In the crystal murmuring, brook. — 
 
 „Yon crown, a true love's token, 
 
 WiU I demand again, 
 When many a lance I've broken, 
 
 On a distant battle- plain." 
 
 „Full sixteen years, or more, 
 
 Has my King, in chains been lying, 
 While, on my native shore, 
 
 Is a foeman's pennon flying." 
 
 „I'U free my King's domains, 
 
 By the aid of gallant knights ; 
 
 I'll break the Captive's chains, 
 
 He shall, yet, feel Spring's delights!- 
 
 „I haste to the battle- plain; — 
 When achieved the victory, 
 
 Say! — from yon brook again, 
 
 Cool draughts may I ask of thee?"
 
 188 J - L - UHLAND. 
 
 „Long as the stream doth flow, 
 
 Thee, water refreshing I'll give, 
 
 And brilliant as now, 
 
 Thou again that crown shalt receive." 
 
 My first song all have heard, 
 
 And my last I soon shall sing; 
 
 From the arbour flies a bird, 
 
 Whither doth glide his wing!
 
 J. L. 1I1LAND. 
 
 !>'.! 
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 I'll sing, in my final lay, 
 
 Of trumpet, sword, and spear, 
 
 While resoundeth music gay , 
 
 And larks' notes greet mine ear. 
 
 To thee I'll relate and sing, 
 
 Of warfare — slaughter — death, 
 
 Though I see flowers — trees — that Spring 
 Awakes with fostering breath. 
 
 Young Goldemar, — who saith nay? 
 
 The victor's laurels gains, 
 And is first, in circles gay, 
 
 Where peerless Beauty reigns.
 
 190 J- L- UHLAND. 
 
 The castle is bravely, won 
 
 His pennon floateth there; 
 
 From the tower, so drear and lone, 
 His Monarch doth he bear! — 
 
 „Oh, thou sun, enthroned in glory! 
 
 Thou mountain, tinged with gold! 
 Ye are youthful still! How hoary, 
 
 Am I become, and old!" — 
 
 To festivities and ball, 
 
 The champions repair, 
 Yet, who enumerate all 
 
 The guests assembled there! 
 
 If, to sit amid that throng, 
 
 The honour had been mine, 
 
 Forgotten had been guests — song, 
 Where flowed such luscious wine! 
 
 „A tournament will I give," 
 
 The King, to Goldemar cries; 
 
 „What guerdon shall receive 
 
 The Champion, as a prize?"
 
 J. L. IIILAND. 191 
 
 ^Illustrious King!" he replies, 
 
 „Not spur — not helmel bright, 
 
 But grant that the victor's prize, 
 
 Be a Crook and Lambkin white!" — 
 
 A prize that, in days of old, 
 Strove shepherds to obtain, 
 
 Now, a host of heroes bold, 
 
 With sword and lance would gain. 
 
 Lo! Goldcmar, the Renowned, 
 
 Proves the victorious knight, 
 
 And wins by the trumpet's sound, 
 
 The Crook and Lambkin white! — 
 
 „I would, oh, thou gallant knight," 
 
 The aged Monarch cries, 
 » That, at tournament, thou fight 
 
 For a far more costly prize." 
 
 „Not of trifling worth, or mean, 
 The prize that may be won ! 
 
 By the hand of Beauty's Queen, — 
 
 My own — my golden Crown!" -
 
 
 192 J. L- UHLAND. 
 
 As the trumpets' echoes sound, 
 
 What ardour fires each breast! 
 
 Yet, is G-oldemar victor found, 
 
 Though each performs his best. 
 
 While many a gallant knight, 
 And lady fair stand nigh, 
 
 Doth the courteous King invite 
 The Flower of Chivalry. 
 
 Brave Goldemar forth doth ride, 
 
 With shepherd's Crook, in hand, — 
 
 With a Lambkin at his side, 
 Led by a rosy band. 
 
 Saith the Monarch: „A11 will own, 
 Thy prize is far from mean ; 
 
 I award my golden crown , 
 
 From the hand of Beauty's Queen!" 
 
 He moves, with emotion gay, 
 
 The veil that the Queen doth hide, 
 Ah! Goldemar' s glance doth stray, 
 
 His eye is turned aside.
 
 J. L. UHLAND. 193 
 
 „By no crown's imposing glare, — 
 
 By no queen my love is won; 
 A Shepherdess, young and fair, 
 
 Reigns o'er this heart alone!" — 
 
 „To a Maid that far hence doth dwell 
 111 give Crook, Lamb, and heart; 
 
 God preserve thee! — Fare thee well! 
 To the vale 1 now depart!" — 
 
 Hark! — what harmonious strain 
 Salutes his ravished ear, 
 
 Like birds, on th'enamelled plain, 
 Warbling near brooklets clear! 
 
 His eye doth Groldemar raise, 
 
 Before him, — who doth stand? 
 
 A Shepherdess meets his gaze, 
 
 With golden Crown, in hand! — 
 
 „To the palace of my father, 
 A welcome thee I give! 
 
 Or, say! — would Goldeinar rather. 
 In yonder valley live?*
 
 194 J- L- UHLAND. 
 
 „I confer this Crown on thee, 
 
 Once, placed within my hands; 
 
 And I pay, with usury, 
 
 The Sovereign of two lands!" - 
 
 Soon, mutually is plighted 
 
 Love's everlasting vow. — 
 
 The Lovers are united; 
 
 My song is finished now.
 
 J. L. DHLAND. 195 
 
 HA1IALD. 
 
 In sombre wood, at eventide, 
 
 By Lima's silvery light, 
 Brave Harald, the Renowned, doth ride, 
 
 With many a valiant knight, 
 
 Who proudly, hard-earned pennons bring, 
 
 That through the forest wave: 
 The echoing war- songs that they sing 
 
 Sound through each mountain -cave. — 
 
 What glides, by stealth, from yonder bush? 
 
 What flutters in yon tree? 
 What, from the clouds, doth hither rush 
 
 Amid the foaming sea? 
 
 Who mounts our steeds, and o'er us, fair 
 
 And odorous garlands flings? 
 What Beings sing 'neath moon -beams there, 
 
 And dance in dizzy rings?
 
 |96 J- L - UHLAND. 
 
 Who amorously thus doth play, 
 And nestle on our breast? 
 
 Who gently takes our sword away, 
 And leaves us, void of rest? — 
 
 The Elfin -race their charm have spread, 
 Their power can none withstand; 
 
 The celebrated Knights are led, 
 Captives in Fairy -land! — 
 
 'Gainst one — the Flower- of -chivalry, 
 
 Their fascinations fail; 
 Impregnably incased is he 
 
 In stalworth coat of mail. 
 
 His comrades are the Fairies' prey. 
 Despoiled of sword and shield! 
 
 Their horses wildly dart away, 
 
 O'er mountain, wood, and field. — 
 
 In melancholy, pensive mood, 
 
 Rides Harald, the proud Knight; 
 
 Brave Harald roves through yon wide wood, 
 'Neath Lima's mournful light.
 
 J. L. UHLAND. 197 
 
 From an o'erhanging rock doth flow 
 
 A crystal streamlet fair; 
 He takes his helmet from his brow, 
 
 And quaffs with ardour there. 
 
 Barely is feverish thirst suppressed, 
 
 When cramped feel arm and knee, 
 And, on the rock doth Harald rest, 
 
 O'erpowered by lethargy! 
 
 Hundreds of years doth Harald rest 
 
 On that cold marble -stone; 
 His head reclines upon his breast, 
 
 Grey, beard and hair are grown. — 
 
 When, o'er that rock doth thunder roll, — 
 
 When vivid lightning gleams, 
 He grasps his sword — still brave of soul, 
 
 'Mid troubled fairy -dreams. 

 
 198 J- L. UHLAND. 
 
 THE ROSY GARLAND. 
 
 In the luxuriant meadow bright, 
 
 Adorned with loveliest gifts of May, 
 Strive many an illustrious knight 
 
 To win Spring's rosy chaplet gay. 
 Flowers odoriferous, on the plain 
 
 The knights refrain to gather there; 
 May's blooming Prize would each obtain, 
 
 As gallant knight, from lady fair. 
 
 Within the foliage of a bower, 
 
 In tranquil beauty, sitteth one 
 Who seemeth an expanding flower, 
 
 Opening her petals to the sun. 
 Bright, full-blown roses there entwine, 
 
 In fragrant garlands, o'er her head, 
 Where she reposes doth the vine, 
 
 Her purple, luscious cluster spread.
 
 J. L. L11LAND 199 
 
 Equipped in armour, doth advance, 
 
 Upon a time-worn steed, a Knight; 
 How listlessly he hears the lance! 
 
 Doth slmnher overpower his sight? — 
 O'er pallid cheeks, his beard doth flow, 
 
 How feebly is the bridle pressed! 
 Lo! suddenly he starteth now, 
 
 Like one, aroused from troubled rest. — 
 
 „My salutations oh, receive, 
 
 Thou beauteous Lady! — champions bold! 
 If I might dare, what bliss 'twould give, 
 
 To age — youth's pleasure to belx>M! 
 A gallant knight would I demand 
 
 To break a sword, or lance, with me, 
 But ah! — how trembleth now my hand, 
 
 And how enfeebled is my knee!" 
 
 „'Mid pastimes such as those I see, 
 
 I am grown old — to age I yield; 
 My coat of mail encircles me, 
 
 Firm as a dragon's scaly shield! 
 By land, strife, hardship, gory wound, 
 
 By sea, o'erwhelming storm, and wind; 
 Repose, — one year, alone, I found, 
 
 When, in a dungeon drear, confined. u 

 
 200 J. L. UHLAND. 
 
 „I know not, love's endearing sound, 
 
 The rapturous day — night's sacred rest; 
 Thou — - thou right hand, by toil embrowned, 
 
 Fair woman's hand hast never pressed ! — 
 In youth's gay season, from this vale, 
 
 Was yonder Flower of Beauty far; 
 To-day, her presence do I hail, 
 
 As a bright, new -created star! 1 * 1 
 
 „If youth, again, to me, were given, 
 
 I would attune the golden string, 
 Bask 'neath joy's pinion of Heaven, 
 
 And love's gay sonnets would I sing. 
 At thy gay festival oh May! 
 
 Upon the flower -enamelled plain, 
 What energy would I display, 
 
 May's rosy Garland to obtain!" 
 
 „Too soon was life bestowed on me! 
 
 Now, now begins the golden time, 
 Vanished is hate and jealousy, 
 
 Fair Spring is ever in her prime. 
 With rosy Garland, will she bloom, 
 
 The Queen of Beauty, loved by all, 
 While o'er me, closes Death's cold tomb; - 
 
 Hark! — hark! — I hear the grave -stone fall!*'
 
 J. L. UHLAKD. 2Ul 
 
 Ku.h Btands transfixed, while suddenly, 
 
 The Knight's faint accents cease to flow. 
 How blanched his cheek! — Closed is that eye, 
 
 g ee ! — on his horse, he trembles now! — 
 A host of gallant knights flock round, 
 
 And lav him on a flowery bed; 
 Alas! — no balsam heals the wound, 
 
 No soothing voice awakes the dead. — 
 
 The Maiden, from her flower- crowned height, 
 With rosy chaplet glideth now, 
 
 She gently kneels beside the Knight, 
 
 And twines the Garland o'er his brow: 
 
 -Honour to May's illustrious King! 
 
 How far Renown thy tame hath spread! 
 
 Yet ah! May's Coronet of Spring- 
 Bestows no pleasure on the Dead." 

 
 202 J- C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 THE WORDS OF FAITH. 
 
 I will mention three Words, of sense profound, 
 
 From lip unto lip do they fly, 
 Yet, they live not in vague, external sound; 
 
 In each heart doth the Oracle lie: 
 Man's intrinsic worth is, for ever, veiled o'er, 
 When, in these three Words, he believes no more. 
 
 Each man is created a Being free, 
 
 Though horn in vile slavery's chain; 
 
 May the tones of the crowd allure nut thee, 
 E'er the voice of the fool disdain. 
 
 Tremble not at the slave who rendeth his band, 
 
 And before Freedom's son, undauntedly stand! 
 
 Virtue is not a re-echoing tone, 
 
 Virtue reins each lawless desire; 
 Though Life's path be arduous, rugged and lone, 
 
 To the God-like should man aspire. 
 What the lore of philosophers ne'er unfolds, 
 The pure eye of Innocence clearly beholds.
 
 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 203 
 
 God exists: — th'l inimitable and Sublime; 
 
 Man's statutes, like cbafT, pass away. 
 God reigns o'er spaee, o'er eternity — time, 
 
 With omnipotent, boundless sway. 
 Though the spheres, in e'er changing circles, may roll, 
 One calm, changeless Spirit directeth the whole! — 
 
 In these Words, let thy soul have faith profound, 
 
 May they echo from race to race! 
 From thy heart's recess wilt thou hear the sound, 
 
 In externals , seek not their trace. 
 Man's value intrinsic is ever veiled o'er, 
 "When, the Words of Faith, he believes no more.
 
 204 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 THE PARTITION OF THE EARTH. 
 
 „Take ye the World!" cried Jove, from Heaven's, bright 
 
 throne, 
 
 „0h mortals! — ye are Earth's eternal heirs! 
 Earth's treasures numberless are now your own, 
 
 Yet, with fraternal love, divide the shares!" — 
 
 Both young and aged, as a living tide, 
 
 Haste to partake of what they most desire: 
 
 The Farmer, with the fields, is satisfied, 
 
 The forest, game, and wood delight the Squire. 
 
 What stores the Merchant's warehouses display! 
 
 The Abbot claims the Earth's most luscious wine, 
 The King, on road, and bridge, doth tribute lay, 
 
 And thus proclaims: „The toll of all is mine!" — 
 
 Long after each a liberal prize hath found, 
 
 The Poet, from afar, comes listlessly. 
 To claim his portion. Long he gazes round , 
 
 Alas! no heritage can he descry. —
 
 J. C. B 1 . von SOHILLEK. 205 
 
 „Ali! why should I, thy most devoted son, 
 Alone, have no memento of thy love?" 
 
 The Minstrel cries, with supplicating tone, 
 
 And kneels hefore th'Olympian throne of Jove. 
 
 The God replies: -My son! if thou hast strayed 
 In Fancy's hind of dreams, reproach not inc. 
 
 When the. partition of the Earth was made. 
 
 Where wast thou?" — „Father Jove! I was withth 
 
 „Mine eye was dazzled by thy glorious light , 
 Mine ear enraptured by Heaven's harmony; 
 
 Forgive, if, in Olympus' region bright, 
 
 I had forgotten, Earth had charms for me." — 
 
 Jove saith: „No longer Earth is mine, my son; 
 
 Her harvests, forests — markets, all are given, 
 Yet, if, with me, thoult dwell beside my throne, 
 
 To thee shall ne'er be closed the gates of Heaven."
 
 200 J- C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 COLUMBUS. 
 
 Steer, thou Mariner brave, and despise the satirical 
 critic ! 
 Sail thou forth, though the helm fall from the 
 pilot's tired hand. 
 Onward! on towards the West! In the West must the 
 coast be discovered; 
 Now, to Intellect's eye, — now, the New World 
 doth appear! 
 Trust a protecting God, and glide o'er the billowy- 
 ocean, 
 If thou perceive not the land, soon, from the 
 deep will it rise! — 
 Genius and Nature are bound in a compact, firm and 
 eternal ; 
 Genius discovers the path, — Nature awardeth 
 the prize.
 
 ,1 C. 1'. von SCHILLER. 207 
 
 ULYSSES. 
 
 O'er profound billows he roves, but his fatherland's 
 shore doth not greet him, 
 Scylla's peril defies, steers by Charybdes' dark 
 gulph, 
 Sails o'er tempestuous seas, and, by land is, by danger, 
 surrounded, 
 E'en unto Hades' realm, Fate guides the Wan- 
 derer's feet. — 
 Now, by deep slumber o'erpowered, to his Ithica's 
 coast is he wafted; — 
 Waking, the isle he surveys, — gazes, but knows 
 not his home! 
 
 — •so^Xr.os*
 
 HENRY HEINE. 
 
 Henry Heine was born December the 12th, 1799, 
 at Diisseldorf. His father, Sampson Heine, an Isra- 
 elitish merchant, at a later period, fixed on Lnneburg, 
 as a place of residence, and still lived there in 1825. 
 His mother, born in Geldern, was a Christian. Des- 
 tined, and educated for commercial pursuits, Henry 
 Heine was occupied, during some time, as clerk, in 
 a mercantile house at Hamburg; however, an irresist- 
 ible sentiment impelled him towards the study of the 
 sciences, and he went to the University of Bonn, 
 Berlin, and Gottingen, where he studied jurisprudence, 
 more especially at the latter University, where, envi- 
 roned by pedantry, and crudity, and subject to a ri- 
 gid devotion to antique customs , strictly observed by 
 professors, and exposed, at the same time, to the de- 
 moralizing life of a student, Heine learned to fathom 
 the strength of his genius, and took his degrees as 
 Dr. of Laws.
 
 ir. heine. 209 
 
 Tlie 29 th of July, the same year, he embraced 
 Christianity, and afterwards, travelled in Italy and Eng- 
 land, and, from that period, he alternately, resided in 
 Munich, Berlin, and Hamburg, but, since the revolu- 
 tion of July 1830, he chose Paris, as a fixed resi- 
 dence. When, in 1835, the German Confederation 
 interdicted the sale of all the literary publications of 
 „Toung Germany," and even menaced with grave pu- 
 nishment, the readers of such works, the bitterness of 
 this prohibition first alighted on Heine, as being the 
 chief of that literary society. He endeavoured to libe- 
 rate himself from the prohibition , by a letter inserted 
 in the n Journal ctes Debats" January the 28 th, 1830, 
 reproduced in no. 41 of the „Gazette (TAugsbourg" of 
 the same year. 
 
 From 183(5 till the dissolution of the Guizot mi- 
 nistry, on the 22 nd February 1848, Heine obtained, 
 from the secret funds, an annual allowance of four 
 thousand francs. By his own declaration, dated the 
 loth May, 18-18, he who had always acted with so 
 much ostentation, as the champion of European liberty, 
 endeavoured, but with little success, to defend him- 
 self against the accusation, of having sold his pen to 
 the Orleans dynasty. In an article on the official do- 
 cuments, published April 1848, in the „Revue retro- 
 spective" this sum was stated to be thirty two thou- 
 
 1 1
 
 210 II. HEINE. 
 
 sand francs. In the above mentioned declaration, he 
 thus writes: „The first journalist who may chance to 
 apply to me, is not the guardian of my honour, the 
 only tribunal of which is the judgment -hall of literary 
 history. The pecuniary assistance which I have receiv- 
 ed from the Gkrizot ministry, was not a salary, but a 
 donation, call the gift by its right name; it was a 
 liberal act of munificence, such as the French people 
 have been accustomed to give to countless strangers 
 who have, more or less, gloriously committed them- 
 selves in their own country, by an enthusiastic zeal for 
 the Revolution, and who have sought an asylum on 
 the hospitable soil of France." 
 
 It may here be remarked that, the Chamber of 
 Deputies, in the reign of Louis Philippe, voted the 
 sum of two hundred thousand francs, for the benefit of 
 refugees of all the countries of Europe; yet, the French 
 government did not assign to each individual the sum 
 of thirty tiro thousand right hundred francs. The Ger- 
 mans cannot boast of having largely participated in 
 these funds: one alone, Dr. T.Schuster, formerly pro- 
 fessor at Gottingen, participated in the bounty: during 
 five years he received thirty francs per month. Others, 
 among whom may be enumerated, Borne, de Rochow 
 Dr. G.Maurer, J. Yenedey, Ch. Marx etc. never received 
 any thing, as the ministerial registers can prove.
 
 II. HEINE. 21 1 
 
 From the winter of 1843 til] 1H14 Heine, for the 
 last time, visited Germany, and he has given details 
 respecting his journey, in a work, entitled, „Wtnter- 
 marchen". During the last few years, he has been 
 subject to violent attacks of rheumatism, which, never- 
 theless, do not prevent him from following his ocenpa 
 tions, and publishing books. Henry Heine's iasl work, 
 „Romanzero ," contains some spirited pieces, but they 
 are chiefly remarkable for a severely cynical style. 
 
 By the Pamphlet -which H. Heine wrote against 
 Borne, he created himself as many enemies, as there 
 are honourable men in Germany. No author has, ever 
 before, slandered, in so cynical a manner another author 
 who is, in point of talent, the erpial of his traduccr, 
 and perchance, his superior in morality and sincerity. 
 
 It is but justice to remark that, few poets under- 
 stood the art of clothing their poetical effusions with 
 more grace, good taste and simplicity than II. Heine; 
 1 > nt too frequently, he misapplied thai talenl with which 
 Nature had so liberally endowed him.
 
 212 H. HEINE. 
 
 Henry Heine's chief Works are: 
 
 LYRIC POEMS. 1822. 
 
 TRAGEDIES, containing „WMiam Ratcliff." — ^Almansor." 1823. 
 
 A VOLUME OF SONGS. 1827. 
 
 TRAVELS. 4 Volumes 1826. 
 
 A TREATISE on modern German Literature. 2 Volumes. 1833. 
 
 THE STATE OF FRANCE. 1833. 
 
 THE SALON. 2 Volumes. 1834, 
 
 THE ROMANTIC SCHOOL. 1836. 
 
 THE SYCOPHANT. (Written against Menzel.) 1837. 
 
 CERVANTES' DON QULXOTE, with the Author's life. Translated from 
 
 Viardot. 2 Volumes. 1837. 
 THE MOST REMARKABLE "WOMEN IN SHAKESPEARE'S WORKS. 
 
 1837. 
 THE MIRROR of SUABIA. 1839. 
 A PAMPHLET AGALNST BORNE. 1840. 
 NEW POEMS. 1844. 
 
 ATTA TROLL. The dream of a Summer's night. 1847. 
 ROMANZERO. 1851. 
 DR. FAUST. A humourous poem. 1851. 

 
 II. HEINE. 218 
 
 COUNT OLAF. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 By yonder grey cathedral- gate, 
 
 Two men, in scarlet vests, appear; 
 
 The King doth, at the portal, wait, 
 His executioner stands near. 
 
 The King saith: „Tlie priest's psalms reveal 
 That plighted is the marriage- vow; 
 
 lie ready, with thy sharpened steel, 
 
 To strike a firm, unerring blow!" — 
 
 The bells now peal, in measures gay, 
 
 Dense crowds, from the cathedral glide, 
 
 And, decked in nuptial array, 
 
 Depart the Bridegroom and the Bride. - 
 
 Dejected — pale as wintery snow , 
 
 Behold the Monarch's Daughter fair; 
 
 Triumph is stamped on Olaf's brow, 
 
 Joy's glowing flush is mantling there.
 
 214 II HEINE 
 
 Iff saith unto the King severe, 
 
 While rosy .smiles his lip o'erspread : 
 w Good morning, royal Father dear; 
 
 Olaf, to-day, resigns his head!" 
 
 „To me, one boon accord, I pray! 
 
 Till midnight grant that I may live, 
 To celebrate my bridal -day; 
 
 A nuptial banquet would I give." — 
 
 Oh, let me live, I thee implore, 
 
 Till the last solemn hour of night, — 
 
 Till the last festive dance is o'er, 
 
 And emptied is each goblet bright!" — 
 
 The stern King saith: „My kinsman's prayer, 
 I grant, till midnight, willingly, 
 
 Then, headsman! - hitherward repair. 
 And sharpened let thy weapon be!"
 
 II. HEINE 2 1 
 
 C Win ii: 
 
 Luscious wine, at the banquet, doth Olaf sip, 
 
 While the last sparkling vase he bears to his lip, 
 With stifled tone, and tremblingly, 
 His young and beauteous Wife doth cry: 
 
 „The executioner stands at the door! a 
 
 How wildly the Count, until midnight hour, 
 Leads his Bride through the dance, on the marble floor! 
 The tapers brilliantly glow , 
 In the last maze they circle now, - 
 The executioner stands at the doorl 
 
 Violins diffuse joy's voluptuous sound, 
 
 And flutes emit sighs, plaintive, tender, profound! 
 
 All who that youthful Pair survey, 
 
 To keen affliction arc a prey, — 
 The executioner stands at the door! 
 
 Through the festive hall, as the dancers still glide. 
 
 Thus whispers the Count to his pale, young Bride: 
 „Thou knowest not my love to thee, — 
 Sombre and cold my tomb will be!* — 
 
 The executioner stands at the door!
 
 21G 
 
 canto in. 
 
 „Count Olaf, it is midnight now, 
 
 Thy life must thou resign! 
 To thee a King's Child pledged her vow, 
 
 A Princess has been thine!" — 
 
 Monks utter long funereal prayers, 
 
 The man, in scarlet frock, 
 Equipped with axe of death, appears, 
 
 Beside the sombre block. — 
 
 Count Olaf moves, with brow serene, — 
 'Mid guards, with glistening swords; 
 
 While smiles, on his proud lip, are seen, 
 He speaks these farewell words: — 
 
 „I bless the sun, and Luna fair, 
 
 And the stars amid Heaven's dome, 
 
 I bless the warblers of the air, 
 
 That, in realms ethereal roam."
 
 II. HEINE. 21 7 
 
 „I bless land, ocean, meadows gay, 
 
 And the Bpring- flowers, gemmed with dew. 
 
 I bless the violets, bright are they 
 
 As my young Wife's eye of blue. u 
 
 Mild azure eyes! — I bless you now, 
 
 Though, by you, I lose my life. 
 That tree 'neath which we pledged love's vow, 
 
 Do I bless, — oh, my beauteous Wife!"
 
 218 II HEINE. 
 
 TO MY BELOVED. 
 
 A I early morn is sent by ine, 
 
 The forest Violet of spring; 
 At twilight's gentle hour, to thee, 
 
 An odoriferous Rose I bring. — 
 
 What, emblematically say 
 
 The blushing Rose, and Violet bright? 
 That thou shouldst faithful prove, by day: 
 
 And love me tenderly, by night.
 
 II. HEINE 21 9 
 
 CATHARIM. 
 
 A gentle star illumes my sombre night ; 
 How vivifying that celestial light! 
 Existence new is promised, from afar; 
 
 Deceive not ■ — beauteous star! — 
 
 As, towards the moon, swells tlie impetuous sea, 
 Thus my calm, joyous soul would rush to thee; 
 Thy ray sheds consolation, from afar; 
 Deceive not — beauteous star! —
 
 220 H. HEINE. 
 
 BERTRAND DE BORN. 
 
 What traces deep, of thought profound, 
 Thine intellectual brow adorn! 
 
 Each heart hast thou, in fetters bound, 
 Oh, Troubadour, — Bertrand de Born! 
 
 The lions of Plantagenet 
 
 Were tamed by thy harmonious tones, 
 Lured was the daughter in thy net, — 
 Thy thrilling notes subdued the sons. 
 
 Tears dimmed the haughty father's eye, 
 To tenderness was changed his scorn, 
 By thy bewitching minstrelsy, 
 
 Thou Troubadour — Bertrand de Born!
 
 II. HEINE 221 
 
 THE YOUNG QUEEN. 
 
 Once on a time there lived a King, 
 Splenetic with the cares of life, 
 
 And this infir m and grey -haired King 
 Espoused a youthful Wife. 
 
 A gentle Page, of graceful mien, 
 
 With spirit light, and gulden hair. 
 Attended on that beauteous Queen, 
 Her silken train to bear. — 
 
 An ancient legend shall I tell? 
 
 Tender, yet sad, the history! — 
 The Page and Lady loved too well, 
 And both were doomed to die!
 
 222 H. HEINE. 
 
 THE WATER-SPRITES. 
 
 Gently murmur the waves, beneath Luna's light, 
 Near the shore, sequestered and wild, 
 
 And there, lulled to slumber, reposes a Knight, 
 With romantic, gay dreams beguiled. — 
 
 Veiled in drapery light, groups of Sea -sprites fair 
 
 Rise from mystic caves, in the deep, 
 And glide, with rapidity, through the air, 
 
 Towards the Knight, they believe asleep. 
 
 One inspects, with intense curiosity, 
 
 His helmet, and smooths with her hand, 
 
 The feathers: — one Sprite gently nestled doth lie 
 On his ribbon, and martial band. 
 
 ( hie Nymph draws, from the scabbard, his weapon bright, 
 
 And, while pleasure illumes her eye, 
 On the sword she reclines, and smiles on the Knight. 
 
 Who, unconsciously, seems t<> lie.
 
 H. HEINE. -_■> 
 
 One, around him, playfully dancing, doth move, 
 
 With a Sea-sprite's magical grace, 
 And she whispers: „Oh, would I could win thy love, 
 
 Thou Flower of the human race!" 
 
 One Sea-nymph., less timorous hy far, than the rest, 
 
 Has gently saluted his hand. 
 One hesitates; - - now, lip and check hath she pressed, 
 
 While slumbers the Knight, on the sand. — 
 
 As the crystal waves glide, with a rippling sound, 
 'Neath the moon's pure, unclouded ray, 
 
 The young Knight still affecteth a slumber profound, 
 While fair Water - sprites homage pay.
 
 224 J- W. von GOETHE. 
 
 SELF-DECEPTION. 
 
 The curtain, at my Neighbour's there, 
 Is fluttering to and fro ; 
 No doubt that the suspicious fair 
 Is watching where I go. 
 
 Perchance she feels that jealousy 
 'Neath which I writhe, to-day, 
 
 And is, as now she ought to be, 
 To torturing doubt , a prey ! — 
 
 Alas ! alas ! the beauteous Child 
 
 Knows nought of pangs, like these; 
 
 Yon curtain, (how am I beguiled!) 
 Is fanned by evening's breeze.
 
 j. w. vmi aoETHB. 225 
 
 DKllA NATION OF WAR. 
 
 Oh, would that 1 could now appear 
 As country - maidens of the land! 
 
 What pretty yellow hats they wear, 
 With bright, rose-coloured band! 
 
 It surely cannot be a crime, 
 
 To think that I am young and fair: 
 This declaration, many a time, 
 
 Hath sounded in mine ear. 
 
 Now that, on hill and sunny plain, 
 Luxuriate Spring flowerets gay, 
 
 The country - maidens , once again, 
 Each lover 'lure away. 
 
 What alteration, speedily, 
 
 In my equipment will be found ! 
 Much longer shall the corset be, 
 
 My dresses will be round. 
 
 L5
 
 226 J- W. vnn OOETHE. 
 
 A rustic hat of straw I'll wear, 
 
 I'll have a 'kerchief, white as snow, 
 
 And, with the reapers I'll repair, 
 The meadows bright to mow. 
 
 If, in the mower's company, 
 
 A lass attractive doth appear, 
 
 Each glance of an admirer's eye 
 
 Is marked till he glides near. — 
 
 Beneath the chin he patteth me, 
 
 But ah! — my name I ne'er reveal; 
 
 Yet, when he speaks facetiously, 
 What tremour do I feel! — 
 
 The city -belles fierce war declare 
 'Gainst country lasses, now: 
 
 Ye maidens! — on the brow, most fair, 
 Will victory's chaplet glow!
 
 .J. W. von GOETHE- I'l l 
 
 SYMPATHETIC COMPANIONS. 
 
 A Floweret bright 
 
 In the meadow grew ; 
 That Flower was gemmed 
 
 With Spring's glittering dew. 
 A youthful Bee 
 
 Inhaled honey there; — 
 For each other was born 
 
 That beauteous pair. 
 
 ALTERNATE SONGS FOR THE DANCE. 
 
 THE 1NIUFFEI1ENT. 
 
 Oh! come to the dance, iny beloved one, with me ; 
 
 The dance, well, suits days of festivity. 
 
 If thou'rt not yet, my Treasure , thou mayst be, some day; 
 
 Yet, if not, we may still be happy and gay. 
 
 Haste! — oh, haste to the dance, my Charmer, with me; 
 
 Dancing honours a day of festivity.
 
 228 J- W. von GOETHE. 
 
 THE TENDER. 
 
 What delight hath the dance, without thee, my love? 
 Without thee, — insipid each joy doth prove. 
 Could I dance if my Treasure were not at my side? 
 Be mine! — then, as festal -days, life will glide. 
 My Beloved! — what charms hath the dance, without thee? 
 Without thee — oh, what is festivity? 
 
 THE INDIFFERENT. 
 
 Let us join the gay dance, as, of love they talk! 
 From the dance, love's languishing votaries walk. 
 As we glide, to music's harmonious tone, 
 To the forest's deep gloom the lovers are gone. 
 Let us join the gay dance as, of love, they talk! 
 For languishing love, from the dance, doth walk. 
 
 THE TENDER. 
 
 At peace let them waltz, as we joyously rove! 
 Thus to stray — is the heavenly dance of love. 
 There, Cupid is stealthily hovering nigh, 
 Soon or late, — to avenge their raillery! 
 At peace let them waltz, as we tranquilly rove, 
 Thus to sti-ay, is the heavenly dance of love ! 
 
 •so0€i©>
 
 WILLIAM GERMAN MAURER. 
 
 V/f all the modern Poets whose biography we have 
 presented in this volume, none is more fertile in gene- 
 rous and elevated ideas, than the Author, respecting 
 whose life, a few short extracts will be given. It may 
 with justice be said that, in him arc united all the 
 pulsations that agitate the present age. If however, 
 his works have not yet been appreciated , except by 
 that class of the public who are distinguished for their 
 high literary attainments , the reason is that , those in- 
 dividuals who arc endowed by Nature, with superior 
 minds, find with difficulty competent judges, while 
 writers of mean and superficial abilities, acquire every- 
 where partisans of their own grade. The reader would 
 be unjust in forming an opinion of G. Maurer's ta- 
 lents, from the few specimens we have extracted from 
 his „Lyrical Effusions." That author who defines the 
 literary Work of Art, in the following terms: — „ It 
 is the reflection of Nature and Life, animated by tin
 
 230 w. a. MAUREK. 
 
 glow of a noble heart , enthusiastically alive to all those 
 sentiments which elevate and dignify Humanity :" — that 
 man, we repeat, who thus reasons , ought to he judged 
 by the ensemble of his ideas, on institutions, states, 
 laws, both criminal and civil, education, history, reli- 
 gion, philosophy, literature, arts, past and future im- 
 provements etc. G. Maurer has expressed his opinions, 
 on most of the above subjects , in many works, written 
 in a language in which elegance and perspicuity are 
 combined, and which place him on a level with the 
 most distinguished authors of the age. His productions 
 delineate the sentiments of a philosopher, christian, 
 gentleman, and philanthropist. He exhibits in his works, 
 a clearness of judgment , united to a heart, as sensitive 
 to every refined impression, as that of J. J. Rousseau, 
 or of John Paul Frederick Richter. There are many 
 of G. Maurer's poetical compositions which, for the 
 purity and elegance of their style , would have honoured 
 the time of Lessing, Gothe, and Schiller. „Das Welt- 
 drama,' 1 („The Drama of the World u J „BUithen aus 
 dem Abendland 11 („ Flowers from the West" J and other 
 lyrical productions, contain a great many beautiful and 
 classical effusions. In the last -mentioned work, pub- 
 lished in 1853, G. Maurer has truly proved himself 
 as Vates. A volume of Aphorisms on various subjects, 
 profoundly philosophical, has lately been translated into
 
 W. a. MAURER. 231 
 
 English: this work is entitled: „Ein Buck fur Leute 
 die denken" f„A Volume for Persons who think") 
 
 In Paris, where G. Maurer resided fifteen years, and 
 in other places, I have heard families, moving in the 
 first circles, express sentiments of the warmest friend- 
 ship towards G. Maurer, and they have publicly borne 
 testimony of his integrity and honourable conduct, in 
 the various relations of life. The zeal and self- de- 
 votion he has continually manifested in endeavouring 
 to ameliorate the condition of the unfortunate, whenever 
 opportunities have occurred, prove him to be the sin- 
 cere friend of humanity. 
 
 G. Maurer has invariably entertained an enthusiastic 
 affection for his fatherland ; his most ardent desire has 
 ever been, that Germany may become internally great, 
 and respected and honoured by foreign nations. 
 
 William German Maurer was born the 18th Fe- 
 bruary 1815, at the castle of Bensberg, which is si- 
 tuated three leagues from Cologne. The ancient and 
 celebrated castle of Bensberg is erected on a hill which 
 commands the panoramic view of a landscape, 12 or 
 15 leagues in circumference. If the earliest impressions 
 which we receive from Nature, exercise, as is generally 
 imagined, a decisive influence on the human mind, our 
 Poet was, in this respect, particularly favoured by des- 
 tiny. Even in his childhood, were strikingly develop-
 
 232 W. G. MAURER. 
 
 ed G. Maurer's poetical dispositions, and these senti- 
 ments were fostered amid a luxuriant and highly -cul- 
 tivated Nature and under the watchful eye of an affec- 
 tionate and virtuous mother who was possessed of ex- 
 traordinary intellectual acquirements , and towards whom, 
 her son entertained the warmest filial attachment. Un- 
 fortunately, in the eleventh year of his age, death de- 
 prived the youthful Poet of this tender guardian -angel, 
 and, during some time, he received instructions from 
 the Reverend M. Mass, at that epoch, protestant Pastor 
 at Gladbach. He remained, under the care of that 
 worthy and talented preceptor, until his father, a man 
 of great piety and integrity, sent his son to the College 
 of Cologne, to prosecute his studies there. In 1829 
 he quitted that city, and repaired to Berlin, in order 
 to frequent the University, and there , under the instruc- 
 tions of Hegel, Cans, and Raumer, he studied Philo- 
 sophy and History, and under Bopp , Lachmann, Bockh, 
 von der Hagen etc., he applied to the study of Phi- 
 lology. After having, with honour, passed his exami- 
 nations , our Poet was , during some time , occupied at 
 Berlin, as Professor of languages and literature. 
 
 In 1833 G. Maurer decided on removing to Paris, 
 towards which city he felt particularly attracted, on 
 account of the new era which the Revolution of July 
 presaged. He continued his studies in Paris, and, with
 
 W. G. MAURER. 233 
 
 the greatest assiduity, followed the different cours at 
 the College of France, until the year 1836. At that 
 period, M. le Comte de llohenthal , now H. M. the 
 King of Saxony's Ambassador at Berlin , recommended 
 G. Maurer, as Preceptor to the two sons of Colonel 
 Thorn , a gentleman of princely fortune who resided in 
 the Rue de Yarennes, and inhabited that hotel winch 
 was afterwards, by tin: Provisional Government, assign- 
 ed to Cavaignac, during his temporary Dictatorship. 
 G. Maurer resided in this family six years and a half. 
 The hotel of Colonel Thorn was the rendez-vous of 
 the most celebrated statesmen, diplomatists, journalists, 
 authors, and artists, located in Paris, and here G. Mau- 
 rer appeared to have formed a judgment, clear and 
 penetrating, of the world, and of mankind in general. 
 
 In his writings he delineates life, in a style both 
 masterly and piquant, and although the French dis- 
 tinguish themselves as critical observer-, they have been 
 in many respects, surpassed by a German, pressed 
 of rectitude of mind, and benevolence of heart. 
 
 Madame la Baronne de Pierre, pupil of Gr. Maurer, 
 and the second daughter of Colonel Thorn, has lately 
 been appointed, Lady of Bonour, to Eugenia, Empress 
 of France. 
 
 After G. Maurer bad quitted the family of Colonel 
 Thorn, Mr. Livingstone, an American gentleman. <•!
 
 234 W. G. MAUREK. 
 
 immense wealth, who was anxious to engage Gf. Mau- 
 rer, as Professor to his three sons, offered him a salary 
 of six thousand francs, annually, to accompany his fa- 
 mily to the United States. This proposition our Poet 
 declined, and soon afterwards, undertook the education 
 of the only son of Lieutenant -genei'al, the Baron de 
 Pelet, peer of France, and now Senator. 
 
 After the death of the Baron de Pelet's son, Gr. 
 Maurer contributed to several journals , especially to the 
 ^National." As a Professor of Literature and Langua- 
 ges, Gr. Maurer was, during fifteen years, well known 
 in Paris , among the most fashionable and aristocratic 
 circles , both French and English , by whom he was 
 highly honored and respected, for his integrity, talents, 
 and for the conscientious fulfilment of his professional, 
 literary engagements. Amid numerous families of dis- 
 tinction who honoured him with their confidence may 
 be enumerated : J. Peel Esq. , brother of Sir Robert 
 Peel, Lady J. Hay, Madame Nesbet, daughter-in-law of 
 Admiral Lord Nelson , Lord Clifford , the two Counts 
 Berthier, M. A. Fould, banker, Madame la Baronne 
 de Pelet de la Lozere ; wife of the Minister of Finances, 
 under Louis Philippe, etc. etc. 
 
 After the Revolution of February, in the year 1849, 
 G. Maurer returned to his native country, and resided 
 at Frankfort a. M. — November 1851, on a requisition
 
 W. G. MAURER 235 
 
 from the Prussian Government, two domiciliatory visits 
 were made at his house, and although not a single 
 paper was found that, in the slightest manner, implicat- 
 ed him, G. Maurer was arrested, on a suspicion of 
 behmging to a political association, and imprisoned, 
 during nine weeks, in a narrow and unwholesome cell 
 of the Frankfort prison. By the Senate of the city of 
 Frankfort G. Maurer was declared innocent of the charge 
 brought against him; yet, by that same Senate, he was 
 banished from Germany, as an individual, professing 
 democratical principles. The books and manuscripts, seized 
 at his arrestation, have never been restored by the Au- 
 thorities of Frankfort. Since his exile, G. Maurer has, 
 resided at Zurich, in Switzerland. 
 
 Maurer's chief Works are: 
 
 POETICAL YEARS OP APPRENTICESHIP. Paris L837. 
 POLTTICAL LETTERS FROM BERLIN. Paris. L840. 
 LETTERS PROW Till: COI XTKV. Paris, 1841. 
 FOLIAGE AND FLOWERS. Paris, 1841. 
 Till' DRAMA OE THE WORLD. Ztirich, is II. 
 MUSINGS AND POETRY. 2 Volumes. Zurich, 1844. 
 A BOOK FOR TERSOXS Wllo THINK. Zurich, I84S 
 EFFUSIONS OF THE HEART. Leipzig, 1847. 
 ANTHROPOSOIMIY. Frankfurt, 1851. 
 FLOWERS FROM THE WEST. Zurich, 1854.
 
 23fi VV. fi. MAURER. 
 
 MORNING. 
 
 As when, at the creation's earliest day, 
 Her veil mysterious, Nature cast aside; 
 
 I hear melodious warblers on each spray, 
 
 And roseate clouds, through eastern regions, glide. 
 
 Celestial Phoebus with his coursers bright, 
 
 Pursues a glorious course, 'mid realms on high, 
 
 And, in the West, dark spirits of the night, 
 Enveloped in grey, misty vesture, fly. — 
 
 In this fair world, where countless beauties glow, 
 Adorned, as Paradise, with charms divine, 
 
 The best terrestrial gift doth Heaven bestow, — 
 That Being, most beloved, on earth, is mine!
 
 \V. <:. MAURER. 
 
 FAREWELL. 
 
 We met in bright, luxuriant May; 
 
 How often, hand in hand, we've strayed, 
 With hearts united — spirits gay, 
 
 O'er sunny hill, and sheltered glade! 
 
 "With many a variegated flower, 
 
 What beauteous garlands have we wreathed, 
 As, over field, and verdant bower, 
 
 The lark, towards Heaven, his music breathed ! — 
 
 Pale, mist -crowned Autumn now is come, 
 
 Chill rain and wind drift near my door; 
 
 They warn me, far from thee, to roam, 
 
 Perchance we part — to meet, no more!
 
 2.'58 W. Gt. MAURER. 
 
 EXTRACT 
 
 FROM THE 
 
 ..WORLD'S DRAMA." 
 
 LWELTDKAMA.") 
 
 SOLILOQUY. 
 
 Welcome to thee — beloved native shore, 
 
 Where passed the sacred days of infancy! 
 What bliss, that cottage to behold, once more, 
 
 Where bloomed the infant, 'neath his parents' eye! 
 With transport I behold mount — forest — flood, — 
 
 Still dear to memory, in my fatherland: — 
 How fair was Life, when cradled in the bud! — 
 
 That bud — predestined, never to expand. 
 
 Years glide, by one eternal — fixed decree, 
 
 From enterprising Youth — Age reaps a store; 
 Yet, Earth's best treasures would be given by me, 
 
 Childhood's luxuriant joys to taste, once more. 
 Would — that, with fairy-wand, I could, awhile 
 
 Re- vivify Life's withered Flower of Spring, 
 And contemplate the wonders of that Isle, — 
 
 Scenes — ne'r from memory chased, by Time's swift wing!
 
 W.G. MAURER. 2.) 'J 
 
 'Mid visions of the night, Youth saw, afar, 
 
 Bright landscapes, glowing 'neath benignant skies; 
 I saw the roseate lustre of Hope's star, 
 
 Time's wave irradiate with heavenly dyes! — 
 Yet — he who from that Isle's safe harbour sails, 
 
 Encounters whirlwinds near a friendly bay, 
 Till wrecked on rocks, 'mid overwhelming gales, 
 
 To dread abysses, Life becomes a prey! — 
 
 Vanished th'illusions, to the heart, most dear, 
 
 That heart, in vain, hopes, 'mid th'increasing gloom, 
 Life's Pilot, to a favouring port, may steer, 
 
 E'en midst the night of an engulphing tomb! 
 That night — o'er which, a veil, hath Mystery spread, — 
 
 That night — the empire of Eternity! — 
 Yet — wherefure shudder, o'er that path to tread? — 
 
 Trembles the soul at dread Uncertainty? — 
 
 Life fluctuates 'mid dread Uncertainty — 
 
 Fear — anguish — hope! — Why was creative power, 
 Maternal Nature! thus employed by thee, 
 
 To give frail Man th'existence of an hour? — 
 Ah! — if to me, thou, Life, hadst never given, 
 
 I ne'er should have believed, hoped, feared, or loved, 
 With no terrestrial grief should I have striven, 
 
 And thou, a cruel Mother, ne'er hadst proved!
 
 240 W. G. MAUREH. 
 
 THE 
 
 ROCK OF THE SEVEN SISTERS. 
 
 A LEGEND OF THE RHINE. 
 
 Illumed by sunny rays of gold, 
 
 Doth Schonberg, on the Rhine, arise. 
 
 Yon seven grey rocks dost thou behold, 
 Aspiring, proudly, toward the skies V 
 
 A castle there was wont to stand, 
 
 Though now we seek the trace, in vain, 
 
 A haughty Baron of the land, 
 
 There dwelt; — how vast was his domain! 
 
 Seven Daughters fair, of matchless grace, 
 Possessed th'illustrious Baron proud, 
 
 And many a Knight, of kingly race, 
 As suitors to the Damsels, bowed.
 
 \V. (,. MAI 1:1:1:. 241 
 
 They sighed, yet, hopelessly they loved, 
 Though pining 'neath a rankling dart: 
 
 Inexorably cold, still proved 
 
 Bach beauteous Maiden's flinty heart. 
 
 They were as syrens who with wile, 
 
 And captivating witchery, 
 Were wont the pilot to beguile, 
 
 With songs, while traversing the sea. 
 
 Of those who sought the Maidens fair, 
 
 How many fell beneath love's flame! 
 They died, the victims of despair, 
 
 And gained, as Werther, mournful fame. — 
 
 Vet, just, and retributive Heaven 
 
 Forbad that faithful hearts should pine : 
 
 Have not the Powers celestial given 
 
 To human clay, love's spark divine? — 
 
 Seven thunderbolts destructive rolled 
 
 Upon the Sisters, and they died! — 
 
 In yon seven Rocks thou dost behold, 
 They've stood-, for centuries, typified! 
 
 LC
 
 242 
 
 W. G. MAl'RER. 
 
 SONG OF THE AMOUROUS PILGRIM. 
 
 A wanderer, when from thee, I part, 
 
 All pleasure I forego ; 
 As troubled ocean is my heart, 
 
 Whose treasured Pearl art thou ! 
 
 The stars' pure light, and sunny skies, 
 That gild the crystal spray, 
 
 Are the reflection of thine eyes, 
 
 Where lingereth Hope's mild ray. 
 
 Love's fair similitude art thou! — 
 From regions of the main, 
 
 What Form celestial greets me now ! — 
 Doth Venus rise again ?
 
 W. O MAUREH 24 3 
 
 THE PAST AND THE PRESENT. 
 
 For Peace, in foreign regions, chill and bleak, 
 
 I search in vain. — „Upon thy Fatherland 
 She dwells ! a I hear my throbbing heart thus speak. - 
 
 AVould, I possessed a cot on that loved strand ! 
 There Life might calmly glide. — My home I'll seek, 
 
 And thence the world survey! — I take in hand 
 My pilgrim's staff, and, with a joyous heart, 
 
 Towards my beloved native land , depart — 
 
 Again I wander to th'umbrageous tree 
 
 Beneath whose boughs passed many a sunny day, 
 
 My soul enwrapped in ideality , 
 
 Gay dreams beguiling swift- winged hours away, 
 
 "While the melodious lark sang anthems i'vee; 
 Forsaking Earth, he sang, beneath Heaven's ray:- 
 
 Now Fancy represents, to my (.harmed sight, 
 
 Youth's fairy-scenes, in colours, rich and bright. -
 
 244 
 
 W. G. MAURER. 
 
 The objects that were wont to chafe each vein, 
 
 Re -vivify me, as in days, gone by: 
 My first Beloved I now behold again, 
 
 Each movement, feature, glance, can I descry, 
 Though years , I've wandered on a distant plain. — 
 
 Yet, when my name she utters — Heaven seems nigh, 
 And, o'er a drear existence, brightly smile 
 
 Love's fostering ray that was eclipsed, awhile.
 
 \v <;. mIueek. 245 
 
 THE NEMESIS OF HISTORY. 
 
 Humanity! say; when will terminate 
 
 That martyrdom, so long endured by thee? — 
 Dare we solution clear, from Hope, await V 
 
 What consolation offers History , 
 When frank, impartial answer, we demand? — 
 
 With anguish deep, will History reply 
 That, near each noble heart, doth ever stand 
 
 A dread Avenger, with remorseless eye! — 
 The best, and all, of elevated sold, 
 
 The hate of their contemporaries find ; 
 Greece intellectual hath her hemlock-bowl, 
 
 There dwells the sophist keen, of subtle mind. 
 The Prophet of Judea is arraigned 
 
 Before an earthly tribunal , and there , 
 By priests, — Seducer of the people named! 
 
 For Christ, what trammels pharisees prepare! 
 The victim of insidious enemies , 
 Nailed on a cross — the world's Deliverer dies!
 
 246 W. G. MAURER. 
 
 To beasts ferocious , at each public game , 
 
 The followei*s of Christ become a prey , 
 And later , they who bear the christian's name , 
 
 (With what just reason, who presumes to say?) 
 A diabolic power to exercise , 
 
 Ensanguined , fearful orgies celebrate ; 
 The holy Inquisition's walls arise; — 
 
 For Christians, — piles funereal await! — 
 As, by proud Romans, in the days, gone by, 
 
 The Heretics — that noble race, are led 
 To stake, and scaffold; — there condemned to die, 
 
 While persecution's flames, in volumes, spread; 
 For victims' blood must gush, to satiate 
 A vengeful Nemesis' rapacious hate! 
 
 A sanguinary Nemesis doth stand 
 
 Near all, ennobling sentiments inspire: 
 
 Martyrs and victims, e'er will she demand, 
 
 While those exist whom thoughts enlightened fire.
 
 W. G. MAURER. 247 
 
 SOUVENIRS. 
 
 Celestial Spring a Flower bestowed, 
 That bright as blushing morning, glowed; 
 With youthful love's devoted care, 
 I watched that blooming Floweret fair, 
 
 From morn's first ray 
 
 Till close of day. 
 
 The Muse's song that fired my breast, — 
 Each bliss terrestrial I possessed, 
 I owed to the mysterious power 
 Of that sweet, captivating Flower, 
 
 Which, o'er my soul 
 
 Usurped control. 
 
 When past was fascinating May , 
 My Floweret, still, was fresh and gay; 
 She drooped beneath no withering blight, 
 But spread her petals to the light; — 
 
 What odours rare 
 
 Diffusing there ! —
 
 2-18 W. G. MAURER. 
 
 Fate called me to a distant shore, 
 That Flower shall I behold, no more! — 
 To thee, from mom, 'till eve's last ray, — 
 Till death, — I'll consecrate my lay, 
 
 Pride of my bower! 
 
 Thou beauteous Flower!
 
 W. «. MJLUREB. 249 
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 What countless flowers expand in May, 
 
 And vernal zephyrs sweet 
 
 Their blooming petals greet: — 
 Alas! those flowerets now decay. — 
 
 Unnumbered voices welcome May, 
 
 From morn till eventide : — 
 
 Joy's pinions swiftly glide , 
 Her song melodious dies away! — 
 
 Ah ! — where , in Youth's bright days , flown by, 
 
 I strayed with my Beloved, — 
 
 Stern Boreas' winds have roved, 
 And withered leaves there scattered lie!
 
 250 W. G. MAUREK. 
 
 POPULARITY. 
 
 They who the Idols of the crowd would be, 
 
 Should never force that crowd above their sphere ; 
 
 Idols they seek in mediocrity; 
 
 Chimeras all, unlike themselves, appear. 
 
 WISDOM. 
 
 When with vain talkers , if thou'rt truly wise , 
 Be taciturn as fish, beneath the sea; 
 
 For, wheresoe'er the tones of Wisdom rise, 
 There will the smallest auditory be. 
 
 BENEFITS. 
 
 The source of benefits to analyze 
 
 111 suiteth gratitude. Since Life, alone, 
 
 Honours that God who in man's bosom lies; 
 
 From man's own heart, th'Ennobling e'er has flown. 
 
 AFFINITY. 
 
 As, in a complicated maze, mankind, 
 
 By Error's machinations deep , are led : 
 
 Should one head prove bewildered, — oft we find, 
 In anarchy and strife are myriads led !
 
 \\ . G. MATHER. 251 
 
 TYPE. 
 
 Nature and Genius! — all that you create 
 Preserveth e'er its bright , intrinsic seal ; 
 
 However analyzed by scorn, or hate, 
 
 That Type will e'er its Characters reveal. 
 
 IMMORTALITY OF LIFE. 
 
 They who devote Life's swiftly-pinioned day 
 To deeds of virtue, honour, and renown; 
 
 Midst change , and while terrestrial thrones decay , 
 Win Immortality's bright, star- gemmed crown. 
 
 UNSYM PATHETIC COMPANIONS. 
 
 How deeply it embitters human life, 
 
 That, the Ideal and Reality, 
 
 To form the Perfect — ne'er their powers unite ! 
 Alas ! — they dwell in everlasting strife.
 
 252 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 THE HOSTAGE. 
 
 Lo ! — As Moerus, with dagger concealed, doth stand; 
 In the palace of Dionys is he found, 
 „And, by watchful guards, in chains, is he bound. 
 Why lurkest thou here, with dagger, in hand?" — 
 „Frorn Tyranny's goad, would I free the land!" — 
 Thy guerdon will be — on the cross to die!" 
 Doth the Tyrant , with haughty voice, reply. — 
 
 „I welcome my destiny, void of fear, 
 
 And, although I scorn to demand to live, 
 Yet, of thee, a boon would I, fain, receive: — 
 Three days, I beseech thee, my life to spare, 
 My sister's hymenial vows would I hear, 
 My Friend, unto thee, Avill a Hostage come; 
 Sate thy vengeance on him, if I shun my doom!"
 
 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 25.') 
 
 With sarcastic, smile, the Tyrant replies: 
 „Haste to thy sister's hymenial feast, 
 But, in three days hence, be again my guest, 
 Oh, Moerus! — Return, or thy Hostage dies, 
 Ransom his life, or his blood, on thee, lies! 
 On the cross that is now erected for thee, 
 For thy crime he expires, while thou art free." — 
 
 To his Friend he hastes, and exclaims: „I come 
 To announce to thee — I'm condenm'd to die; 
 Stern Dionys sealeth my destiny. 
 I tarry three days, at my sister's home, 
 Her nuptials to witness, then meet my doom; 
 My Friend! — remain, and my Hostage be, 
 Till I hither return, to ransom thee!" 
 
 The Friends now embrace, and stand silently. 
 The Hostage surrenders, Death's willing prey; — 
 With anxiety, Moerus hastens away, 
 And ere Phoebus, thrice, gilds the eastern sky, 
 He has witnessed the nuptial solemnity: 
 Moerus bids farewell; how he fears delay! 
 And departs, with Aurora's first glowing ray. —
 
 254 J. C. F. von SCHILLER 
 
 Rushing torrents of rain obscure the sky, 
 
 The wild mountain streams overflow their beds , 
 And, her sources, deep the swollen river spreads. 
 Moerus reaches the strand, and, with agony, 
 Views the bridge, on the waves, in fragments lie : 
 O'er the arches, th'impetuous waters pour, 
 With loud thunder's reverberating roar ! 
 
 Lo ! he stands, in despair: no boat is at hand, 
 Alas! — in vain Moerus gazes around, 
 And, in vain doth he call! — No responding sound 
 
 Greets his ear ! — No boat quits the sheltering strand, 
 
 None will brave the storm, for the cherished land; 
 
 Each mariner seeketh security , 
 
 For the billowy flood has become a sea! — 
 
 Moerus, weeping, kneels, on the shore, in prayer: 
 „Oh, great Jupiter!" the suppliant cries, 
 As he raiseth, towards Heaven, his weeping eyes, 
 „Deign to calm the fierce tempest, raging here, 
 Time's hand points to noon, and delay, I fear: 
 If the sun should set, ere hence I can flee, 
 Alas! — my Friend's life-blood must flow for me!" —
 
 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 26.0 
 
 With increasing rage is the storm renewed; 
 
 Billow, o'er hillow, swift, rushes along; 
 
 Hour, after hour movetli, lingeringly, on: 
 Now despair nerves his soul; — he dives in the flood, 
 The chill tide cools not his feverish blood; 
 He ploughs the wild waves, with a nervous hand; 
 The Gods are propitious! — He eraches the land! — 
 
 As Moerus liusteneth onward again, 
 
 Breathing to Jupiter gratitude's prayer, 
 Behold! — From a forest umbrageous, near, 
 Advanceth a troop of ferocious men, 
 Whose mysterious haunts lie hid, in the glen; 
 Lo! — they brandish their clubs, ferociously, 
 And exlaim: — .Halt, traveller! — Halt, or die ! u 
 
 „I possess but my life! — No prize have ye found; 
 To the King, that life is devoted now: 
 For the sake of my Friend, compassion bestow!" — 
 Moerus, wresting a club, wields it, desperately, round, 
 Lo! — three brigands arc prostrate <>n the ground, 
 And, the Victor set-, with a joyous heart, 
 That, o'ercome by terror, his \'<»'* depart. —
 
 256 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 Phoebus' noon -tide splendour darts o'er the strand; 
 O'erpowered by his fierce, meridian rays, 
 And, by thirst exhausted, thus Moerus prays: 
 „ Great Jove! — hast thou saved me from Murder's-hand ; 
 And, through billows impetuous, led me to land, 
 Of thirst, thus to perish! — Protect me, in need, 
 Or, my Friend, on the cross, for me, will bleed ! - — 
 
 Hark! — murmurs attract his attention keen: 
 Great is his testacy ! — Water is near ; 
 He halts, and anxiously lending an ear, 
 With transport, a bright, crystal brooklet is seen, 
 Descending o'er rocks, to the valley green; 
 At the silvery fountain doth Moerus sip, 
 And refreshed are his limbs, and his feverish lip. 
 
 Eve's sun -beams are gilding the western sky, 
 And the lofty forest- trees spread around. 
 Gigantic shades, on the neighbouring ground. 
 
 Near his path doth Moerus two travellers descry^ 
 
 And approaching him with rapidity: 
 
 As one utters this sentence , how pants his breath ! 
 
 „On the cross, the Hostage now suffers death!" —
 
 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 257 
 
 How cloth the heart of the Wanderer heat! — 
 'W 1 1 1 1 frenzied excitement still hastening on, 
 
 The turrets of Syracuse, gilt by the sun, 
 He beholds, and Mocrus glides, still more fleet. — 
 Lo! Philostratus doth his master greet; — 
 As he, breathlessly, is advancing near, 
 Thus, the faithful servant exclaims, with fear: 
 
 „Too late to deliver! — Return, and flee! 
 
 To preserve thine own life, depart, with speed; 
 
 Thy Friend, at this moment, is doomed to bleed! — 
 As, hour after hour, he awaited thee, 
 How unmoved was his faith in thy constancy, 
 And, how vain the dread Tyrant's raillery proved, 
 To awaken mistrust, in thy Friend beloved!" — 
 
 „Too late! — yet, we still shall united be, 
 
 Magnanimous Friend! — I'll resign my breath; 
 If, thee, have I failed to ransom from death! 
 No boast shall the blood-thirsty Tyrant make, 
 That Friend, towards a Friend, can honour forsake: 
 When he views the blood of two Victims flow, 
 Will he, still, disbelieve Friendship's sacred vow?" —
 
 258 
 
 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 The shadows of evening flit o'er the ground; 
 The fatal cross doth already appear, 
 A dense, anxions multitude standeth near, 
 And the Friend awaits death, in fetters hound. 
 Moeros, piercing the crowds that the cross surround, 
 Cries: „My Hostage, oh, Executioner! spare!" 
 I am Moerus ! — for Moerus the cross you prepare ! — 
 
 -». 
 Mute, with deep surprise, the spectators appear: — 
 As they view, on the scaffold , the Friends embrace, 
 What sorrow and joy, in each breast, find place, 
 And all bestow sympathy's heart -felt tear! — 
 The truth is conveyed to the Tyrant severe, 
 In whose soul humanity's feelings arise: — 
 „Lead hither the Hostage, and Moerus!" he cries. 
 
 He gazeth on those whom his fetters have bound; — 
 The Tyrant exclaims : „ Ye have conquered my heart , 
 Live! — live! noble Friends, and in freedom, depart! 
 True Friendship is not a mysterious sound, 
 In you, living proof of its truth, have I found; 
 Oh, grant that the name of Dionys may be 
 Now, inscribed in your Compact of Amity!"
 
 HERMANN MARGSRAFF. 
 
 JMontesquieu , the celebrated author of the „ Spirit 
 of the Laws," has thus remarked: „ As with riches, 
 thus is it, with literary Fame which is not possessed 
 by the most deserving, but is generally awarded by 
 caprice or chance. Those whom I have known , and 
 who had a legitimate right to have obtained the suf- 
 frage of the public, have rarely succeeded, during 
 their life -time; it was only after their death, that cri- 
 tics rendered them justice, and annulled that iniquitous 
 decree which the envy and jealousy of ignorant and 
 narrow minded contemporaries, had pronounced against 
 them." — 
 
 These words of a great Genius, we are desirous to 
 apply to that distinguished Writer whose biography will be 
 given in this work. If we open the infinite number of 
 literary histories which, during the last ten years, have 
 appeared in Germany, we find that critics have exhi- 
 bited but little justice towards Marggraff, while they
 
 2 GO H. MARGGRAFF. 
 
 extol productions that do not rise above mediocrity, 
 and which Time will not foil to engulph, and consign 
 to oblivion, while those same critics consecrate a few 
 passing observations to an individual who, in so many 
 respects, is highly worthy of a profound examination, 
 and a more benevolent appreciation. Marggraff has 
 successfully cultivated four kinds of literature; he is a 
 lyric poet, a dramatic poet, a romance -writer and a 
 critic. In each style he has exhibited himself, as an 
 author of remarkable talent, and exquisite taste. Fi- 
 nally, Marggraff is one who truly comprehends the 
 important mission of a writer, as it ought to be un- 
 derstood. By Art, he is desirous to enlighten, and 
 ameliorate the condition of the human race, therefore, 
 all his publications breathe a purity of soul, and a 
 patriotic love, which we seek, but vainly, among many 
 other writers, that certain literary cliques, which are 
 numerous in Germany, place, unjustly, far above that 
 Poet who forms the subject of these biographical 
 memoirs. 
 
 Hermann Marggraff was born the 14th September 
 1809, at Zullichau. After having studied at the Gym- 
 nasium of his native city, he repaired, in 1829, to 
 the University of Berlin, where he followed, assidu- 
 ously, the cours of Lachmann, von der Hagen, Boekh, 
 Becker, and others. He pursued his philosophical
 
 11. MARGGRAPF. 261 
 
 studies under Hegel, and de Steffcns. Although the 
 latter was greatly in vogue, at Berlin, he appears to 
 have made but a slight impression on our Poet who 
 was endowed with faculties, of too elevated a nature, 
 to allow himself to be attracted by a philosophy which 
 is contented with certain sensations, the horizon of 
 which, IS lost in the clouds of fantasy and romance, 
 unceasingly occupied with efforts, to re -vivify the past, 
 without possessing the present. 
 
 As early as the year 1830, H. Marggraff published 
 a volume of poems, in conjunction with his brother 
 Rudolph, now, Professor at Munich. This collection 
 contains many pieces which betray the genuine poet. 
 After having terminated his studies, at the University, 
 he passed, with honour, his examinations, having the 
 intention of devoting himself to teaching the higher 
 branches of classical education; but, as he loved his 
 independence too well, to follow a pedantic life, he 
 renounced that career, and employed his time, exclu- 
 sively, with literary pursuits. In a review, entitled 
 „Zodiacus", edited by Dr. Mundt, and in the „Bldt- 
 ter fiir literarische Unterhaltung" , („ Literary Conver- 
 sations'') he published a great many critiques which 
 made so favourable an impression on the literary world, 
 that, in the year 1836 he became editor-in-chief of 
 the „ Berliner Konversationsblatt" , („ Berlin literary
 
 262 H MARGGRAFF. 
 
 conversations. 11 ) In this position, Marggraff, not only 
 weighed the principles of Art, but he applied those 
 laws to his own compositions, and gave encouragement 
 to all the young men of genius , of his time : they, 
 invariably found in him, a benevolent and enlightened 
 counsellor. A collection of his works at this epoch, 
 appeared in 1837, entitled: „BUcher unci Menschen", 
 f„Books and Men.") This publication is equally 
 distinguished by its form, and contents. 
 
 In 1845 Marggraff was summoned to Augsburg, 
 as collaborator of the „Augsburger Allgemeine Zei- 
 tung," f„Augsbourg universal Gazette") which is the 
 most distinguished , and the most widely -circulated 
 publication in all Germany. However, his liberal ideas 
 not permitting him to enter into the politics of this 
 Gazette, he limited himself, exclusively, to the publication 
 of literary, and scientific articles. When, in 1847, 
 M. Gervinus undertook to publish, at Heidelberg, a 
 new political Journal, namely the ,, Deutsche Zeitung", 
 („ The German Gazette ") H. Marggraff was associated 
 as his co - editor. In that capacity , he acted a very 
 honourable part, during the two stormy years of 1848 
 and 1849, and maintained a just medium between 
 eccentric, and re-actionary ideas. The cherished dream 
 of his early and mature years, had ever been, to see 
 his Fatherland, internally free, and respected, and
 
 h. margCtRaff. 263 
 
 honored by foreign nations. In hie riper years, Marg- 
 graff preserved that integrity of disposition -which, under 
 all circumstances, had characterized him. In 1851, 
 when the „ Deutsche Zeitung" had ceased to appear, 
 Marggraff quitted Frankfort, in order to undertake the 
 editorship of the „Altonaer Mercur", ( „The Altona Mer- 
 cury") and, in 1852, he became the editor of the 
 ^Hamburger Korrespondent ". 
 
 In the beginning of the year 1854, Marggraff was 
 appointed, by the librarian Brockhaus, of Leipsic, as 
 editor-in-chief of the „ Blatter fur literarische Unter- 
 haltung", the most celebrated critical Review, in Germany.
 
 264 H - MARG GRAFF. 
 
 Marggraff's chief Works are: 
 
 POEMS (in connexion with his brother). 1830. 
 
 BERLIN LITERARY DISCUSSIONS. 1837 and 1838. 
 
 BOOKS AND MEN. Buuzlau , 1837. 
 
 THE EMPEROR HENRY THE FOURTH. A historical Tragedy. 1837. 
 
 THE NEWEST GERMAN LITERATURE. Leipsic, 1830. 
 
 THE DOVE OF AMSTERDAM. A Tragedy. Leipsic, 1839. 
 
 JUSTUS AND CHRYSOSTOMUS. Pictures of Time and Life. 2 Volumes. 
 
 Leipsic, 1810. 
 ELFRIDA, A TRAGEDY. 1841. 
 UNIVERSAL THEATRIC DICTIONARY. (Including Robert Blumm and 
 
 Charles Herlosson.) Altenburg and Leipsic, 1839 — 42. 
 ANCIENT HISTORY OF FREEMASONRY IN ENGLAND. In the 
 
 style of James Orchard Halliwell. Leipsic, 1842. 
 POLITICAL POETRY OF GERMANY, from Klopstock to the present 
 
 time, with a critical, and literary Introduction. Leipsic, 1843. 
 MUNICH WITH ITS TREASURES OF ART AND CURIOSITIES. (In 
 
 Connexion with his Brother Rudolph Marggraff.) Munich 1846.
 
 H. MABGGRAFF. 265 
 
 BUTTERFLIES. 
 
 A MYTHOLOGICAL LEGEND. 
 
 Mild , balmy showers announce the birth of May 
 
 Who bringeth golden treasures, gemmed with dew; 
 
 Her brow is decked with rosy chaplet gay, 
 
 And 'neath May's footstep , Earth doth garlands strew. 
 
 To welcome her, birds sing, from spray to spray; 
 Their silent homage, blooming flowers renew; 
 
 Spring's tender plants, awaked to life, again, 
 
 Amid the forest hide, and grace the plain. 
 
 While, fanned by perfumed zephyrs, May doth lie, 
 With wreath of variegated flowerets crowned, 
 
 As, 'mid blue ether, feathered songsters fly, 
 And there, melodiously, their notes resound, 
 
 When, o'er umbrageous tombs, their harmony 
 
 Gives charms to mournful silence , reigning round , — 
 
 Thus gently whisper odorous Flowerets fair : 
 
 „Wc fain would be yon birds that rove through air!"
 
 2fiG H - MARGGRAFF. 
 
 „From realm to region could we bend our way, 
 
 And there luxuriate, 'neath Heaven's sunny height! 
 
 En raptured, 'midst blue ether, should we stray, 
 With soul, inebriated by delight!" 
 
 List! — tones celestial sound! — Fair as young day, 
 Behold! — a heavenly Being greets their sight; 
 
 Before the Flowerets doth an Angel stand, 
 
 With wand, and water-lily in his hand! 
 
 His wand, on each bright Floweret, doth repose, 
 Behold! light, variegated pinions rise! 
 
 Part bird, part flower, the lily and the rose, 
 
 Essay their new - boi-n wings , 'neath vernal skies ! 
 
 On Flowers, gay Butterflies sip dew that flows 
 
 From Heaven ; — with Flowers have mutual 
 sympathies , 
 
 With buds, and blossoms reach maturity, 
 
 And Butterflies and Flowers, together, die.
 
 H. MARGGRAFF. 267 
 
 KLAUS STORTEBECKER. 
 
 A TRADITION OF FRIESLAND. 
 
 (The society oi Victuallers [in the vulgar dialect denominated 
 Vitalien ] , was formerly an association of adventurers who , during the 
 wars of the Hanse - towns, were charged, by the hostile Powers of the 
 North , at the end of the 14th century , to furnish provisions for the 
 belligerent German party. After the peace , these adventurers became 
 Pirates , and acted as enemies to both parties , on the high seas. 
 Their two Chiefs, Klaus Stortebecker, and Godfrey Michael, tilled the 
 heart of every navigator with terror. The historical termination of 
 Klaus Stortebecker's life , is entirely different to that which is here 
 described. 
 
 It is a well authenticated fact that, in the year 1402, Stortebecker, 
 and seventy of his comrades , were made prisoners , on board the Ham- 
 burg vessels that had been sent from the Elbe against them. The 
 Freebooters were conveyed to Helgoland, and thence transferred to 
 Hamburg: there the Pirates were decapitated on the Place de Gras- 
 brook, in the environs of that city. 
 
 Klaus Stortebecker and his companions had , on innumerable 
 occasions , experienced the most cordial reception in Friesland , and 
 there his fleet found a secure and favourable harbour. In Friesland has 
 long been propagated a tradition respecting the celebrated Pirate , which 
 tradition forms the subject of the following romance.)
 
 268 H. MARGGRAFF. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 The famed Klaus Stortebecker, the Hero of our lay, 
 With dread inspired each merchant, — yes, many, 
 
 many a day! 
 Each seaman and each trader, Klaus' name, with terror 
 
 filled, 
 From Hamburg unto Wismar — from Bremen to 
 
 Roskilde. 
 
 If, on a strand far distant, fluttered a pennon gay, 
 Klaus' graceful, taper vessel would dart to seize the 
 
 prey. 
 Each sail was wide extended, — like eagle's pinion 
 
 light: — 
 O'er ocean's heaving billows, it seemed an eagle's flight!
 
 II. MAUG GRAFF. 209 
 
 Oft, with the Bremen gentry, how many a bloody fray 
 Was fought with Stortebecker, on ocean's boiling spray ! 
 How oft fear's tone resounded: — „He comes with 
 
 the fresh breeze! 
 Who saves ns? — Who delivers? — He comes, — 
 
 th'audacious Friese!" — 
 
 Grave Magistrates and Elders, with sage, yet troubled 
 
 mind , 
 In state had oft assembled, for counsel, and to rind 
 Some practicable method, that Man, of fearful name, 
 To capture. — Ah! — they parted, as wise as when 
 
 they came! — 
 
 The news was spread, like wild -fire, amid the town, 
 
 one day, 
 That Stortebecker' 1 s vessel was stranded in the bay! — 
 She drifted on a sand - bank , the sport of adverse 
 
 gales; 
 The spring -tide came, and vainly, the vessel spread 
 
 her sails. —
 
 270 H. MARGGRAFF. 
 
 A thought, like flash of lightning, darts through the 
 
 burgers' minds ; 
 If, thence she be not wafted by brisk,, auspicious winds, 
 Klaus' vessel, richly laden, perchance, with plundered 
 
 store , 
 Would be their prize ! — What courage the townsmen 
 
 feel , once more ! — 
 
 When universal danger inspireth dire alarms, 
 
 Thus now, by general summons, the burgers seize their 
 
 arms: 
 Of every kind of weapon , abundant is their store , 
 With sword, pike, spear, and pick -axe, they march 
 
 through Bremen's door! — 
 
 Through morn's chill, vaporous twilight, while howls 
 
 the northern blast, 
 With frost, and fear, they battle; yet, reach the sloop 
 
 at last. 
 How doth the freezing life-blood, from many a cheek 
 
 depart ! 
 How audibly resoundeth each throbbing of their heart!
 
 H. MARGGnAFJP. 271 
 
 They stand like mice, unci listen: — the fist of. Klaus 
 
 they (ear. 
 How calm the ship! — At distance, loud breakers 
 
 wild they hear. 
 Behold! — on board the vessel, they climb, with 
 
 panting breath: — 
 Will not Klaus' glances blast them V — Beneath his 
 
 arm lurks death ! — 
 
 No! — bravely move the Champions, with limbs un- 
 
 crushed, on board; 
 They beckon to their comrades, with many a gentle 
 
 word , 
 And cautiously, on ladder, and rope, the valiant troop, 
 O'er the ship's side ascending, — stand on the Pirate's 
 sloop ! — 
 
 Nought stirreth In the vessel; — nought breaks the 
 
 silence there, 
 Save, a loud-echoing snoring that bursts upon the ear; 
 As, from a caverned bear's- den, when, overgorged 
 
 with food, 
 O'erpowered by sleep, snores Bruin, with all his shaggy , 
 
 brood. —
 
 272 H. M AUG GRAFF. 
 
 Thy steal into the cabin: — to 'waken Klaus, they 
 
 fear. 
 Surrounded by his comrades, behold the Buccanier, 
 By wine intoxicated , — beside his drunken crew ! — 
 Instead of quaffing brandy — what do the Vic- 
 tors do ! 
 
 Bravely, with rope and shackle, by night's drear mists, 
 
 are bound 
 That farfamed band of Pirates who , fast asleep , are 
 
 found ! 
 Klaus turns his limbs gigantic; — he darts upon the 
 
 crowd , 
 Terrific, withering glances — then sleeps, and snores 
 
 aloud !
 
 H. ilAKOtiRAFK 
 
 CANTO U 
 
 Klaus stands before his Judges, within a gloomy tower, 
 Across the narrow window, pale, rliekeringlight doth lower. 
 Long paragraphs, by thousands, the crimes of Klaus relate, 
 Long paragraphs, unnumbered, foretell the Pirate's fate. 
 
 Thus crieth Stort checker: — „Bah ! — why palaver thus? 
 Haste! ■ — send me to the scaffold, and terminate the fuss ! 
 I'm doomed to execution, and no dissenting voice! 
 Will ye behead, or hang me? — Small difference in 
 
 the choice!" 
 
 „Ye1 ah ! — for Klaus, far better, than idly here to stay, 
 And gaze on you, old Grey-beards, thus, day suc- 
 ceeding day ! 
 In Jurisprudence, doubtless, your knowledge is profound: 
 In battle ye're courageous, with words of valiant sound!*
 
 274 H. MARGGRAFF. 
 
 ., Haste ! — send me to the scaffold, that after durance vile, 
 Again Man's form may cheer me — the sun's light — 
 
 Heaven's bright smile ! 
 On Earth's green , flowery meadow , I pant to stand , 
 
 once more 
 And each limb's free-born vigour to feel, as heretofore!" 
 
 The first Judge thus exclaimeth! — „ Klaus, thou'rt a 
 
 knave ! — by thee 
 
 Our peace hath been endangered , by ruthless piracy ! 
 
 Untried, we could have doomed thee, to death, upon 
 
 the wheel: 
 
 Though judged by statutes legal; — ungrateful dost 
 
 thou feel !" — 
 
 „Ye grave and sapient Judges!" saith Klaus, in thril- 
 ling tone, 
 
 „Sages, to whom death, gallows, wheel, axe, so well 
 
 are known! 
 
 Knave — Pirate — have ye termed me ? — What 
 
 name is given to you? — 
 
 A rookery of Swindlers ! — The Bremen groveling Crew!"
 
 II. MARGORAFF. 275 
 
 „ You practise favourite customs, ns 1 have eVer done; 
 From milk of yours, what gained IV — Superfluous 
 
 cream , alone ! ~ — 
 His manacles and fetters, Klaus rattles, 'mid the air, 
 With nervous arm ! — His Judges shake in each 
 
 oaken chair ! — 
 
 The Judge, his long beard stroking, exclaims, with 
 
 solemn voice : 
 ^Prisoner, Klaus Stortebecker ! — to thee we grant 
 
 the choice; 
 Wilt thou be burned — beheaded — hung — pierced 
 
 with lance-of-steel , 
 With red-hot pinchers tortured, or, broken on the wheel ?" 
 
 „Thy choice, how kind and liberal!" — with stern, 
 unfaltering breath , 
 
 Saith Klaus, — „in truth, a chaplct, of gentle kinds 
 of death ! 
 
 Twould please my fancy better, instead of fire — 
 
 wheel — spear, — 
 
 At home, my limbs «to strengthen with jug? of froth- 
 ing beer!"
 
 276 H MARGGRAFF. 
 
 „Ye Judges! — Death I fear not. — Will death my 
 
 name disgrace ? 
 How oft, the grim old Fellow I've encountered, — face 
 
 to face ! 
 Of this my wounds bear witness ; — wounds , gained 
 
 in desperate war, 
 By foemens' spear , and pistol ! — These limbs bear 
 
 many a scar !" 
 
 „ While , by my sword , I bravely won honourable 
 
 bread , 
 When valiant men of Bremen , beneath that sword lay 
 
 dead, 
 And when , 'mid deadly conflict , ye Judges ! — ere 
 
 was dried 
 The blood of my companions , in gore , your Chiefs 
 
 were dyed ! a 
 
 „For this ye might excuse me, axe — gallows — 
 
 halter — wheel! 
 
 Yet nay ! — Haste and behead me ! — The sword 
 
 I pant to feel : 
 
 You then may boast, with triumph, that 'mid a noble strife, 
 
 By your victorious weapon . was Klaus deprived of life ! a
 
 H. MARUGKAIT. 27 7 
 
 Contented are the Judges : this sentence stem they give : 
 
 „Sinee thou, by theft, and murder, hast, long been 
 
 wont to live , 
 
 Our peace hast thou endangered , at mid-day , night , 
 
 and morn ; 
 Thou langh'st at our remonstrance — our mercy thou 
 
 dost scorn." 
 
 „Since thou, of all art guilty, and more than thi.s 
 
 hast dared ; 
 Prisoner, Klaus Stortebecker ! — our Laws have thus 
 
 declared , 
 As rightful expiation for crime , and piracy, — 
 That thou, and thy companions, by Justice' sword, 
 
 shall die !* — 
 
 Klaus Stortebecker nodded — but not a word he said , 
 And, from the Hall of Judgment, the Pirate bold was led. — 
 The massive walls are trembling ! — Do thunderbolts 
 
 resound?" 
 No? — Stortebecker's footsteps are echoing o'er the 
 
 ground !
 
 278 
 
 ii. MAK({<;iiArr. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 A beauteous May-day morning — the loveliest of days , 
 Bright flowers diffuse mild odours — from Heaven 
 
 smile sunny rays; 
 A day en which would no man, death, grief, or 
 
 pain desire — 
 A day when all would doubly, to life — joy — love 
 
 aspire 
 
 While Spring, with verdant carpet, adorns the perfumed 
 
 meads , 
 With sleeves , tucked to his elbow , prepared for 
 
 bloody deeds ; 
 Behold the skilful Headsman ! — The fatal sword he tries , 
 He laughs, with air sardonic. — The weapon ready lies.
 
 II. B1ABGGRA.FF. 2 7 'J 
 
 The Pirate views the 11' ad-man flourisllthe sword, awhile ; 
 On Klaus' proud lip ariseth a strange, satiric smile, 
 „ Ye Judges!" he exclaimeth, ^undoubtedly, you'll own. 
 Our brave, experienced Headsman, praise-worthy zeal 
 hath shown !- 
 
 „To-day what glorious practice on many a carcass tough! 
 Oh , sharpen well thy weapon ! or 'twill be blunt 
 
 enough , 
 Before thy work is ended , and severed is each head, 
 And ere the soil of Bremen is drunk with blood 
 
 that's shed!" — 
 
 The High-ehief-Justice rising, — this sage discourse 
 
 doth hold : 
 „Since thou, Klaus Stortebecker, art firm, courageous, 
 
 bold ; 
 For thee, and thy companions, now, justly doomed 
 
 to die ; 
 Thou mayst demand one Favour — but, ask with 
 
 modesty." —
 
 280 H. MAKWUKAFJb'. 
 
 Klaus thinks. — Not long he ponders. — „ Since thus 
 
 you, condescend, 
 You, skilled in Jurisprudence! — Sage Aldermen — 
 
 attend ! 
 How modest Klaus' petition! — Brave Judges! — 
 
 I demand 
 That, in one line, my Comrades, assembled, now may 
 
 standi" 
 
 „List ! — when I am beheaded, before them will I tread ; 
 Doubt you my word, sage Judges'? — I'll march, 
 
 without a head ! 
 List! all I pass, erectly, — with head, from body, 
 
 riven, — 
 To all — I claim your Promise , — Life , and Freedom 
 
 shall be given ! " — 
 
 Each Magistrate bewildered, his sapient head doth shake : 
 They scarce refrain from laughter: — „ A strange request 
 
 to make, 
 Oh Klaus ! — A headless carcases to move , and march 
 
 erect ! 
 ,,'Tis past our comprehension, — yet, — our Promise 
 
 we respect. "
 
 II. MARGGHAFF 281 
 
 Thus speaks the learned Chief -Justice: — „We hoge 
 thou mayst succeed! 
 
 Th'exploit thou undertakest is a master-piece, indeed! 
 
 Thou Man of Works mysterious! — this Boon we 
 grant to thee." 
 
 „My Word", saith Stortebecker, „ Oh Judge! will 
 sacred be ! u 
 
 CANTO IV. 
 
 In one straight file assembled , the Pirates stand in view, 
 And, to their Friend — Chief — Hero, they bid a lust adieu. 
 When .-haking hands, at parting, their hardy knuckles 
 
 creak , 
 As when, 'mid storm and tempest, twigs of the forest 
 
 break. 
 
 Klaus saith: — „ I'm free, my Comrades, with all to 
 speak, once more. 
 
 Ere Stortebecker saileth, to greet a distanl shore. 
 
 Yet, ere we part, Companions! — shake hands, as we 
 have done 
 
 So oft, before a sea-fight, ere victory was v •
 
 282 H. MARGGRAFF. 
 
 „The beer betrayed. — A firkin ! — a bagatelle is such; 
 Yet, for Klaus Stortebecker, a barrel proved too much! 
 Still, — - to Ocean's free-born Giants, more honourable, far, 
 To yield to such a Victor, than toBremeners, 'midst war!" 
 
 „ They dared not to attack us on Ocean's boundless 
 
 space ! 
 Like Men — they dared not meet us, my Comrades! — 
 
 face to face ; 
 By yon Sun's light they dared not! — but, when Night's 
 
 dark shades were spread ! 
 With swords they dared not greet us, but — with 
 
 twigs, and knitting-thread ! K — 
 
 „ Farewell! — I now must quit you, Companions of 
 
 the wave ! 
 I hasten to our Fathers; — illustrious Heroes brave. 
 My Friends! — you'll live in freedom, to prove the 
 
 words I've spoken: 
 Hath Stortebecker ever a sacred Promise broken ? K
 
 II. MARC CHAFF. 283 
 
 His last farewell still nodding — Klaus hastens toward 
 
 the block ; 
 How creaks the fatal platform , and trembles 'neath 
 
 the shock! 
 Beneath Klaus' foot gigantic, the seasoned oak-planks bend, 
 As when, o'er reeds and rushes, fierce Boreas' gales 
 
 descend ! — 
 
 LoJ — as the eye's quick twinkling, and with preci- 
 sion dread, 
 
 The glittering sword hath severed Klaus Stortebecker's 
 head! 
 
 T was swift as flash of lightning, beneath May's sunny 
 skies : — 
 
 Behold! — from yonder ladder, — Klaus' headless 
 Corpse doth rise! — 
 
 Klaus walketh from the ladder, while flows life's 
 
 purple gore, 
 Headless, the Pirate marcheth, erect, as heretofore! — 
 As, when possessed of hawk's eye — clear, penetrating, 
 
 bright ; 
 Thus Klaus descends the scaffold, with footstep, bold 
 
 and light !
 
 284 H. MARGGRAFF. 
 
 His hands are crossed behind him! — Behold the 
 Pirate there, 
 
 As though, for recreation, he breathes May's quicken- 
 ing air. 
 
 As Stortebecker wanders, a field-stone doth he lay 
 
 Upon his path, with caution, and , o'er it bends his way. 
 
 Before th'assembled Comrades Klaus moves, triumphantly, 
 
 The third of his Companions — now — now — the 
 half are free ! 
 
 On ! — ■ onward ! — Still advancing , — he moveth o'er 
 the ground, 
 
 While flows the vital torrent, from the neck's wide- 
 opening wound ! — 
 
 Th'assembled countless thousands are shuddering with 
 
 dismay , 
 .As, the Corpse of Stortebecker they view, so brisk 
 
 and gay : 
 They fly in each direction, yet, wheresoe'er they roam, 
 A bleeding Ghost still follows — that Spectre haunts 
 
 each home ! —
 
 II. MARGGRAFF. 385 
 
 Fear-stricken is the Headsman: — his sword falls to 
 
 the ground , 
 And, on his foot alighting, inflicts a desperate wound: 
 That wound now disregarding, the Headsman thus 
 
 doth say : 
 „Ye venerable Judges — how pale are you, to-day!" 
 
 The wan, awe-stricken Judges see nought, save Klaus, alone: 
 As vigorously, he marches, one saith, in trembling tone : 
 „ Yon Pirate must be Satan ! Who doubteth it is he? 
 Who, headless, save the Devil , could walk — better 
 than we ! " 
 
 The course is almost ended, and nearly passed are all; 
 The Corpse becomes more feeble — he totters, — will 
 
 he fall? — 
 „ He falls! — His strength forsakes him! u — a Judge 
 
 enaraptured <■. 
 A few of von Freebooters will yet. become our prize!"
 
 286 H. MARGGRAFF. 
 
 The valiant Corpse now rallies. — As , fired by vengeance 
 
 dread , 
 Klaus' fist, cramped by convulsion, is, toward the Boaster 
 
 spread. 
 The duty to accomplish! The Corpse collects, in haste, 
 Each quivering fibre's vigour — he's dauntless, to the last. 
 
 He makes redoubled efforts — gigantic — yet , the last. 
 The Corpse of Stortebecker hath all his Comrades passed! 
 Once more that Corpse bounds forward , — erect doth 
 
 proudly rise: 
 All think, Klaus shouts with triumph! — Dead, cold, 
 and stiff he lies! — 
 
 Behold, another wonder! — High on the scaffold dread, 
 Doth rise, with gory tresses — Klaus Stortebecker'sHead! 
 He smiles — the lips are opened — he saith: — „A11 
 
 I had spoken, 
 Is verified, ye Judges! My Faith remains unbroken!"
 
 n. KARGGRAFF l'h? 
 
 THE QUEEN OF GANOKE. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 Ganore is a youthful, -widowed Queen: 
 Before her palace-battlements are seen 
 The late King's foeman, and a warlike train; 
 Although repulsed, unconquered they remain. 
 
 Beneath Heaven's azure dome, serenely bright, 
 Shine javelins, like a sparkling sea of light, 
 And, decked with linen, exquisitely lair, 
 Lo! the Chan's snow-white tent is glistening there. 
 
 War-steeds, unniunbercd, traverse o'er the plain, 
 And elephants, a proud, colossean train: 
 The hordes of that Hindoo, can none count o'er, 
 Hordes, from the Ganges, and from Indus' shore.
 
 288 H. MARGGRAFP. 
 
 Like monstrous serpents , tinged with many a dye , 
 The wearied elephants , exhausted lie ; 
 They pant, 'mid India's suffocating air, 
 As the gigantic, living weight, they bear. 
 
 Dread calm , within the city -walls , doth reign , 
 Each views , with silent dread , the warlike train 
 Of that insidious Chief who , from a strand 
 Far distant, comes to claim a Sovereign's hand. — 
 
 When morn illumes the East, with tints of gold, 
 On yon high turret, — whom do all behold? 
 Lightning is flashing from her vivid eye, — 
 Woman , or Goddess , there do we descry ? 
 
 Sylph-like she stands. — Toward Heaven's pure 
 
 glowing rays, 
 How steadfastly is fixed her fiery gaze ! 
 Round that etherial Form rich perfumes flow : 
 Like Ganges' sacred wave she trembles now ! 
 
 As morn ing-vap our , hovering in the air, 
 
 Around that Form is twined a vesture fair ; 
 
 Her graceful limbs — her veins' blue, ebbing tide , 
 
 Chaste, undulating folds of muslin hide. —
 
 H. MARGGRAFF. 289 
 
 The Chan, with eestacy, surveys the Queen: 
 
 He gazes on her, with enraptured mien, 
 
 As , on the castle-balcony reclined , 
 
 She feels refreshed by morning's quickening wind. — 
 
 Voluptuous desire inflames each vein , 
 And, o'er his soul, the gentler passions reign. 
 The Chan has yielded to the power of love, 
 Like swan that doth, 'mid lotus-blossoms, move. 
 
 While love ungovernable chafes his heart, 
 The Chiefs Ambassadors , in haste , depart , 
 And, to the beauteous widowed Sovereign, bear 
 Vesture magnificent, and jewels rare. 
 
 The Envoys are commissioned, to demand, 
 For the Beseiger, the fair "Widow's hand; 
 To share his throne and realm, in peace te live 
 And life, unto the Monarch's life, to give. — 
 
 She summonses, around the regal throne, 
 Her ministers, in duty, aged grown; 
 On those relying, fain, the Queen would know . 
 If her battalions can repress the foe. — 
 
 19
 
 290 H. MARGGRAFF. 
 
 Thus speaks the first, with tears, and sorrowing mien: 
 „How many, in the market-place, I've seen, 
 Their warm life-blood extracting from the vein! 
 Mothers, by hunger pressed, their babes have slain!" 
 
 Thus speaks the second Counsellor , and weeps : 
 „Like dread, swollen serpent, Pestilence now creeps 
 From house to house ! — O'er Plague's victorious way, 
 The weakest, and the strongest are a prey ! " 
 
 Thus speaks the third: „To chase the haughty foe, 
 Stand ramparts only ! — dead their Guardians , now ! 
 The Flower of our brave Youth was doomed to fall: 
 Age only guards each battlement, and wall !* — 
 
 Amid her clustering vesture the young Queen 
 Conceals her brow : — she cries with troubled mien ; 
 „The Remnant of my people will I shield 
 And, to an ignominious Fate, will yield!"
 
 11. MAKWOKAIT 29] 
 
 Drums hoarsely beat, in the Queen's ball doth float 
 The flute's expressive , melancholy note. 
 Gay Bayaderes , with tresses unconfmed , 
 Amid voluptuous, circling dances, wind. 
 
 See! — on the palace-balcony, beside 
 
 A hated Bridegroom, — stands a peerless Bride, 
 O'er whose pale, quivering lip, glides feverish breath, 
 The Queen's eye darts the withering glance of death! — 
 
 Lo ! — suddenly the Chan his tunic rends , 
 And, at his feet, the silken vest descends; 
 Each limb he writhes, in speechless agony, 
 And, on the ground, his turban rich doth lie. 
 
 With checkerd hue the blond has tinged his eye, 
 So late illumined by hilarity : 
 
 His cheek convulsed, deep wrinkles now surround, 
 Like serpents, coiling 'mid grass-tangled ground ! —
 
 292 H - MARGGRAFF. 
 
 The Gods, and Demons he invokes, in prayer, 
 And desperately strives the vest to tear; 
 That robe appears, in Sands, around him grown, 
 Inflicting deep incisions, to the bone! — 
 
 The Queen exclaims: „Forbear! — Tis now too late! 
 The Goddess Kali's* oath has sealed thy fate. 
 Thy crime towards me entails a fearful doom; — 
 Yet, in chaste Widowhood, I greet the tomb!" 
 
 „In vain thy toil t'arrest the poisonous tide! 
 With serpents' venom is each garment dyed. 
 In vain thy toil ! In vain, on Heaven, to call ! 
 On thee, may Haraka's** dread torments fall!" — 
 
 The Queen retires. — Life's conflict stern is o'er ! 
 She slumbers on the Ganges' halloAved shore. 
 Luxuriant lotus-leaves her tomb o'erspread, 
 And perfumed lotus-flowers embalm the Dead. 
 
 *) Kali, the Goddess of vongeance. 
 **) Haraka, the Inferal regions of the Indians.
 
 J. \V. vun (JOETHE. 293 
 
 THE LOVER UNDER MANY FORMS. 
 
 How I ardently wish 
 That I were a fish ! 
 To be captured by thee , 
 What bliss would it be! 
 How sincerely I wish 
 I now were a fish ! 
 
 Oh ! if I were thy steed , 
 I would gallop with speed ! 
 As thy horse would I l'ove 
 To obtain thy love ; 
 I , a courser , would be , 
 To be prized by thee ! 
 
 Oh, I wish I were gold, 
 
 Yes ! — ever thy gold , 
 
 And, whene'er thou wouldst buy, 
 
 To thee would 1 fly. 
 
 What delight to be gold, 
 
 Yes ! — ever thy gold.
 
 294 J. W. von GOETHE. 
 
 How I wish I were true 
 
 To all Charmers new ! 
 
 I would love them for ever, 
 
 And part from them never. 
 
 I wish I were true 
 
 To each Fair-one new ! 
 
 How I pant to be old, 
 Grey, wrinkled, and cold, 
 Then I should not complain 
 Of thy proud disdain, 
 How I pant to be old, 
 Grey, wrinkled, and cold! 
 
 Fain , an ape , would be , 
 Full of mirth, and glee, 
 That by frolic, and play, 
 Could thy frowns chase away 
 Fain , an ape would I be , 
 Full of mirth and glee ! 
 
 Lion-like I'd be bold, 
 Mild as lamb, in the fold, 
 Keen as lynx would I see, 
 Deep as reynard would be; - 
 I'd be brave as a lion, 
 Vet , mild as a lamb !
 
 j. \V. von QOETHE. 
 
 Ah I — whate'ei 1 may move, 
 Tis to win thy love. 
 Were I rich as a king, 
 Stores, to thee, would I bring, 
 For, whate'er I may be, 
 'Tis for love to thee ! 
 
 As I am, I'll be thine, 
 If thou wilt be mine. — 
 Has another thy heart? 
 Then, fair Maiden, depart! 
 Rich, or poor, 111 be thine, 
 If thou wilt be mine ! 
 
 290
 
 296 J. W. von GOETHE. 
 
 THE GOLDSMITH'S COMPANION. 
 
 Beauteous Enchantress of my heart, 
 My gentle neighbour fair ! 
 
 My glances , toward thy shop , e'er dart , 
 When thou art seated there. 
 
 When, on the ring, and golden chain, 
 
 I work with industry, 
 Oh Kate! — I wish, and wish, again, 
 
 Would , they were both for thee ! 
 
 When thou , at morn's awakening smile , 
 Dost take the shutters down , 
 
 To buy of thee, or chat awhile, 
 
 Flock neighbours from the town. 
 
 I polish ; — ah ! the chain of gold 
 
 Is tangled in my hands. 
 The master frowns with aspect cold . 
 
 My grief he understands. —
 
 J. W. von GOETHE. 29' 
 
 The Maiden , with alacrity , 
 
 Doth to th(; wheel repair; 
 I know what she would spin for me , 
 
 For Hope is hovering there. — 
 
 Now, pit-a-pat, with movement light, 
 Her foot moves rapidly; ■ — 
 
 Do I behold the garter bright, 
 
 That Kate received from me? — 
 
 Yon tiny thread the, Maiden dear, 
 To that bright lip doth press ; 
 
 Oh Kate beloved! — were I as near, 
 "What bliss should I possess !
 
 298 J. W. von GOETHE. 
 
 ANSWERS ON 
 
 CONVERSATION-CARDS. 
 
 LADY. 
 
 Say, what delighteth womankind, 
 
 Amid the world , both small and great ? — 
 Tis Novelty, for there we find 
 
 Garlands for all, — yet, in each state, 
 Fidelity most charms the mind; 
 
 At harvest-time doth she bestow 
 
 Both fruit, and flowers, that brightly glow. 
 
 THE YOUNG GALLANT. 
 Paris, in forest, hill, and grove, 
 
 By many a wood-nymph fair , was known , 
 Till, to perplex him in his love, 
 
 By Jove, three Goddesses were shown. 
 Was ever mortal doomed to prove, 
 
 In modern times, or days of yore, 
 
 Perplexity, like this, before? 
 
 THE EXPERIENCED. 
 With gentleness approach the Fair, 
 
 If e'er, her suffrage, thou woulclst gain; 
 They who, with courage, persevere,
 
 J. W. v..,, GOETHE. 299 
 
 Perchance, her favour, may obtain; 
 Yet, he who seemeth, least, to fear 
 To gain the witching smile of love, 
 The most alluring, o'er will prove. 
 
 THE SATISFIED. 
 Man is the prey of care , and strife , 
 
 What countless woes besiege his heart , 
 With deep excitement ever rife ! 
 
 Yet, many a pleasure doth impart 
 This circling, fluctuating life; 
 
 A disposition , gay and free , 
 
 Is life's most choice felicity. 
 
 THE JOYOUS COUNSELLOR. 
 
 fie who 'gainst folly doth complain, 
 
 With cynic's loud, sarcastic tone, 
 And, while mankind, e'er, fools remain, 
 
 By each fool — is esteemed as one, — 
 Like beast of burden is oppressed, 
 
 And , moveth towards the mill , with care ! 
 As feelings actuate my breast, 
 
 The load of Life I'll ever bear.
 
 ROBERT EDWARD PRDTZ. 
 
 Robert Edward Prutz was born the 30th May 1816 
 at Stettin, and, at the Gymnasium of that city, he 
 pursued a preliminary course of education. From 1834 
 until 1838 he studied philology, philosophy, and 
 history at the Universities of Berlin , Breslaw and 
 Halle. At the termination of his academical studies, 
 he obtained, at the latter University, the grade of 
 Doctor. He took a very active part in the „Annals of 
 Halle," which, at a later period, were entitled „Dentsche 
 Jahrbiicher" published by A. Ruge. 
 
 In 1841, shortly after his marriage, he repaired 
 to Jena, with the intention of residing there, as Pro- 
 fessor, but the enthusiastic part which he had taken 
 in that political movement which agitated Prussia , and 
 of which his literary productions were the faithful 
 mirror , formed insurmountable obstacles to the execution 
 of his design. In the year 1843 M. Dahlmann was 
 appointed , by the Prussian Government , Professor, at
 
 R. E. I'M TZ. o<»l 
 
 the University of Bonn , and R Prutz , at this period, 
 addressed to him a poetical composition which occa- 
 sioned his expulsion from the Grand-duchy of Saxe- 
 Weimar. M. DahlmanD was the author of a ..History 
 of the Revolution in England. 11 
 
 Prutz resolved on repairing to Halle, in order 
 to capacitate himself to become Professor at the I Di- 
 versity of that city; but the Ministers, Arnim and 
 Eichhorn would nol allow him to execute his project. 
 lie subsequently devoted his time, almost exclusively, 
 to literary productions, historical, lyrical, and espe- 
 cially dramatic; but these occupations did not pr< 
 his having unceasing conflicts with the Government. 
 His ^Maurice of Saxony," after the first representation 
 at the Theatre of Berlin, was forbidden to appear in 
 the Prussian dominions. 
 
 On account of the publication of the .. Politiscke 
 Wockenstube," he was prosecuted, on a charge; of high 
 treason. In 1846, after this process had been annulled, 
 at the express desire of the King, Prutz held a dis- 
 course respecting the German Theatre , before a 
 numerous assembly at Berlin. His dissertation on the 
 progress of modern German literature, -which he 
 undertook, in the same city, the following winter, 
 was forbidden, after the delivery of th<' firsi lecture, 
 and this circumstance gave rise to new . and unabated
 
 302 H. K. PRUTZ. 
 
 persecutions, until, at Easter 1847, he was appointed 
 as teacher of the scenic art , at Hamburg. However, 
 this undertaking which appeared so alluring, was soon 
 discovered to be purely a lucrative speculation on the 
 part of the directors, and the artistic interests which 
 Prutz was desirous to encourage, formed a secondary 
 consideration, and for that reason, at the expiration 
 of two months, our Poet abandoned his employment. 
 During some time he resided, as a private indivi- 
 dual, at Hamburg and Leipsic, principally occupied 
 Avith historical works. 
 
 In 1848, when the Revolution broke out at Ber- 
 lin , Prutz returned to that city , and became a very 
 active member of the constitutional Monarchy, after 
 having, for a long period, belonged to the demo- 
 cratic party. When the catastroply of November took 
 place at Berlin, he quitted that city, and repaired to 
 his birth-place, Stettin, where he gave lectures on 
 modern history. In the spring of 1849 he accepted 
 a position as, Professor of history at the University 
 of Halle. This employment which was conferred on 
 him by the Prussian government, he now occupies. 
 Since the year 1850, he has published the ^Deutsche 
 Museum," a Review for literature, art, and public life. 
 In his prose writings, R. Prutz has manifested an 
 extraordinary fecundity : his poetical compositions exhibit
 
 H. E. PRUTZ. : * (l ^ 
 
 an extreme elegance of style, and a also betray depth of 
 feeling which flows from the warm sources of a generous 
 
 and noble heart. 
 
 The chief Works of Prutz are: 
 
 A FAIRY-TALE. An allegorical Poem against Russia, Leipsic, 1841. 
 POEMS. Lein Ic, 1841. New Edition, Zurich and Winterthur, 1843. 
 THE SOCIETY OF POETS AT GOTTINGEN. A History of Q 
 
 Literature Leipsic, 1841. 
 AHISTORY OF GERM \\ JOl RNALISM. First Volume, Hanover, 1845. 
 CHARLES OF BOURBON. A Tragedj in 5 Acts. Hanover, 1845. 
 POLITISCHE WOCHENSTUBE. A Comedy. Zurich, 1844. SrdEdition 1845. 
 MAURICE OF SAXONY. A Comedy in 5 Acts. Zurich, 1845. 
 DISCOURSE ON THE HISTORY <>F THE GERMAN THEATRE. Berlin, 
 
 1847. 
 TEN YEARS OF MODERN HISTORY, (from 1840—1850) .". Volumes 
 
 Leipsic. 
 R. E. Prutz hiis written a great many other Works.
 
 304 U. E. PRUTZ. 
 
 ALGIERS. 
 
 Algiers is vanquished! — On Kasaubah's wall 
 
 The Gallic pennon floats — red , blue , and white ; 
 
 The drum is silent; evening shadows fall, 
 To notes belligerent, succeeds cairn night. 
 
 The scattered fragments of a bastion lie 
 
 Where graceful palm-trees wave their branches high. 
 
 A Soldier of the foreign legion 
 
 Is there; his cheek is ruddy, blue his eye, 
 A Moor is nigh; the deserts' swarthy son, 
 
 A Youth, advancing towards maturity, 
 The German Soldier's prize, amid the spoil, 
 Captured 'mid war, on Afric's yellow soil. 
 
 The balmy air, to converse, doth invite; 
 
 Around the Gallic camp, bright watch-fires glow, 
 How brilliant is the stars' unclouded light! 
 
 No zephyr breathes — sounds, from a distance, flow: 
 Against the rocks, waves undulating play, 
 While converse doth beguile night's hours away.
 
 K. E. PBUTZ. 305 
 
 One from the North , and one the desert's child ; 
 
 On each young brew , rancour and grief, leave trace , 
 Each hears, surprised, his comrade's history wild. — 
 
 The Moor thus speaks : — ,,1'm of Bedouin race , 
 My father was a Chief, of glorious name, 
 His equal never lived, in deeds of fame!" 
 
 My house the desert; o'er me, as a tent, 
 
 Heaven spreads her canopy ; my sole delight 
 
 Is my beloved steed. I'm early sent 
 
 The art of war to learn , where heroes fight ; 
 
 When, through the plains, I chase the swift gazelle, 
 
 As horseman , all confees that I excel." 
 
 „ Youth's flower is blighted! — What, to me, remains? 
 
 Destroyed , or lost , is all that I possessed , 
 And, o'er these hands, entwine a captive's chains!" — 
 
 Conflicting thoughts o'erwhelm the German's breast. 
 While speaking of his cherished fatherland, 
 And native city, on a distant strand , 
 
 Where rise stone mansions, stage, succeeding stage, 
 
 And where his honoured sire , in knowledge sound, 
 Commands the veneration of the age : 
 
 ao
 
 306 K. K. PKUTZ. 
 
 He speaketh of the school's contracted bound, 
 Where Wisdom's lore, and mirth, the time divide: 
 He talks of Winter's joys at eventide. 
 
 He tells students wild , with spirit free ; 
 
 Now clash their glasses — now their falschions rise : 
 He speaks of caps they guard, mysteriously, — 
 
 Of duels, agents of police, and spies. 
 A fatal wound is given, 'midst deadly strife! — 
 Now roves a Wanderer, o'er the stage of life! 
 
 Who tells the se quel of his destiny ? 
 
 What varied scenes await the Fugitive! 
 Those scenes, on time's e'er-circling pinion, fly, 
 
 Yet, deeply -traced , on memory's page will live! 
 How taciturn the desert's Son doth stand, 
 He seems to dream ; — his eye fixed on the sand ! — 
 
 TheMoor's bright glance is turn'd towardHeaven'spure light: 
 „Fatiina ! — Fatima ! — The gazelle see'st thou , 
 
 With agile footstep , glide o'er Atlas' height ? 
 Her eye is brilliant as the moon's mild glow, 
 
 That smiles , unclouded , from Heaven's blue domain , 
 
 And clear as crystal rivulet, on the plain!"
 
 K E. PKUTZ. 3( '7 
 
 „How dark her tresses!- Darker than night's ray. 
 
 And, like the beauteous anemony, 
 [s that warm glow which, o'er her cheek, dotli play; 
 
 Her breath is perfumed, as the coffee-tree, 
 That Yemen's sunny, fostering rays emhrown: 
 Fatima! — Fatima! — thou'rt the maidens 1 crown!" 
 
 .. Distant LS Ali; — Fatima sheds tear,-; 
 
 Ali, midst foreign foes, doth captive lie!* — 
 The German starts: — before his eye appears 
 
 His own Belov'd, with cheek, of pallid die; 
 Behind the wood he views that verdant spot, 
 O'er which, at eve, he wandered to her cot! 
 
 He sees the honey -suckle -covered bowers 
 
 In which, 'neath star-lit skies, they used to meet, 
 
 And joyously beguile the summer hours. 
 
 The Soldier cries: „Stranger! — depart! — be fleet! 
 
 Behold! 1 rend the Captive's fetters noi 
 
 Forth! — morn's chill air is glancing on my brow." 
 
 „Son of the Desert linger not; — thou'rt tVee!"- 
 
 jjThanks!" cries the Moor, while kneeling at his fleet. — 
 The German leads him, in security.
 
 308 R. E. PRUTZ. 
 
 'Mid sentinels; — gives him his charger fleet, 
 And bids him hasten homeward. — Swift as wind 
 He rides, while clouds of dust ascend behind. — 
 
 The German gazes, till he disappears, 
 
 Then turns, with eye, bedimmed with gushing tears.
 
 K. B. PRUTZ. 309 
 
 THE MOTHER <>F THE COSSACKS. 
 
 Oh! let thy tresses wave, 'mid sea-winds wild: 
 
 Thou Mother desolate! — thy vesture rend. 
 Haste! — hasten towards thy last-surviving child; 
 
 Ah! — thither, from this strand, thy glances bend! — 
 Mid distant mountains was th'ensanguined fray, 
 
 In the rebellion, — Hetman was thy Son; — 
 That Chieftain fell! — Behold! - - o'er crystal spray, 
 
 His blood-stained Corse the waves bear slowly on ! — 
 
 With her compared — what mother was so blest, 
 
 'Mid all the parents of the verdant plain? 
 Three Sons were hers — of all, now dispossessed, — 
 
 The traces of their grave she seeks, in vain. 
 The first responded to war's stern appeal; 
 
 In battle 'gainst the Turks, his fame was spread: 
 The Pasha, from his horse, fell 'neath his steel, 
 
 And, side by side, they found a gory bed!
 
 310 B. B. PRUTZ. 
 
 What recompense! — At the convivial board, 
 
 When flushed by generous wine, the second Son, 
 
 Too hardily spoke one unguarded word . 
 
 On Catharina — and became undone! — 
 How readily a Traitor finds an ear! 
 
 That word flew swift as blood-hound, or the wind. 
 Far from celestial day — oh! doom severe: 
 
 In fetters, in a mine, was he confined! — 
 
 Her youngest still remained — the Son of sorrow, 
 
 With jetty hair, and eye of tender blue, 
 A gentle Child : — from him tier heart doth borrow 
 
 Now gall and wormwood — now balsamic dew! 
 How oft, at midnight-hour had she been seen, 
 
 From sleep to start, and, by a lamp's pale light, 
 (laze on th' unconscious boy, with troubled mien, 
 
 Then, near that slumbering Treasure, pass the night ! 
 
 He grew: like morning sun-beam was his glance, 
 
 The world he entered, proud and joyously; 
 Who, as that graceful Youth, could guide the lance, 
 
 Or who restrain the fiery steed, as he? — 
 At evening, when he sang th' harmonious air, 
 
 Each ear was charmed — each whisper was suppressed 
 Applause succeeded — many a maiden fair 
 
 Concealed the struggling feeling of her breast. —
 
 U. E. PRUTZ. 311 
 
 Behold! to exercise demoniac sway, 
 
 And, as a tyrant, Justice to afford, 
 Arrived Pugatschew: — gore defiled his way, 
 
 And his official Sceptre was a sword! — 
 Cries of „7b arms!" and „Liberty l (t resound, 
 
 As arrow swift, impelled by Rancour's breath, 
 And every chain that clinked upon the ground, 
 
 Was changed to Vengeance' instrument of Death! — 
 
 War's stifled murmurs reached the Mother's ear: 
 
 Two days she sat, immersed in thought, and lone; 
 The third, 'mid night's mysterious silence drear, 
 
 She glided, and thus whispered to her Son: — 
 -Mine Elder-born, on foreign soil, doth lie! 
 
 In mines — thine only Brother is confined!- . . . 
 She ends — he understands — makes no reply, 
 
 But he commands his charger, swift as wind. — 
 
 The Parent shed uo tear, when morning came, 
 
 And when she bade thai Son beloved; — ^Farewell!* 
 Yet, soon that noble Mother knew that Fame, 
 
 Her wing had spread, her Son's exploits, to tell. — 
 His falchion, bright as lightning from the sky, 
 
 Bore death around! — His flag was dyed with blood! 
 On! — - on! — Still forward! — Flushed by victory, 
 
 Lo! — within Moscow's sacred walls, he stood!
 
 312 R. E. PRUTZ. 
 
 Ah! — Providence a different fate ordains. — 
 
 Far 'mid the mountains was th' ensanguined fight. 
 Hark! — war -steeds gallop wildly o'er the plains, — 
 
 Armed Cossacks throng midst calm, mysterious night! — 
 „ We're vanquished and dispersed! — The conflict's o'er! 
 
 In the rebellion — Hetman was thy son : — 
 Haste ! Hasten forth ! — Behold ! towards yonder shore , 
 
 His blood-stained Corse — the waves bear slowly on!" — 
 
 The Mother hears but speaks not; — yet, her eye 
 
 Like star bedimmed , is fixed upon the strand ; 
 She rests an instant in uncertainty, 
 
 And now erect , and statue-like , doth stand. 
 When that dark eye is raised, in mute despair, 
 
 The traces of the Cossack troops are flown: 
 As thunder, tramp of war-steeds, glides through air, 
 
 At distance — but the neighbourhood is lone. — 
 
 Yes! all is tranquil, save, that Mother's heart, 
 
 Which writhes beneath unutterable throes! 
 The harrowing words the Cossack Chiefs impart, 
 
 Awake the echo of eternal woes! — 
 Unhappy Mother! — if a God had given 
 
 Thee, tones t'express the sorrows, borne by thee, 
 Thy griefs would move sun, moon, the stars of Heaven, 
 
 And desert's inmates , unto sympathy ! —
 
 R. E. PKITZ. 8 1 3 
 
 Gay sun-beams gild thai solitary spot, 
 
 Her pallid brow is turned from morn's bright ray ; 
 The lustre of the sun she loveth not, 
 
 It 'wakes to duty ; — ah ! she must obey. 
 She forth must wander, and, on yon bleak strand, 
 
 Seek her lost Treasure , 'mid th' ensanguined spray ; 
 What solace , if a -tomb , that Mother's hand 
 
 Can form, and on Earth's breast , her Offspring lay ! — 
 
 Oh, Death, imperious King! — What, thee can move' 
 
 If a lone Mother's tears affect not thee ? 
 Still , to her woe , a solace will it prove , 
 
 At the beloved one's grave, to bend her knee! 
 On verdant hills, how soothing to recline! 
 
 How balmy, tears that flow, 'mid fervent prayer, 
 Near tombs, when angels' pinions divine 
 
 Waft melancholy consolation there! — 
 
 That balm , to her denied ! — On foreign soil 
 
 Lie bleached, the relics of her elder Son: 
 O'er her first-born, in mines, condemned to toil, 
 
 'Mid caverns — gently weeps the humid stone! — 
 Convey , with tenderness , the youngest Child , 
 
 Ye waves that oft, with vigorous, nervous hand, 
 He ploughed , o'er breakers , and 'mid tempests wild ! 
 
 Ye waves propitious ! — bear him to the land ! —
 
 314 R. E. PRUTZ. 
 
 She sits , with hands reclined upon her knee , 
 The ebbing current with her vesture plays , 
 
 The water she regardeth anxiously, 
 
 Yes ! — as an eagle , from her nest , doth gaze. 
 
 The tide shines brightly , with a coral dye , 
 
 As though rose-gardens bloomed beneath the flood; 
 
 'Tis not the blush — of morning's glowing sky , 
 
 There sleep the Dead! — the waves are tinged with blood. 
 
 A Column dense — confused rushes along, 
 
 With dread velocity, towards that lone shore : 
 
 As though, reluctantly, advancing on, 
 
 The waves , with melancholy echo , roar. 
 
 Lo ! — arms , and standards mingle with the Dead : 
 Afar, there glides a quiver, crushed and leer; 
 
 Amid the torrent, broken shields are spread, 
 
 There, without rein and saddle, steeds appear. 
 
 What shoals of Dead! — From many an opening wound , 
 
 The purple, ebbing life-blood still doth flow; 
 That lip distorted, still, marks grief profound, 
 
 That hand is clenched for Vengeance' fatal blow ! 
 With garments torn, and with dishevelled hair, 
 
 Like wearied rowers, lie the mangled Slain; 
 On ! — drifting on ! — the crimson waves still bear 
 
 That fearful Armament across the main !
 
 U. B. PEUTZ. 315 
 
 Tlic Mother .stands transfixed. — Ne'er, on that shore, 
 
 Did fisherman feel such anxiety, 
 Nor diver, when he sought that treasured Lore 
 
 Which, deep in ocean's mystic cave, doth lie. 
 How throbs her heart! — how feverish is her blood! 
 
 Her penetrating eye is opened wide, 
 And nought disturbs that dreary solitude, 
 
 Save, wave o'er wave, commingling on the tide. 
 
 Who, circled by the Dead, approacheth now, 
 
 To seek a tomb on that umbrageous shore ? 
 By wounds disfigured is that haughty brow, 
 
 Thai *'orse — a friend could recognize, no more. 
 Jjy decorations, on his breast, she learns, 
 
 That once, on him, had Catharina smiled: — 
 The mangled Form, indignantly, she spurns; 
 
 That Russian was the foeman of her Child! 
 
 Death's ranks press on! — Eve's drapery veils the Bky, 
 
 ( 'hill nighl advances: — hark ! — what rushing sound. 
 Like flapping wings! — What shrill, deep-piercing 
 
 Harrowing — discordant — echoeth around! — 
 Raven and vulture fierce, their pinion spread, 
 
 And, towards the War-feast, greedily dart on: — 
 „My God! preserve the Relies of the dead; 
 
 Lei not those talons desecrate my Son.- —
 
 31 fi RE. PRUTZ. 
 
 On high she waves her hand ; — from earth she springs, 
 
 'Mid caverned rocks re-echoeth her tone; 
 The vulture fierce, and raven, clap their wings, 
 
 In circles hover round her , — now are flown. 
 No sound reverberates, save, the night-winds wild. 
 
 O'er yonder torrent smiles a star-lit sky; 
 Yet, as her vivid glances seek her Child, 
 
 More bright than star's is that lone Mother's eye. 
 
 She starts! — Ah! no deceiver is that heart: 
 
 Behold! — behold! — is yonder Form unknown V 
 He comes — his brow pierced by a foeman's dart ; 
 
 Compassionating Heaven ! — There lies her Son , 
 Whose clustering locks she oft had tressed with care; 
 
 Now, on a watery pillow, doth he rest; 
 While swiftly flows the tide, waves gently bear 
 
 That Form ensanguined , towards a Mother's breast ! 
 
 „Thou shalt not perish 'neath those waters wild 
 
 To which thou wast consigned, by savage foe: 
 To me thou'lt not be dead, beloved Child, 
 
 If, o'er thy grave, a Parent's tear may flow!" — 
 She speaks, and rushes forth, with frenzied haste, 
 
 And, 'mid conflicting waves, her path she bends: 
 How foams the tide i — it reaches to her waist , 
 
 Now to her breast, the gurgling flood ascends.
 
 R. K. PMJTZ. 317 
 
 She clasps his vesture, — now his rigid hand, 
 
 The Mother's arms enfold that stiffened Form; 
 Yet, steep and slippery is the rocky strand, 
 
 She stems the current, with enfeebled arm! 
 The relics of the Slain, in dread array, 
 
 Still drift along, a countless multitude; 
 They circle round her — press her toward the spray 
 
 On — farther onward, 'neath the sombre flood! 
 
 Wrestling with death, — her child she claspeth fast: 
 
 Now, toward the depths, she willingly moves u\\ , 
 Her arm bestowing an embrace, — the last 
 
 The dying Mother gives her lifeless Son! — 
 Her hands now fall, her knee support denies, 
 
 Her clustering tresses float amid the wave; 
 On the young Cossack's breast his Parent dies: — 
 
 The Son and Mother find a watery grave! — 
 
 The Slain, by heavy-laden waves, are driven, 
 
 A countless Rear-guard dread, in straggling riles. 
 Till, pale become th'attesting stars of Heaven, 
 
 Nocturnal mists disperse, and morning smiles. — 
 Lo! — that which tints the flood, with roseate dye, 
 
 Is not the gore, on field -of- battle shed; — 
 No! — 'tis the Sun, amid the eastern sky, — 
 
 God's Messenger, midst human Vengeance dread!
 
 318 K. E. PRUTZ. 
 
 BRITTANY. 
 
 (1793) 
 
 Hark! — on the shore of Brittany, what vivifies night's 
 silence lone! 
 
 O'er ocean's waves, and billows wild, re-echoes a melo- 
 dious tone. 
 
 List! — list! — a bell vibrateth there: gentle, har- 
 monious, and clear; 
 
 The vessel's bell resoundeth not, no sailor's joyous 
 voice is near. — ■ 
 
 Upon the coast of Brittany a race of ancient manners dwell, 
 
 And, in their circle, God, Crown, King, from times 
 remote, were loved, full well. 
 
 Alas! the King has been condemned; the shrine, and 
 sanctuary door 
 
 Are now beseiged by ruthless hordes with swords, de- 
 filed with human gore !
 
 k. e. i'iutz. :;i '.i 
 
 „ Eternal peace to our loved King! — Alas! from him 
 
 we're doomed to part, 
 STet, nought obliterates thai Creed engrafted deeply, 
 
 in our heart! 
 God e'er exists in every place, in ocean-cave, and 
 
 mountain, high, 
 And, wheresoever we may roam, God deigns to hear 
 
 his children's cry.'- — 
 
 „List! list! Behold yon evening star! Calm night, oh, 
 welcome! thee we hail! 
 
 For wounds, a balsam dost thou give, to Piety, arl 
 thou a veil! 
 
 Gently, oh, gently loose the boat; replace bait, fish- 
 hook, tackling, line, 
 
 Deceive each lurker, and each spy! 'Mid waves per- 
 form the rites divine!" — 
 
 The oars, with rapid movement ply; — age, youth, 
 
 wives, husbands, cross the main, 
 And, as their forefathers prescribed, they worship, as 
 
 God's laws ordain. 
 One moves towards the baptismal font; some haste to 
 
 pledge the nuptial vow, 
 Some hear consolatory words that, from the Pastor's 
 
 lip, now flow. —
 
 320 R- Bj pun z. 
 
 Behold! surrounded by his flock, the Cross and Host 
 
 the Priest doth, bear, 
 Lo! at his side, young fisher-boys, devoutly waft 
 
 sweet incense there; 
 From rippling waves, what murmurs clear, amid the 
 
 Choir's sweet accents blend! 
 How soothing that bell's silvery tone! What countless 
 
 prayers, toward Heaven, ascend! — 
 
 'Mid heaving waves, on ocean deep, the aged Pastor 
 
 blesseth all, 
 They sign the Cross upon their breast, and, on their 
 
 knee, devoutly fall. — 
 'Mid billows of the raging main their joyous, choral 
 
 voices rise, 
 As whirlwinds roar, hail — rain descends, and vivid 
 
 lightning cleaves the skies! — 
 
 „Our Father! — every where art thou! — on earth 
 and sea, 'mid calms and wind, 
 
 May billows wild a Church now prove, and here, pro- 
 tection may we find!" — 
 
 Thunder reverberates through air, as choral anthems 
 vibrate round, 
 
 The vessel's rudder — deck — masts crash, comming- 
 ling with guns' echoing sound! —
 
 K. E. im;c i r. 321 
 
 Look! — look behind! — ■ Brighl watch-fires burn, 
 with gleaming blaze, on yonder strand. 
 
 Behold yon dauntless warriors, in boats, approaching, 
 from the land. 
 
 Look! — look above! — The frowning Heavens appear 
 i of fiery waves. 
 
 Death on the ocean! -— Death on land! — Nought, 
 earthly, from destruction saves! — 
 
 „Oh Father! -- every whore art thou: thy dwelling- 
 place is land, and se 
 
 And thej who perish 'neath the Deep, may dwell, 
 in endless bliss with thee!* 
 
 'Mid hurricanes' tempestuous breath — 'mid foemen's 
 smiles, while billows roar, 
 
 Their choral voices, by the winds, are waited toward 
 the neighbouring shore. — 
 
 Farewell! — ye pious Suppliants greet ne'er yom 
 
 fatherland, again: 
 The faithful Shepherd and his floch have died beneath 
 
 the treacherous main! — 
 When re-awakeneth rosy day; — 'mid fragments of 
 
 the wreck, and sand . 
 Glistening beneath Heaven's sunn} ray, behold, the 
 
 Cross, upon the strand! 
 
 21
 
 322 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 EVENING. 
 
 Written on seeing a Painting representing Sun -set. 
 
 Thou radiant God! — oh, veil thy light divine, 
 For evening's halmy dew doth Nature pine; 
 The steeds, amid yon heavenly way, 
 Draw, languidly, the car of day. 
 
 Who, from the crystal waves, doth gently dart 
 A fascinating glance? — Responds thy heart? 
 More rapid is the coursers' flight, 
 Thetis the Fair doth thee invite. — 
 
 The Charioteer, swift, towards the azure main 
 Hastens to Thetis — Cupid holds the rein; 
 The coursers of the sun allay 
 Their thirst on ocean's silvery spray. — 
 
 Night's mist envelopes yon celestial dome, 
 Lo! with aerial pinion, Love doth roam. 
 May peaceful sleep each eye-lid close 
 While ardent Phoebus takes repose!
 
 J. C. F. von SCEIILLEK. 323 
 
 THE DEAL. 
 
 Faithless Spirit! — wilt thou forsake me, 
 
 With each celestial fantasy — 
 Each bliss and tender grief — and make me 
 
 A Wanderer lone, uncheer'd by thee? — 
 Hast thou abandoned me, for ever, 
 
 Thou Genius of life's golden May? — 
 Eternity's unfathomed river 
 
 Bears thee, vemorselessly, away! 
 
 Eclipsed is Joy's brigh.1 sun! Youth's pleasures, 
 
 And fascinations now depart. 
 The Ideal is vanished, with those treasures 
 
 That, once, enthralled my sanguine heart. 
 That Creed enchanting, taught 'mid slumbers. — 
 
 Written with Heaven's own glowing ray, 
 Attuned to harmony's sweet numbers, 
 
 To frigid Life is now a prey! —
 
 324 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 Pygmalion once, with ardour glowing, 
 
 Clasped to his breast the frigid stone; 
 On Art's fair Statue life bestowing 
 
 Which, from the Sculptor's soul, had flown; - 
 I thus loved Nature — thus embraced her 
 
 With a young Poet's fervent zeal, 
 Till vivified, new beauty graced her; — 
 
 My sympathies she seemed to feel. 
 
 My rapturous enjoyment sharing, 
 
 She learned, responses, to impart, 
 Bestowed the kiss of love, endearing, 
 
 And solved each mystery of my heart. 
 Then flower and tree, for me were breathing, 
 
 Each brook harmoniously flowed, 
 Garlands the soulless then was wreathing; 
 
 My life, new life, on all, bestowed! 
 
 How uncontrollably was swelling 
 
 My breast, to rend each narrow bound , 
 Toward Life to rush, and find a dwelling 
 
 In form, expression, deed, and sound! 
 The World — how beauteous, when reposing, 
 
 As in the Germ, that World was seen! — 
 How few the Blossoms, now disclosing! 
 
 That few — how blighted, and how mean!
 
 iri ron B( mi i.i.i:. 32S 
 
 Mi! - bow does youth, novice in sorrow, 
 
 Rush, 'mid illusive fairy-dreams, 
 On Life's wide stage! — Each coming morrow 
 
 Awakens, gilt with rosy beams! 
 !li> soul , "ii Joy's lighl pinion, flieth, 
 
 Ami basks in ether's star-gemmed height, 
 For Youth, no realm too distant lieth, 
 
 As darts his wing through Heaven's blue light! 
 
 How soon Joy's votaries have crowned him 
 
 With bliss, most arduous to obtain! 
 Th'aerial Sylphs of Life surround him, 
 
 And Life's gay, fascinating train. 
 Fortune, allures, with golden treasures, 
 
 Glory, with erown of starry blaze, 
 Love, with gently-beguiling pleasures 
 
 Truth, circled by celestial rays! - 
 
 With wounded heart, the Pilgrim seeth, 
 
 When, near the centre of Life's road, 
 Each traitorous Phantom swiftly fleeth 
 
 Towards a mysterious abode! 
 With science, though he be not weary, 
 
 Joy vanishes, with footstep light, 
 And Doubt's chill vapour, wild and dreary. 
 
 Involves Truth's star with clouds of night!
 
 326 J. C. F. vou SCHILLER. 
 
 The sacred crown that Fame was wreathing, 
 
 I saw, o'er vulgar brows, entwined; 
 Love's flowers, on which young Spring was breathing, 
 
 Withered 'neath Boreas' ruthless wind! 
 Blasts more tempestuous still, came sweeping 
 
 O'er that drear track the Pilgrim trod; 
 Hope faintly smiled, as, lone and weeping, 
 
 He sought his desolate abode! — 
 
 Amid Life's concourse — who will guide me? 
 
 From whom will consolation come? 
 AVho, faithfully, will move beside me, 
 
 Toward yon inexorable tomb? — 
 Thou, Friendship! — thou, my grief beguilest, 
 
 Thy hand heals many a rankling wound, 
 Life's woes are lightened when thou smilest; 
 
 Thee have I sought, and thee have found! 
 
 And thou who with sweet Friendship twining, 
 
 Dost calm the soul's tumultuous storms, 
 Employment! balm of life, combining 
 
 Atoms, to mould immortal Forms! — 
 Though grain, by grain, thy hand bestoweth , 
 
 Eternal Structures thou dost raise, 
 Effacing, while Life's river floweth, 
 
 Time's debt — the minutes, years, and days!
 
 LEWIS THE FIRST, 
 
 KING OF BAVARIA. 
 
 Liewis Charles Augustus, son of Maximilian, King 
 of Bavaria, and of Willirhnina Augusta of Hesse-Darm- 
 stadt, was born the 25th of August 1786. Lewis re- 
 ceived an excellent education, and, after Inning pur- 
 sued his studies at Gottingen, he made a tour through 
 the principal countries of Europe. 
 
 In the French-German wars , he fought at the head 
 of the Bavarian troops, till the year 1809, and, on 
 many occassion, gave signal proof of military talents 
 which, during the period, of the soi-disant holy war, 
 would certainly have been developed with <5clat, if his 
 declining health had not compelled him to abandon 
 the seat of war. Leisure gave a renewed impulse to 
 his desire to cultivate the Arts and Sciences, for the en- 
 couragement of the latter, he founded superb Museums* 
 during the life-time of the illustrious Maximilian Joseph. 
 
 Lewis ascended the Bavarian throne the 18th Octo- 
 ber 1825. lie was particularly careful in limiting all
 
 ;i2H LEWIS, KIXO OF BAVARIA. 
 
 unnecessary luxury in the ceremonies of Ids court, in 
 ■ onomising the expenditure of the war-departmenl , and 
 in the salaries of public functionaries. He employed 
 immense sums for all that accelerated the cultivation 
 of Arts and Sciences, for all that contributed to 
 the intellectual improvement of his subjects, and also 
 for the due celebration of the rites of the catholic church. 
 By these latter expenses, and by the re-establishment 
 of several convents, many of his contemporaries have 
 reproached this King, with having had too zealous an 
 enthusiasm for the ceremonies of religion. However, 
 by his attachment to the religious creed of his fathers, 
 he has never, in any manner, injured the rights of his 
 protestant subjects, and by his auspicious union, in 
 1810, with a virtuous and amiable Princess, of the 
 protestant faith, Maria Theresa, v. Hildburghausen (now 
 Altenburg,) he has given worthy heirs to the Bavarian 
 throne. The Queen of Bavaria was born in 1792. 
 
 Lewis the First transferred the University of Lands- 
 hut to Munich, which he rendered one of the most 
 beautiful and flourishing cities in Germany. By the 
 Convocation of the States, in the years 1826, and 
 1728, he contributed to the developement of the consti- 
 tutional form of Government in Bavaria, and he exhibit- 
 ed himself to the German nation, in the light of a 
 lyric, patriotic Poet. The actions of this Monarch which,
 
 LEWIS, KING OF B WAK1A 329 
 
 have been ungene si] criticised 
 
 will, by a posterity more just, be fully appreciated 
 as the dictates of the noble and liberal heart of a Ki 
 who is the enthusiastic guardian and patron of Art ~ 
 and Sciei ! of all those Bavarians, as well as 
 
 thf artists of other nations, who pre-eminently distin 
 guish themselves by their literary attainments. 
 
 In 1848 Lewis the First abdicated the throne, in 
 favour of his Son. Be now resides at Munich, as a 
 private Individual, and, unencumbered by the care- of 
 Government, he devotes his leisure to intellectual and 
 scientific occupations, and to the develop ement of those 
 arts which contribute to embellish a social state of exist- 
 ence. This King is beloved by every loyal Bavarian, 
 and honoured by all Germany. 
 
 After Greece had thrown off the Ottoman yoke, 
 and was declared an independent monarchy, (lie King 
 of Bavaria had the satisfaction to see his second son 
 raised to the regal throne of this new kingdom, undei 
 the title of Otho the First. 
 
 Works. 
 
 . rka bi II. M. Lewis tlic First, King ofBararia were published in 
 two Volumes in I Cotta. Stuttgart.
 
 330 LEWIS, KING OF BAVARIA. 
 
 TO MY DAUGHTER 
 MATILDA, 
 
 GRAND-DUCHESS OF HESSE-DARMSTADT. 
 
 That destiny, thy Father's Muse foretold, 
 
 When, slumbering in thy cradle, thou did&t lie, 
 Was not a dream of Fancy: — we behold 
 
 Combined, th'Ideal and Reality! 
 Thou'rt happy: — bliss thou lovest to bestow, 
 
 Youth, grace, and female virtue thee adorn; 
 From thee, a Husband's joys terrestrial flow, — 
 
 In thee, again, we view thy Mother born!
 
 LEWIS, KING OF BAVARIA. 331 
 
 THE NUN OF HIMMELSPFORTEN. 
 
 (HimnieUpforten , a Convent near Wtirzburg.) 
 
 Alas ! — the cell 
 
 Becomes a hell, 
 When warm the heart still glows: 
 
 Walls, chill and drear! 
 
 I perish here, 
 When love's young flowers disclose. 
 
 Waves swiftly glide 
 
 O'er yonder tide, 
 Towards ocean, far away, 
 
 And thus , with me, 
 
 How rapidly 
 Glides on life's joyless day! 
 
 Hence could I flee, 
 
 I'd rush to thee, 
 Wave that so mild dost roll! 
 
 I, Prisoner lone, 
 
 Must here disown 
 Each impulse of my soul!
 
 332 LEWIS, KING OF BAVARIA. 
 
 My strength doth fail, 
 My check turns pale, 
 
 Beneath a weight of woe; 
 I mourn and sigh, 
 Yet , from mine eye , 
 
 Warm tears have ceased to flow ! 
 
 To thee 1 come, 
 
 Thou friendly tomb! 
 Death claims a youthful prey. — 
 
 Now falls the Veil! — 
 
 Him shall I hail 
 In regions, far away!
 
 ii R is. KING OF BAVARIA. 
 
 THE MONK OF OBERZELL. 
 
 11, a Coni 'Hi near WTii 
 
 While rapidly 
 
 The waves roll lis 
 Unsatisfied I feel ; 
 
 As forth they rove, 
 
 Of her I love, 
 No tidings they reveal. 
 
 Receive these tears ! — 
 My hopes — my fears, 
 
 In death will find relief; 
 Though writhes my he 
 'Neath love's keen dart, 
 
 I low sacred is love's grief! 
 
 I am not far 
 
 From thee, my Star, 
 
 Yet, thou thy light dost veil; 
 Veiled ever o'er? 
 
 On earth, no more, 
 Bright Star! — I, thee shall hail
 
 334 LEWIS, KING OF BAVARIA. 
 
 Oh! pilot me, 
 
 Thou billowy sea ! 
 Across thy rushing spray. 
 
 Hence may I haste, 
 
 And find, at last, 
 A friendly, peaceful bay ! 
 
 Though waves flow on, 
 
 I stand alone, 
 In life — already dead. 
 
 On earth reigns night ! 
 
 Yet, morning-light, 
 O'er yon blue sky is spread. 
 
 Yon pealing bell 
 
 May tidings tell, 
 Of nuptials — pleasure — death. 
 
 To me, kind Heaven 
 
 Will life have given, 
 When I've resigned my breath! 

 
 LEWIS, KING OF BAVARIA. 335 
 
 JOHN OF PROSIDA. 
 
 (John ofProsida, an Italian gentleman, Lord of the Island ofProsida, 
 was born about the year i^j:< , and, by his profound skill as Physician, 
 he acquired the favour of the Emperor Frederick the Second, of Germany, 
 Conrad the Fourth and of de Mainfroi, who bestowed on him immense 
 riches, and elevated him to dignity and honour. 
 
 After the death of Conrad, John ofProsida fell indij riant, at having 
 been deprived of his possessions by Charles of Anjou, and lie formed 
 the resolution, to transfer the crown of Sicily t.. the bead of Peter the 
 Third, Kinj; of Aragon, and with infinite art and trouble, he fomented 
 an extensive Conspiracy, and was the instigator of that Massacre which is 
 known by the name of the ,, Sicilian Vespert." By tins tragical event, 
 Sicily was delivered from the yoke of the French. 
 
 John of Prosida afterwards became the faithful Counsellor of the 
 Princes oi Aragon, and Sicily, and he died at a very advanced af 
 
 Prosida, seest thou rise, from yon calm sea? — 
 The dewy mists of morning veil the coast, 
 
 A.S, 'gainst the shore, waves ripple tranquilly. 
 
 Though not of boundary wide that Esle can boast, 
 
 It is renowned through one, on whom baa Fame 
 
 Bestowed, in Freedom's cause, a deathless name! —
 
 336 LEWIS, KING OF BAVARIA. 
 
 The royal Dynasty was doomed to fall, 
 
 No more the House of Hohenstaufen reigned, 
 
 A Tyrant governed in the kingly hall, 
 
 And, with Sicilian gore, his sword was stained. 
 
 Flown was the noble Conrad's youthful blood, 
 
 Upon the scaffold gushed life's purple flood! — 
 
 The foreign Despots ride upon that shore, 
 
 With arbitrary, dread severity; 
 They gloat on pleasure, as he gloats on gore, 
 
 Upon whose head a murderer's croAvn doth lie. 
 Like Charles of Anjou, on his blood-stained throne, 
 Here, the voluptuous French, each law disown! 
 
 The rights of birth, youth, age, do they defy, 
 To gross licentiousness are they the sla 
 
 They glory in each vile atrocity, 
 
 And, from indignity, no virtue saves: 
 
 To satisfy unbridled lust, they live, 
 
 And, to base passions, daily victims give. — 
 
 How keenly John of Prosida cloth feel 
 
 The rankling wound the brave Sicilians bear! 
 
 He fans that spark which hatred doth reveal, 
 A smouldering spark, enkindled by despair.
 
 L.EWIB, KINO i >F BAVARIA. 337 
 
 The Patriot scorns t'expel their enemy, 
 
 By retribution just, all — all shall die! — 
 
 Long ere, from Aetna's crater, towering high , 
 Torrents of bright, destructive lava flow, 
 
 Deceptive calms th'irruption prophesy, 
 
 And thus a Nation veils a desperate blow. 
 
 Foreboding silence, and tranquillity 
 
 Conceal the thunderbolts that hidden lie. 
 
 By one decisive stroke their Foes to slay, 
 And to avenge the tyranny, long borne, 
 
 Will the Sicilians crime by crime repay: 
 
 The word: „ Extermination!" all have sworn. — 
 
 Hark! — the Sicilian Vesper-bells resound: — 
 
 The French, the prey of Death, lie piled around! 
 
 n
 
 338 LEWIS, KING OF BAVARIA. 
 
 THE WEEPING ROCK 
 
 AT FONTAINEBLEAU. 
 
 „Wilt thou repudiate my heart, 
 Aud break a plighted vow? 
 
 Spring's blooming roses soon depart, 
 And still alone art thou." — 
 
 ^Fidelity wilt thou despise? 
 
 For change thy soul doth long: 
 Oh maiden! swift as west-wind flies 
 
 The gay, adoring throng!" — 
 
 Love's constant vow delights, no more, 
 He quits his Love, for ever. 
 
 Of grief that blights his heart's deep core, 
 The youth complaineth never.
 
 LEWIS, KING OP BAVARIA 339 
 
 A lonesome rock is his retreat , 
 A rock Sophia's heart! — 
 
 He findeth no enjoyment sweet, 
 E'er rankles sorrow's dart. 
 
 Far from the world's tumultuous crowd, 
 
 In drear obscurity, 
 By countless trials is he bowed, 
 
 And ne'er, from grief, is free. 
 
 Increasing years no peace bestow, 
 Still gusli ihe trembling tears, 
 
 And, farther to augment his woe, 
 He thinks of former years. 
 
 How joyously then passed away 
 
 The gay, luxuriant hours, 
 When mutual love, in life's young Maj 
 
 His path bedecked with flowers] — 
 
 A kind, compassionating God 
 
 Who views his mental strife, 
 
 Relieves him from his wearying load, — 
 A tearful , hated life! -
 
 340 LEWIS, KING OF BAVARIA. 
 
 He's metamorphosed into stone; 
 
 Yet, rock and mountain prove 
 No barrier, for still flow on 
 
 Tears, — sacred unto love! — 
 
 A thousand years have circled by, 
 And still, on that lone spot, 
 
 Love's trembling tears still greet the eye, 
 The course arresteth not!
 
 LEWIS, KING OF BAVARIA. 341 
 
 THE MOUNTAIN OF UNTERSBERG. 
 
 (A LEGEND.) 
 
 Shouldst thou those strange, mysterious forms survey, 
 
 The caverns of the Untersberg reveal, 
 Thy soul, to terror, would become a prey, 
 
 And nameless palpitation wouldst thou feel. 
 
 Shouldst thou the towering Untersberg ascend, 
 And contemplate the sombre depths below, 
 
 What shrill, discordant tones thine ear would rend, 
 Tones that, from gulphs unfathomable, flow! 
 
 In chasms of that lofty, marble wall, 
 Illumed with variegated tints of light, 
 
 What countless wanderers have been doomed to fall , 
 'Mid cheerless realms of everlasting night!
 
 342 LEWIS, KING OF BAVARIA. 
 
 Innumerable, legends have been told 
 
 Of that external, and internal sphere, — 
 
 Legends, transmitted from the days of old, 
 That cause resistless tremour, as we hear. 
 
 The riches piled within that Mount's recess, 
 
 Have often charmed the traveller's wondering eye, 
 
 Yet, the alluring treasure, to possess, — 
 Hope doth the possibility deny. — 
 
 A crowd of Dwarfs, 'neath midnight's moon-lit sky, 
 To yonder church, at Unterstein, repair: 
 
 Woe! — woe to all who haste not quickly by, 
 For he who lingers is a prisoner there! 
 
 That mystic Troop must he accompany, 
 
 For nought terrestrial dares their power withstand: 
 Each is inevitably doomed to die, 
 
 When lured among the Dwarfs' unpitying band! — 
 
 The Emperor Charles the Great doth captive stay 
 Within th'enchanted Mountain's fearful breast, 
 
 With his brave hosts! — Centuries have passed away, 
 Yet, torpid and benumbed, Charles still doth rest.
 
 LEWIS, KIM; OF BAVAKJA. 343 
 
 There, .spell-bound will the Monarch lie till, round 
 The circling table, thrice his beard doth grow; — 
 
 Then will the hour of his deliverance sound; — 
 That hour will freedom, on his hosts, bestow! 
 
 The marble battlement they'll pass again, 
 
 On Walserfeld Charles' pennon will be furled ; 
 
 Then o'er Earth's farthest mountain, sea, and plain, 
 Will toll the knell of an expiring World!
 
 344 LEWIS, KING OF BAVARIA. 
 
 SAPPHO. 
 
 On fair Leucadia's tranquil plain, 
 Illumed by moon-lit skies , 
 
 And far extending o'er the main, 
 Steep, threatening rocks arise. 
 
 Far, far projecting o'er the sea, 
 Love's Monument they stand; 
 
 Sappho gave immortality 
 
 Unto Leucadia's strand. — 
 
 The Songstress, far renowned, was born 
 
 In Lesbos' valley fair; 
 How soon Fame's laurel-crowns adorn 
 
 The Maiden's flowing hair! 
 
 The Grecians hear, enraptured, long, 
 Her lyre's melodious tone, 
 
 Yet, Sappho's clear, harmonious song, 
 To love is tuned, alone.
 
 LEWIS, KING OF BAVARIA. Mb 
 
 Th'applause that ever circles round, 
 
 When Sappho's accents flow, 
 And when her golden strings resound, 
 
 Doth no delight bestow. 
 
 Though, by terrestrial luxuries, bowed, 
 No bliss can wealth impart; 
 
 In love, she shuns the worldly crowd, 
 Love triumphs o'er her heart. — 
 
 Tranquillity the Songstress finds, 
 Love's ray her spirit cheers: 
 
 Sappho each crown of Fame resigns 
 For love's luxuriant tears. 
 
 How rapidly the years glide by, 
 Beguiled with mutual love! — 
 
 Yet, earth's most pure felicity 
 Doth fluctuating prove. 
 
 An evanescent flower is love, 
 It blossoms — and it die.> ! 
 
 As clouds that 'mid blue ether move, 
 Thus swift the passion flics.
 
 346 LEWIS, KING OP BAVARIA. 
 
 Phaon, a traitor to his vow, 
 From Sappho turns aside, 
 
 And, for the volatile he now 
 
 Resigns his tuneful bride. — 
 
 Not thus can Sappho chase away 
 His image from her heart; 
 
 Of keen despair she falls the prey, 
 And grief corrodes her heart. — 
 
 She stands upon the rocky height: — 
 What nameless thoughts arise! — 
 
 'Mid wild winds floats her vesture light; 
 'Mid waves fair Sappho dies!
 
 LEWIS, KING OF BAVARIA. 347 
 
 LIFE. 
 
 A joyous world before me lay, 
 
 And Life, with fascination, smiled; 
 
 Stranger to care, — Hope's heavenly ray, 
 My path, with fairy-dreams, beguiled. 
 
 What rosy light around me shone! 
 
 All seemed integrity, and truth; 
 Yet ah ! — in Poesy alone , 
 
 For Life and love were fresh, to youth. 
 
 Arrayed in magic veil, were spread 
 The glories of the Golden Age; 
 
 I saw, arising from the dead, 
 
 Th'illustrious Chiefs of history's page! 
 
 Susceptibility then found 
 
 Charms in all, Nature — Art has given, 
 My breast responded to the sound ; 
 
 United seemed the Earth, and Heaven! —
 
 348 LEWIS, KING OP BAVARIA. 
 
 Ln each impression of delight, 
 
 What rapturous bliss my spirit feels! 
 
 Existence seemeth but a flight 
 
 'Mid joys that Paradise reveals! 
 
 I'm chaffed by many a glowing sun 
 
 That sets, alas! — to rise, no more. 
 
 No man Life's circle, twice, can run: 
 
 Oh Time! — despotic is thy power! 
 
 Life's tortuous, wild, and lengthening strand 
 
 Becomes more drear — more hard my lot; 
 
 Yet, on Felicity's bright land, 
 Humanity arriveth not. 
 
 How sombre all that once was bright! 
 
 Joy! — thy caress we feel, no more: 
 Life's clouds more dark, till we alight 
 
 At Death's inevitable door! — 
 
 In chaste Presentiment's calm dream, 
 
 'Mid twilight, glows Hope's cheering ray: 
 
 We see, beyond the tomb, Joy's beam, — 
 The morning-star of endless day!
 
 .1. W. vtm GOETHB. 349 
 
 MIGXON. 
 
 (When Goetlie was remaining at au hotel, on the frontier of Italy, 
 he nv;is forcibly attracted by an air, sung to the music of a either, which 
 he heard in the street. The Songstn 98 was an interesting Italian child; 
 her lay depicted in gloving colours, the beauties of Italy, and 
 pressed, in the most enthusiastic manner, her desire to return thither. 
 Goethe entered into conversation with the youthful Artiste, and translated 
 her song which forms the subject of the following ballad.) 
 
 Know'st thou the land where fragrant citrons bloom, 
 The golden orange glows 'neath leafy gloom, 
 The odorous zephyr glides 'mid Heaven's blue skies, 
 Sweet myrtles thrive, and laurels proudly rise? 
 Know'st thou the land ? 
 
 Beloved! — come, 
 With thee, to yon bright land, I pant to roam! 
 
 Know'st thou the house? Its roof on pillars lies, 
 How brilliant is each hall with Art's rich dyes ! 
 Fair marble statues, as they gaze on me, 
 Appear to say: »Poor child! what aileth thee?" 
 Know'st thou the house? 
 
 My guardian! — come, 
 Haste! thitherward, with thee, 1 pant to roam!
 
 350 J- W. von GOETHE. 
 
 Know'st thou the mount, and cloud-encircled bridge? 
 The mule, with caution, seeks the misty ridge; 
 In caves still live the dragon's ancient brood; 
 Through crumbling rocks doth gush th'impetuous flood. 
 Know'st thou the mount? 
 
 My father! — come, 
 Behold our path! Haste, thither let us roam!
 
 J. W. von GOETHE. :Jol 
 
 THE ERL-KINli. 
 
 Who doth gallop so swiftly, 'mid night-winds wild? 
 Yonder, a father rides with his child: 
 How he fondles the boy on his guardian arm! 
 He is clasped to his breast, to keep him warm. 
 
 Why, my son, hide tby face ? Say, what dost thou fear? — 
 See'st thou not, my father, the Erl-king near? 
 Lo ! — the Erl-king with crown , and long mantle on ! — 
 Tis a meteor, gliding through air, my son. — 
 
 „Oh, thou peerless child! haste, oh, hasten to me! 
 „1'11 merrily, merrily, play with thee; 
 „On the strand of my country bloom flowerets fair; 
 „Gay vests hath my mother, and jewels rare!" — 
 
 Oh, my father, my father! — nearest not thou 
 What the Erl-king, whispering, promises now? — 
 Peace, oh, peace, my loved child, and tranquilly lie; 
 Amid withering leaves the keen breezes fly. —
 
 352 J. W. von GOETHE. 
 
 „Wilt thou come, oh, fairest of children, to me? 
 „My beauteous daughters thy guardians will be; 
 „By my daughters, the revel nocturnal is led, 
 „They will foster thee, sing, and dance round thy bed!" — 
 
 Oh ! my father — my father ! — in yon drear spot , 
 The Eii-king's daughter beholdest thou not? — 
 Oh, my son, my son! — there I nought can survey, 
 Save, tli'umbrageous shade of yon willows grey. - 
 
 „How I love thee, oh, charming, angelic boy! 
 „If thou willingly com'st not — force I'll employ!" — 
 Oh, my father, my father! he grasps me now; 
 The hand of the Erl-king inflicts a blow! — 
 
 With what speed does the shuddering parent dart, 
 As his trembling child is pressed to his heart! 
 He arrives at his mansion, with panting breath, 
 With the child on his arm, in the sleep of death!
 
 J. W. von GOETHE. 353 
 
 THE MINSTREL. 
 
 „Hark! — from the bridge, and palace-wall, 
 What tones melodious vibrate near? — 
 
 Haste! — let that song, within our ball, 
 Reverberate, and enchant the ear!" — 
 
 A page obedient swiftly flies, 
 
 The page returns — the Monarch a 
 w Bid the Minstrel enter!" — 
 
 ..May God protect each gallant knight! 
 
 May God preserve yon, ladies fair! 
 What a refulgent Heaven of light! 
 
 Who names the. stars that sparkle here? 
 iJe closed mine eye! — presume not thon 
 To rove where regal splendours glow, 
 
 Ill-timed thy contemplation!" — 
 
 The Minstrel's eye is closed, while sound 
 Heart-thrilling notes of harmony; 
 
 Brave knights express their joy profound, 
 Fair ladies hear, with downcasl eye.
 
 854 J. W. von GOETHE. 
 
 The King, enraptured with the strain, 
 Sends to the Bard a golden chain, 
 To prove his approbation. — 
 
 „Sire! — not on me this chain bestow, 
 But rather, on that valiant knight 
 
 By whom the lances of thy foe 
 Shiver to atoms, in the fight; 
 
 Or, let this golden prize adorn 
 
 Thy chancellor ; long be it worn , 
 With other burdens weighty!" 
 
 „As birds that warble on a tree, 
 
 I chant my independent lay; 
 An inspiration joyous — free, 
 
 Doth generously, itself repay; 
 Yet — dare I make thee one request? — 
 Bestow a draught of wine, — ■ thy best, 
 
 In golden, sparkling goblet." — 
 
 lie quaffs the beverage eagerly: — 
 
 „Oh, luscious nectar of the earth! 
 
 How blest that mansion where I see 
 
 Such given — yet, deemed of trifling Worth! 
 
 When Fortune smiles, remember me, 
 
 And thank th' Almighty gratefully, 
 As I, for this, feel thankful."
 
 FERDINAND FREILIGRATH 
 
 Was born the 17th July 1810 at Detmold whore 
 his father was Professor at the public school of that 
 city, and, at the Gymnasium there, Freiligrath pursued 
 his studies under C. F. Falkmann, till the year 1825. 
 In expectation of becoming the heir of a rich uncle, 
 he exchanged scientific studies for the laborious duties 
 of a counter, in a mercantile house at Soest, and occu- 
 pied himself, at the same time, with the stud) of mo- 
 dern Languages. In L83J when Freiligrath had finish 
 ed his apprenticeship, be found a position as clerk 
 in a bank ;ii Amsterdam, which i nl hi retained 
 
 until the year L836. This maritime city was very 
 favourable to the developemenl of his poetical talents. 
 In the lattei period of his re idence in Am terdam, he 
 
 became acquainted, through corre | Lence, witb Cha 
 
 ■ and Schwab who introduced him 1" the German 
 public, in the „Almanack of !<>■ Mu. 
 
 At Freiligrath's return to Germany, he was engaged
 
 356 F. FREILIGRATH. 
 
 in a commercial establishment at Barmen, here he re- 
 mained from 1837 till 1838. In the latter year his 
 collection of Poems was published by Cotta. The uni- 
 versal approbation with which this Work was received 
 by the public , occasioned Freiligrath to decide on aban- 
 doning commercial pursuits, in order to consecrate his 
 time to the cultivation of literature. He afterwards 
 lived, as a private individual, at Unkel on the border 
 of the Rhine, and here he formed the acquaintance 
 of his future wife, Ida Melos of Thuringen, this lady 
 was employed as governess to the children of an En- 
 glish gentleman, residing at Unkel. Freiligrath passed 
 the winter of 1841 in the family of his intended bride 
 whom he espoused, in 1842, at Darmstadt. 
 
 By the intercession of Humboldt, the King of Prus- 
 sia granted Freiligrath a pension of 300 thalers an- 
 nually, and our Poet went to reside at St. Goar. Two 
 years later, his ^Confession of Faith 1 ' appeared before 
 the public. On former occasions he had maintained 
 that, a Poet ought to consider himself placed in a 
 position, to elevated, to belong to any party. By the 
 above work, he frankly confessed that, he embraced 
 the tenets of the Opposition, by word and action. A 
 short time before the publication of the ^Profession of 
 Faith," he had refused the place of librarian, which, 
 in the most honourable manner, had been offered him
 
 F. FREILIGRATH. 357 
 
 by the hereditary Duke pf Saxe-Weimar. At the same 
 time, when Freiligrath published tliat Collection of 
 Poems, of which the „Confession of Faith- 1 is but an 
 introduction, he wrote to the Minister of the King of 
 Prussia, to inform him that, from the year 1S41, lie 
 considered it his duty to relinquish that pension which 
 His Majesty of Prussia had granted him. Freiligrath 
 then quitted Germany, and occasionally resided at Os- 
 tein!, Paris, Brussels and Zurich. In the month of 
 August, 1846 he accepted the place of correspondent, 
 in a mercantile establishment in London. In the Spring 
 of 1848, he resolved on accepting the invitation of a 
 rich American Poet, Longfellow, to sojourn during some 
 time, on the joyous shores of the Ohio; but when the 
 new Revolution in Germany burst forth, he changed 
 his resolution. Favoured by the amnesty of the 19th 
 March, 1848, and sheltered at the same time from per- 
 secution, in the Autumn of this year, he came to in- 
 habit the borders of the Rhine, and established himself 
 at Diisseldorf. Here he placed himself at the head of 
 of a Club of workmen, and was arrested for having 
 published a poem entitled: „From the Dead to the 
 Loving. 11 He was accused before the Jury, of having 
 excited the people to hatred and insurrection against 
 the King. On the 3rd October 1848, this Jury 
 acquitted Freiligrath of the accusation. lie then repair-
 
 358 P. FREILIGRATH. 
 
 cd to Cologne, and took part in the editorship of the 
 „New Gazette of the Rhine". After this Gazette had 
 been suppressed by the Government, Freiligrath passed 
 the greater part of the year 1850, at Bilk, a village 
 near Dusseldorf, where he obtained the rights of citi- 
 zenship. After having published the second edition 
 of his ^Political and social Poems, 1 ' he again thought 
 it prudent to quit the country, having been apprized 
 that, the Government would again shortly bring a new 
 action against him. 
 
 Soon afterwards, an official order was published in 
 the Rhenish Prussian journals, that the Police were 
 authorized to arrest Freiligrath, in whatsoever city he might 
 appear. He was accused of having laid a plot for the 
 overthrow of the Government, of having excited the 
 people to revolt, and of being a disturber of the public 
 peace; thereby rendering himself guilty of high-treason. 
 Fortunately for Freiligi^ath , when these accusations were 
 launched forth against him, he had arrived on the free 
 soil of England, and he is now reported to be again 
 occupied in a commercial house in London. 
 
 F. Freiligrath is, par excellence, a descriptive 
 Poet. His world is not like that of F. Matthison who 
 represents to us, the dances of elves and fairies by moon- 
 light, and other piquant fantasies. Freiligrath's imagi- 
 nation takes a loftier flight; he conducts us on the
 
 F. FEEILIGEATH 359 
 
 mysteriously vast ocean, and amid the umbrageous re- 
 cesses of the desert; in the former, he vividly exhibits 
 to our view, the Dead that the profound depths have 
 engulphed, 'midst whirlwinds and tempests, and in the 
 latter, he represents carnivorous animals, in deadly and 
 ensanguined combat with their more peaceful victims. 
 In pictures of this description, calculated principally 
 for the eye, Freiligrath is perfectly successful. It is 
 however different when the Poet desires to elevate him- 
 self in the infinite sphere of ideas, and in the depths 
 of the human heart. Then the magic power of Leading 
 the spirit captive, and of raising us above ourselves, 
 evidently fails him. In these Specimens we pass over 
 those compositions in which his .Muse has been less pro- 
 pitious, and we extracl such effusions as are truly dis- 
 tinguished by their originality, and display the sea] 
 of genius.
 
 360 F. FREUJGRATH. 
 
 Freiligrath's chief Works are: 
 
 POEMS. Stuttgart and Tubingen 1838. 11th Edition. 1818 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF CHARLES IMMERMANN. Stuttgart, 1812. 
 
 VENUS AND ADONIS. Translated from Shakespeare. Dtisseldorf, 1813. 
 
 CONFESSION OF FAITH. Maycnce, 1844. 
 
 MODERN ENGLISH POETRY. Containing Translations from Felicia 
 llrmaus, F. Landon, Robert Southey, Alfred Tennyson, Henry W. 
 Longfellow, and other Poets- Stuttgart and Tubingen , 1817. 
 
 BEHIND THE SHEAVES. Stuttgart, 1847. 
 
 CA IRA. Six Poems. Herisau, 1847. 
 
 POLITICAL AND SOCIAL POEMS. 1818. 
 
 THE ODES OF VICTOR HUGO. Translated from the French. Frank- 
 fort, 1836. 
 
 SONGS Of CREPUSCULUM. Stuttgart, 1836. Sixth Edition. 1843. 
 
 COMPLETE WORKS OF MOLIERE. In Connection with E. Duller, Leip- 
 sic, 1S37.
 
 f. PEBILIQBATH. 361 
 
 THE 
 
 III NTING-GROUND OF THE LION. 
 
 The Forest-king, through lii.s domains 
 
 Delights to hunt, at liberty, 
 He loves to rove around the lake, 
 
 And 'neath umbrageous rushes lie; 
 Where the Gazelle and the Giraffe 
 
 Drink, timorously beside the shore, 
 While tremble o'er the Monarch's head 
 
 The branches of the sycamore. 
 
 At eve, when brilliant tires illume 
 
 The cottage of the Hottentot, 
 When, on the Table-mountain high, 
 
 Eve's varying light appearcth not, 
 "When through umbrageous forest-shades, 
 
 The wandering Kaffir lone doth tread, 
 Wliile sleeps the Gnu by rushing floods, 
 
 And Antelope, on leafy bed:
 
 362 Pi I'KEIMf.RATH. 
 
 Lo! — the majestic, mild Giraffe, 
 
 'Mid labyrinths, doth a circuit make. 
 And cools her feverish , burning tongue. 
 
 With draughts refreshing from the lake. 
 Oppressed by keen, devouring thirst, 
 
 Through barren regions doth she glide; 
 She kneels, aud far her graceful neck 
 
 Extendeth o'er th'impetuous tide. — 
 
 From sombre reeds the Lion springs 
 
 On the Giraffe, with deafening roar! 
 A charger of such peerless mould, 
 
 What rider e'er possessed before! 
 A courser of such matchless grace, 
 
 Did mighty Emperor ever own? 
 What Knight can boast of such a steed, 
 
 As that the Lion rides upon? 
 
 Swift, on the fibres of her neck 
 
 His teeth he fixes greedily, 
 The kingly Rider's yellow mane, 
 
 O'er the Giraffe doth waving fly. — 
 As lightning, from the lake she starts, 
 
 Deep groans she utters, 'midst her flight, 
 The leopard's skin — the camel's speed, 
 
 In that forlorn Giraffe unite.
 
 F. FKBIMGRATH. 563 
 
 Across the desert, moon-lit plain. 
 
 Doth the Giraffe, in terror dart; 
 Her eye that torturing woe reveals, 
 
 Forth, from the socket, seems to start! 
 Around her graceful, spotted neck 
 
 Dark, purple streams of life-blood flow, 
 The throbbings of her trembling heart, 
 
 'Mid forest-wilds, re-echo now. — 
 
 As, 'mid the wilderness, a cloud 
 
 The Israelitish wanderers led, 
 Now, like a Spirit of the Wilds, 
 
 L t — from that boundless desert's bed, 
 A Tillar dense, by whirlwinds raised, 
 
 Mounts heavenward, from the sandy sea; 
 That yellow Column drifts where'er 
 
 The fugitive Giraffe may flee. — 
 
 The Vulture hovers in the trace, 
 
 Her piercing tones, through ether rise, 
 The dread profaner of the tomb, 
 
 The fierce Hyena, thither flics: 
 There prowls the Panther to whose rage 
 
 The Cape-town flocks become a prey; 
 A track ensanguined indicates 
 
 The Forest-monarch's gory way! —
 
 364 F- FREILIGRATH. 
 
 Lo! — on a palpitating throne, 
 
 The ruthless Forest-king is there, 
 With ravenous claws, defiled with blood, 
 
 The regal cushion doth he tear. 
 That Rider the Giraffe must bear 
 
 Till vital energy doth fail; 
 'Gainst Monarch, of tyrannic power, 
 
 Resistance — struggles — ne'er avail. 
 
 The Giraffe staggers: — lo! she falls, 
 
 Moans, and expireth, bathed in blood. 
 Defiled by dust and foam, the Steed 
 
 Becomes the Forest-sovereign's food! - 
 In Madagascar, in the East, 
 
 'Mid deserts wild, 'neath Luna's ray, 
 Thus, through the boundary of his realm, 
 
 The royal Lion hunts his prey.
 
 F. FREILIGRATH. 365 
 
 THE DEAD IN THE SEA. 
 
 Deep — deep, 'neath ocean's briny wave, 
 
 On shelly bank, and sand, 
 Is slumbering many a sailor brave, 
 
 Who bade, farewell, to land. 
 
 The sea engulpha its fragile prey: — 
 
 Death's knell — wild tempests sound, 
 
 And he who, late, was fresh and gay, 
 An early tomb has found! 
 
 On sand — weed — shell-bank — tranquilly, 
 
 How many others sleep, 
 Who were not, early, doomed to die, 
 
 Through storms upon the dee])! 
 
 In cabin, frigid and confined, 
 
 The Wanderer yields his breath: 
 
 They cast him overboard, entwined 
 Within the shroud of Death.
 
 366 P- FREILIGRATH 
 
 How deep a tomb the sea's vast ground, 
 Beneath the watery sphere! 
 
 Wild waves eternally roll round 
 
 That church-yard, lone and drear! — 
 
 If ocean's billows glide away, 
 And her hid depths unfold, 
 
 The Sleepers there, in dread array, 
 Aghast, might we behold; 
 
 The polypus a web-work, red, 
 
 Around the Skeletons have spread! 
 
 On mossy pillow, 'neath the spray, 
 
 They calmly rest, awhile; 
 As ocean's inmates round them play, 
 
 How ghastly do they smile! 
 
 How skilfully the saw-fish there 
 
 1 1 us polished every bone! 
 Fair mermaids, with assiduous care, 
 
 Gay ornaments place on. 
 
 Lo! some anoint the flowing hair, 
 And braid each tangled tress; 
 
 The gaunt cheek-bones, to paint with care, 
 The purple fish they press.
 
 F. FREILIGUATH. .'{(',7 
 
 One sings a melancholy strain, 
 
 Shell-bracelets some arrange; 
 The Skeletons, beneath the main, 
 
 Arc decked with jewels strange! 
 
 Brighl yellow amber dotb each hand , 
 
 And fleshless joint surround; 
 That skull, reposing on the sand, 
 
 With coral-wreath is crowned. 
 
 Within the sockets of the eye, 
 Are pearls of beauty rare, 
 
 In the white I es sea-insects lie, 
 
 And gnaw the marrow there. 
 
 Yon mast, once, braved the tide profound, — 
 
 Defied the whirlwind's shock; 
 On that tall mast the head are bound, 
 lis wedged amid the rock 
 
 By lish, and worms, the silenf Dead 
 
 Are rooted in the sand; 
 Alt! dream the Shnnberers they have sped 
 
 To their loved fatherland V —
 
 368 F - FREILIGRATH. 
 
 Beneath the green, mysterious wave, 
 Where pearls their lustre hide, 
 
 Reposeth many a sailor brave, 
 "Who sank amid the tide! 
 
 He sleepeth, far from house and home, 
 No flower bedecks his grave, 
 
 And thither Friendship ne'er doth roam, 
 With tears his tomb to lave. 
 
 Where sleep his relics peacefully, 
 No perfumed rosemary grows, 
 
 No cypress waves — no zephyrs fly, — 
 There blooms no fragrant rose. — 
 
 If, never glistens, on that spot, 
 The tear of Sympathy, — 
 
 Why murmur? — It afflicteth not 
 The Dead beneath the sea!
 
 P. FREILIGRATH. 369 
 
 THE REVENGE OF THE FLOWERS. 
 
 Lulled in refreshing, sweet repose, 
 
 The Maiden slumbers tranquilly; 
 On that fair cheek, where blooms the rose, 
 
 Her jetty, silken lashes lie. 
 
 A stool of reeds stands at her Bide , 
 
 There lies a vase of fragrant flowers, 
 
 Bright, freshly-plucked, the garden's pride, 
 More lovely ne'er adorned the bowers. 
 
 Around that little chamber fair, 
 
 Oppressive exhalations rise, 
 For summer shuns refreshing air, 
 
 And hrrnly closed the window lies. 
 
 No voice disturbs the midnight hours. — 
 
 List! — what soft-murmuring tones are nigh? 
 
 List! from the branches, foliage, flowers, 
 Burst mingled notes of revelry. 
 
 24
 
 370 F. FREIT.ICtRATH. 
 
 Lo! from each perfumed chalice now, 
 
 Aerial, odorous Spirits fly, 
 Equipped with shields, crowns deck their brow, 
 
 And clad in vaporous drapery. 
 
 Forth from the purple, blushing rose, 
 Ascends a graceful Being fair, 
 
 Whose clustering hair dishevelled flows, 
 
 And pearls, as dew-drops, glisten there. 
 
 From th'helmet-flower, of brilliant dye, 
 And foliage of umbrageous green; 
 
 With sword in hand, avengingly, 
 
 Doth rush a Knight, of hardy mien. 
 
 Upon his helmet waves, 'mid air, 
 
 The heron's feather, silvery -grey. 
 
 Swift from the modest lily fair, 
 
 A Maiden glides, in light array. 
 
 Upon the tiger-lily bright, 
 
 Lo! — an imperious Moor is seen; 
 A crescent of celestial light, 
 
 Is glittering on his turban green.
 
 F. FRKIMORATU. 'M I 
 
 On the imperial lily's breast 
 
 A Sceptre-bearer proud appears, 
 And from the iris' azure vest, 
 
 Dart Sportsmen, armed with hunting-spears. 
 
 From the narcissus gay ascends 
 
 A STouth, with melancholy eye; 
 O'er the fair Maiden's couch he bends, 
 
 To kiss her lip, of coral dye. — 
 
 Around the bed they form a ring: 
 
 The Spirits dance, in circles wild, - • 
 
 In dizzy mazes dance, and sing 
 
 To the unconscious, slumbering Child: — 
 
 „Maiden! — by thee, from earth's cool shade, 
 Have we been torn , remorselessly. 
 
 We languish, wither, pine, ami tail.'. 
 
 And, in this vase, must, captives, die!" 
 
 „How joyously were passed life's days 
 
 On earth's maternal, guardian breast! 
 
 Through verdant foliage, sunny rays 
 Our variegated forms caressed."
 
 372 F. FREILIGRATH. 
 
 „When, 'neath cool zephyrs of the glade, 
 Our slender, pliant stems were bent, 
 
 As fairies gay, by night we played 
 Around our leafy tenement." 
 
 „We then sipped rain, and dew-drops sweet; 
 
 In stagnant fluid now we lie; 
 Yet, vengeance, in this lone retreat, 
 
 Thee strikes, oh Maiden! ere we die!" ■ 
 
 The Spirits bend upon the bed 
 
 On which reclines that beauteous one. — 
 Now followeth a silence dread; — 
 
 Now echoes many a mystic tone. 
 
 What whispering in that elfin wreath! 
 
 How glows her cheek with feverish dyes! 
 The Spirits, on the Maiden, breathe; — 
 
 What suffocating odours rise! — 
 
 When beams the sun's first ray of gold, 
 The fairy Spirits flit away. — 
 
 Lo! on a downy couch, behold 
 
 The loveliest Form of mortal clay!
 
 F. FREIL1GRATH. 373 
 
 How like a blighted, vernal flower! 
 
 Her cheek retains a roseate glow. 
 Perfumes the vital spark, o'erpower; 
 
 She sleeps beside her Sisters, now!
 
 374 •'• 0. i'. von SCHILLER. 
 
 FLOWERS. 
 
 Ye foster-children of the sun, 
 
 Flowers of the meadow gay, 
 Favourites of Nature, ever young, 
 
 Her gems of purest ray! 
 How rich your silver-spangled vest! 
 Your graceful forms hath Flora dressed 
 
 In Heaven's own colours bright; 
 Yet — weep, Spring's children! — Though you live, 
 To you, no Soul does Flora give, 
 
 And ah! — ye bloom 'mid night. 
 
 To you, the lark and nightingale 
 
 Sing love-songs, while they fly, 
 And amorous sylphs, from wood, and vale, 
 
 Caress you, hovering nigh. 
 Has not the Queen Idalian spread 
 Your perfumed chalice, as a bed, 
 
 For the delights of love? — 
 Children of Spring! — your tears should flow, 
 Alas! — to Loves celestial glow, 
 
 Insensible ye prove! —
 
 J. C. F. vou SCHILLER. 375 
 
 Yet, when a mother's stern decree, 
 
 From Nina, bids me part, 
 The Flowers I send reveal to thee 
 
 The secret of my heart. — 
 In you, mute Messengers, combined 
 Life, language, soul, and heart, I find, 
 
 Each feeling you disclose, 
 And, in your leaves, of brilliant dye, 
 The mightiest Divinity 
 
 Doth silently repose!
 
 376 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 THE KNIGHT OF TOGGENBURG. 
 
 A BALLAD. 
 
 (Henry, Count of Toggenburg, suspected that the Countess Ida, his 
 wife, entertained a secret affection for one of his vassals, and actuated 
 by jealousy, he commanded her to be thrown from the summit of a lofty 
 rock. Those who were commissioned to perform this cruel order, moved 
 by compassion, spared her life, and the Countess resided some time, in 
 a neighbouring forest, as a female hermit. 
 
 The Count having afterwards been fully convinced that , his suspicions 
 had been groundless, was stung with the most poignant remorse, he was 
 then informed that, his innocent Wife still lived, and he ardently sought 
 reconciliation and forgiveness. The latter was granted , but the Countess 
 had formed the resolution to take the veil. In the convent to which she 
 retired, she was remarkable for her piety, and exemplary virtues, and 
 after her death , she was acknowledged as a saint. 
 
 Schiller commences this ballad with the Countess Ida's reply to her 
 repentant Lord.) 
 
 „Sir Knight! for thee a sisters love, 
 
 Within this breast shall glow, 
 Demand no other, lest it prove 
 
 A source of future woe; 
 I see thee enter tranquilly, 
 
 And tranquilly depart, 
 In secret wherefore weep? — Oh! why 
 
 Thus palpitates thy heart?" —
 
 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 377 
 
 This sentence, earthly peace has chassed; 
 
 How doth his heart now bleed! 
 In silence is his Wife embraced, 
 
 He mounts his noble steed, 
 From Switzerland, without delay, 
 
 He starts with a Swiss band; 
 With Cross on breast, he bends his way 
 
 Unto the Holy Land. 
 
 Where'er the deadliest 6trife appears, 
 
 Rushes the Champion brave, 
 And 'midst the Turkish, glittering spears, 
 
 His banner proud doth wave. 
 Lo! Toggenburg inspires dismay 
 
 Among the Prophet's race, 
 Yet, from his heart, Fame's brilliant ray 
 
 Has failed, deep grief to chase. 
 
 One lingering year his tortured mind 
 
 Endures affliction's scar, 
 No consolation can he tind, 
 
 And bids farewell to war; 
 He views a ship, on Joppa's strand, 
 
 Awaiting favouring gales, 
 His Ida's cherished fatherland, 
 
 Count Toggenburg soon hails. —
 
 378 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 The Pilgrim knocks, 'mid hopes, and fears, 
 
 At Ida's castle-gate; 
 As thunderbolts are tones he hears, 
 
 Those words have sealed his fate: — 
 „The Lady whom thou seekest, now 
 
 Becomes the Bride of Heaven; 
 She proffered, yesterday, her vow, 
 
 Each earthly tie is riven!" — 
 
 Despairingly, the Knight quits ever 
 
 His Fathers' Swiss domain; 
 His Arab steed he seeth never, 
 
 Nor glistening arms, again! 
 From Toggenburg, in search of rest, 
 
 The Wanderer roves, unknown; 
 O'er that proud Form a sack-cloth vest 
 
 He, mournfully, has thrown. — 
 
 'Mid linden-boughs' umbrageous shade, 
 
 A Convent-roof appears, 
 And near, within a sombre glade, 
 
 A hut the Mourner rears. 
 From morning's bright, awakening smiles, 
 
 Till evening's moon-lit ray, 
 Alone he sits; — Hope's star beguiles 
 
 The lingering hours away.
 
 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 379 
 
 On that grey Convent how unmoved 
 
 Is riveted his gaze, 
 Until his Ida — his beloved, 
 
 The Hermit lone surveys! — 
 The Nun appears with tranquil mien, 
 
 Still graceful, young, and fair; 
 While musing on the valley green, 
 
 She seems an angel there! 
 
 Cheered by that sacred Vision bright, 
 
 How joyously he sleeps! 
 He rises, welcomes morning light, 
 
 And silent vigil keeps. 
 Days — years roll on: he murmurs not, 
 
 He grieves not. From afar, 
 He contemplates, from that drear cot, 
 
 The Convent lattice-bar. 
 
 The Nun appears with tranquil mien, 
 
 Still graceful, young and fair, 
 While musing on the valley green, 
 
 She seems an angel there! — 
 One morn, still gazing stedfastly, 
 
 Toggenburg yields his breath; 
 Yet, on that window rests his eye, 
 
 When slumbering in death!
 
 FREDERICK RUCKERT. 
 
 X 1 rederick Ruckert the son of a Bavarian officer 
 in the exchequer, was born the 16th May 1789 at 
 Schweinfurt in Franconia. After having terminated his 
 studies at the Gymnasium of his native city, he repaired 
 to Jena, in order to study jurisprudence; however his 
 time was chiefly occupied with languages and literature, 
 and he became under Professor of that University 
 in 1811. 
 
 As early as the year 1814, when he commenced 
 his poetical career, under the name of Freimund Raimar, 
 he quitted the University of Jena, and after having 
 several times changed his place of residence, he under- 
 took at Stuttgart, the editorship of the „Morgenblatt," 
 „Morning Journal," which employment occupied his 
 time from 1816 till 1817. In the autumn of the latter 
 year he went to Rome. 
 
 When he returned to his native country, he resided, 
 during some time , at Ebern at the house of his parents ;
 
 F. Rt'CKKRT. 381 
 
 he afterwards removed to Cobourg where he was 
 married in the year 1829. En this city he published 
 the „Fraiientaschenbiich, u the ^Ladies' Almanack," until 
 the year 1823, and, at the same time, applied to the 
 study of the oriental languages and literature, until 
 the year 1826, when he obtained a Professorship 
 at the University of Erlangen. 
 
 In 1840 William the Fourth King of Prussia, 
 summoned F. Riickert to Berlin , and appointed him 
 Privy-counsellor of the Government. He took up his 
 residence in the Prussian capital, and in the summer 
 months he retires to his beautiful country villa „Freu- 
 denfrohburg ," at Neusess, situated near Cobourg. 
 
 Frederick Riickert is a very talented didactic Poet 
 who, in German literature, has distinguished himself 
 far more by his translations from Oriental languages, 
 |hau by his own creations. No person could treat the 
 language more as a virtuoso that this Poet, however, 
 the extreme facility which he possesses in the art of 
 rhyming, has on many occasions, betrayed him into 
 the error of treating Poetry as a bagatelle. It is evi- 
 dent that F. Riickert has been sensible of the license 
 which he has allowed himself in the poetic Art, for 
 he has published a ^Select Collection of Poems": this 
 Work comprehends the Poet's best compositions.
 
 382 F. RUCKERT. 
 
 Mckert's chief Works are: • 
 
 THE METAMORPHOSIS OF ABU SEID VON SERUG, or the Makamas 
 of Harari; a free Imitation from the Original. 2 Volumes. Stuttgart, 
 182(5; 3rd Edition. 1844. 
 
 NAL AND DAMAJANTI. An Indian History. (An Episode of the grand 
 epic Poem of Maha-bharata.) Frankfort a. M. 1828. 2nd Edition. 1845. 
 
 SIHI-KING. A Collection of Chinese Songs, collected by Confucius, 
 adapted to the German tongue. Altona 1833. 
 
 POEMS OF RUCKERT. (A choice Collection by the Author.) One Vo- 
 lume. Frankfort. 1847. 
 
 THE SCIENCE OF THE BRAHMINS. A didactic Poem in Fragments. 
 1 Volume. Leipsic. 1841. 
 
 ORIENTAL MYTHOLOGICAL HISTORY. 2 Volumes. Stuttgart. 1837. 
 
 ROSTEM AND SURAB. An epic Poem. (An Episode of the Book of 
 Iran; translated from the Persian.) Stuttgart. 1846. 
 
 BRAMINICAL ANECDOTES. Leipsic. 1839. 
 
 AMRILKAIS, THE POET AND KING. His Life represented in his 
 Songs ; translated from the A rabic. Stuttgart. 1843. 
 
 SAUL AND DAVID, A Drama from sacred History. Stuttgart. 1844. 
 
 THE SPRING-TIME OF LOVE. (Poems.) Frankfort. 1844. 
 
 THE EMPEROR HENRY THE FOURTH. (1st Part. The Emperor's Coro- 
 nation. 2nd Part, The Emperor's Interment.) Frankfort. 1844. 
 
 HAMASA. The most ancient Arabian Songs , collected by Abu Temmaim. 
 Translated in two Parts, with explanatory Notes. Stuttgart. 184G. 
 
 Besides the above Works , F. RUckert has published several others , less 
 
 important.
 
 f. rCckert. 383 
 
 BARBAROSSA. 
 
 The aged Barbarossa, 
 
 Emperor of Germany, 
 Dwells in a house enchanted, 
 
 That underground doth lie. 
 
 He is not dead — but liveth 
 Within that castle deep ; 
 
 The Monarch brave retireth, 
 
 There, tranquilly, to sleep. 
 
 The Emperor has transported 
 
 The stores he most doth prize, 
 
 When strikes the hour, he'll Vaken 
 And gloriously arise ! 
 
 The Emperor reclineth 
 
 On chair of ivory, 
 Of marble is the table 
 
 On which his head doth lie.
 
 384 F. RUCKERT. 
 
 The clustering beard of Frederick 
 Is fire, of vivid glow, 
 
 And rooted in the table 
 
 On which reclines his brow. 
 
 He nods, like one who dreameth, 
 Half opened is his eye, 
 
 At intervals , he whispers 
 
 To a Page who standeth nigh 
 
 In sleep, thus speaketh Frederick: 
 „Haste to the castle-gate, 
 
 Oh Dwarf! On yonder mountain, 
 Do Ravens yet await?" 
 
 When, daily o'er yon mountain, 
 The ancient Ravens fly; 
 
 Spell-bound, I still must slumber 
 Another century?"
 
 F. RfCKERT. 385 
 
 THE FAVOURITE OF THE 
 MOORISH KING. 
 
 The Moorish King quaffs at the feast, 
 Rich wine exhilarates his soul; 
 
 While near stands many a high-born guest, 
 He gives his Chamberlain the bowl: — 
 
 „Oh! quaff the bright, luxuriant wine, 
 And wish thy King prosperity! 
 
 Of that which give the Powers divine, 
 My slaves participate with me!" — 
 
 „Long live the King!" loud echoes round; 
 
 So humbly doth the *lave incline, 
 That, from the goblet, on the ground, 
 
 Flows the exhilarating wine. 
 
 85
 
 386 F. RUCKERT. 
 
 With smile sarcastic in his eye, 
 
 The King exclaims, in drunken mood: 
 
 „Bend not with such humility, 
 
 For wine, thus shed, betokens blood!" — 
 
 He turns from him who trembling, kneels, 
 
 Oppressed by royal clemency. 
 Loud through each antichamber peals 
 
 The Monarch's voice: — he thus doth cry: 
 
 „Forth from the castle's hidden walls , 
 The tuneful Songstress hither bring! 
 
 Her silvery voice, amid these halls, 
 
 Inspires delight, as she doth sing." — 
 
 „How sweet her intonations clear, 
 
 Behind yon curtain's clustering folds! 
 
 There all, with ecstacy, will hear 
 
 A Nightingale that none beholds." — 
 
 That Nightingale's clear warblings flow 
 
 Like zephyrous wind, through evening skies; 
 
 Within each hearer's bosom now 
 
 What transports undefined arise!
 
 F. RUCKERT. 387 
 
 As though to see the magic tone, 
 
 Upon the curtain rests each eye; 
 
 Melody's charm the goblets own; — 
 In notes vibrating they reply! — 
 
 The King, enchanted, hears the strain, 
 And fills his goblet, o'er and o'er: 
 
 Who tells what feels the Chamberlain, 
 
 Trembling 'neath music's thrilling power! 
 
 A magic charm o'erwhelms his mind, 
 
 lie comes and goes, with footstep light; 
 
 The curtains waved by gentle wind, 
 Approach, alluringly invite. — 
 
 That veil is raised! — With frenzied eye, 
 
 Inebriated doth he gaze! — 
 As tempest bursting through the sky, 
 
 The King, the sacrilege surveys! — 
 
 „Who dares to gaze audaciously 
 
 On her whom I, alone, should see? 
 
 Thou shalt behold the Songstress nigh, 
 And contemplate her leisurely!" —
 
 388 F - RUCKERT. 
 
 The executioner, at hand, 
 
 Awaiteth near the corridor. 
 
 The Monarch whispers a command; 
 
 Shuddering, he quits the marble floor. 
 
 The slave returns, swift, as on wings, 
 He has performed a mission dread; 
 
 On sparkling, golden vase, he brings 
 
 The beauteous Songstress' gory head! 
 
 At the King's feet the head is placed, 
 
 The Chamberlain there trembling lies: — 
 
 „At leisure may she be embraced, 
 
 Her song contents thee not!" he cries. 
 
 ^Embrace the Songstress, fear no more! 
 
 Impatiently behold thou here, 
 With sword, already stained with gore, 
 
 My executioner is near!" — 
 
 He grasps that head — warm blood doth stain, 
 The cheek he kisses, and expires! — 
 
 The Moorish Monarch's Chamberlain 
 No executioner requires. —
 
 F. KUCKERT. 389 
 
 The Moorish Sovereign Looks around, 
 
 With keenly-scrutinizing eye: 
 The noble Moors, bend to the ground 
 
 With trembling awe, and silently. — 
 
 The King exclaims, in thrilling tone: 
 „Hence take yon relics speedily! 
 
 Within one grave may they be thrown. — 
 Who, Chamberlain elect, will be?"
 
 390 F. RUCKERT. 
 
 THE GOLDEN NUPTIALS. 
 
 „Haste! break the rock, and bring to light 
 
 That which the mines enfold; 
 Extract, from sombre shades of night, 
 
 The Prize entombed, of gold! 
 Haste! penetrate the dark retreat, 
 
 That Treasure, there concealed 
 So long, each ravished eye will greet, 
 
 When, from Earth's tomb, revealed!" — - 
 
 „Hark! — hear you, from the mountain-height, 
 
 Harmonious accents flow? 
 Tones of the Genius' lyre invite 
 
 To yon deep mine below. 
 Haste! — let your instruments resound; 
 
 Your tools, with vigour ply: 
 Oh! may the Prize concealed, when found, 
 
 Like gold, shine brilliantly!" —
 
 F. RCCKERT. 391 
 
 With joy, th'excited miner-throng 
 
 Convey axe, mattock, spade: 
 The workmen's tools reverberate long, 
 
 'Mid cavern, forest, glade; — 
 Till lo! triumphant are their blows 
 
 O'er the firm, stony shield: 
 That Prize they sacredly enclose; 
 
 The metal coverings yield. — 
 
 Alas! — the mystery revealed 
 
 Beneath the sun, is not 
 A golden treasure, long concealed 
 
 In that sepulchral spot. 
 Behold! a miracle is seen; — 
 
 All, with suspended breath, 
 Gaze on a Youth, of beauteous mien, 
 
 Who sleeps the sleep of death! — 
 
 They contemplate, with silent air; 
 
 Awe-stricken is the crowd. 
 That Youth , pale as a lily there , 
 
 Lies in a peerless shroud. 
 lie seems the offspring of a God, 
 
 In heavenly array, 
 Yet, decked, in Earth's retired abode, 
 
 As, for the bridal-day!
 
 392 F. RUCKERT. 
 
 Embroidered are the shoes with gold, 
 
 Gold tissue is his vest 
 Which twines, in many a graceful fold, 
 
 As o'er a high-born guest. 
 Rings, of the purest polished gold, 
 
 Adorn the Sleeper's hand; 
 Around his clustering hair, behold 
 
 Is Wreathed a golden band! — 
 
 Explain! — could wonder-working Earth, 
 
 In deep recesses lone, 
 'Mid dreams, — to such a form give birth, 
 
 From human blood — dust — bone? - 
 Behold! a group of flowerets fair 
 
 That grace his couch of rest, 
 To gold are metamorphosed there, 
 
 And sparkle on his breast. — 
 
 Say! — who unveils the mystery, 
 
 Why, here he found a tomb? 
 Unfold your chronicles, and see, 
 
 If they reveal his doom! — 
 Read: „By the rock which fell to-day, 
 
 Was a young Miner slain." — 
 Here, fifty years, these records say, 
 
 Entombed, the Youth has lain.
 
 Relationship, doth im man claim? 
 
 Doth no loved friend stand near? 
 None call him by a brother's name? 
 
 To no man is lie dear? 
 Say! — does the Grenius, in vain 
 
 Hither, with lyre, invite V 
 Lo! — yonder Being may explain; 
 
 Strange forms salute our sight. — 
 
 Piercing th'astonished crowd, is seen 
 
 Advancing towards the spot, 
 A Female, old, of haggard mien: — 
 
 ^Disturb — molest her not!" — 
 She gazes on the Youth, and there, 
 
 While tears gush o'er her cheeks, 
 She kneels by him, in fervent prayer, 
 
 Then stands erect, and speaks: — 
 
 „ Though, in your Volume, open spread, 
 
 No history may appear; 
 Yet, a memorial of the Dead 
 
 Is plainly written here. 
 True — underneath the rock he lay, 
 
 As yonder lines impart; 
 He thus hath lain — yes, from that day, 
 
 Entombed within my heart!"
 
 394 F RUCKERT. 
 
 „The trembling Being you survey, 
 
 Whose locks dishevelled flow, 
 Was gaily decked in Bride's array, 
 
 Yes! — fifty years ago! 
 The Inmate of this lone abode, 
 
 In golden vesture bright, 
 Should, at th'hymeneal shrine, have stood, 
 
 A Bridegroom's vow to plight." 
 
 „Our house was furnished and all smiled 
 
 On our gay wedding-day. — 
 Ah! — the rock fell, with echoes wild, 
 
 And buried there he lay. — 
 Oh, cruel Fate! — upon mine ear 
 
 His death-groan sounded not; 
 Instead of nuptial bliss — how drear 
 
 Was my terrestrial lot!" 
 
 „Ah! — five and twenty years, — how long 
 
 To those who count, as I! 
 How lingeringly those years rolled on, 
 
 While twenty-five passed by! 
 As tresses long, of silvery grey, 
 
 Around my temples fell, 
 Neither of dance, nor nuptials gay, 
 
 The tidings could I tell."
 
 F. RCCKERT. 395 
 
 „Yet ah! — full five-and-tweuty more 
 
 Long years were doomed to glide, 
 Now I, grey, crippled, chill and poor, 
 
 Stand at my Bridegroom's side. 
 What miracle do we behold 
 
 Unveiled 'neath Heaven's pure light! 
 The Bridegroom, decked in vest of gold, 
 
 The Bride does now invite!" 
 
 „Alas! with love's caresses, say, 
 
 To greet thee, should 1 dan ? 
 Of dazzling gold is thine array, — 
 
 And thou art young and fair. 
 If the calm twilight of the tomb 
 
 From Time's hand shielded thee, — 
 How has an inauspicious doom, 
 
 Now metamorphosed me!" 
 
 „Tke Powers celestial raise him now, 
 
 From realms of death and night , 
 To ratify the nuptial vow, 
 
 In golden vesture bright. 
 Yet, what avails it — Powers above! 
 
 Chilled is life's ebbing tide: 
 Our kiss — unlike the kiss of Love 
 
 Of bridegroom, and of bride!" —
 
 396 F. RUCKERT. 
 
 She bends, and, on that Form, her eye, 
 
 With piercing glance doth rest: 
 On the Youth's lip, of coral dye, 
 
 Her withered lip is pressed. — 
 Again a miracle is seen: 
 
 Arrayed in vesture fair, 
 Behold! — transformed, like Beauty's Queen, 
 
 A Maiden standeth there! — 
 
 Her gold-embroidered ,_ rich attire 
 
 Doth round the Maiden twine, 
 Her eye appears a mystic fire, 
 
 Emitting rays divine, 
 Her cheek is tinged with roseate glow, 
 
 And, on the bridal-day, 
 Her golden locks that clustering flow, 
 
 'Mid odorous zephyrs play! 
 
 As she surveys the Youth awhile, 
 
 With look benign and meek, 
 She trembles — a delusive smile 
 
 Is mantling o'er his cheek! — 
 She uttereth a piercing cry, 
 
 And yields the vital breath! — 
 The Bride and Bridegroom peacefully, 
 
 Sleep, side by side, in death. —
 
 f. rGckert. 
 
 Encircled by th'astonished throng 
 
 Are Bridegroom and his Bride; 
 Stricken in years, but ah! — how young, 
 
 To earthly joys, they died! — 
 Hark! — from yon distant mountain-brow, 
 
 Resounds the Genius' lyre; — 
 What awe, what deep impression, now 
 
 His miracles inspire! 
 
 .'397
 
 398 F- RUCKERT. 
 
 THE HUNTER OF THE ALPS. 
 
 Towards towering precipices, lu! 
 
 The Huntsman bends his way, 
 Thirsting for blood, o'er mountain-brow 
 
 And glen, he bends his way; 
 O'er craggy rock, and barren waste, 
 Th'affrighted chamois swift doth haste. 
 
 Above, drear Alpine barriers rise, 
 
 Unfathomed depths below, 
 No path that Huntsman lone descries, 
 
 How droops his spirit now! 
 He views the icy barricade, 
 And Hope's last flickering rays now fade. 
 
 The Wanderer's despair — who tells? 
 
 That solitary one 
 Invokes the Genius who dwells 
 
 In mountain-castle lone ; 
 Yet, ere he terminates the prayer, 
 Insensibly he falleth there. —
 
 F. Rl'CKERT. 399 
 
 The Genius hears. Like zephyrous wind 
 
 He glideth o'er the wild; 
 His warm, protecting arm is twined 
 
 Around Earth's wandering child: 
 The Spirit, with a guardian hand, 
 The Huntsman bears to verdant land. 
 
 Beside a crystal, murmuring brook 
 
 He 'wakes, in deep amaze; 
 Towards the majestic Alps doth look, 
 
 Yet, dubious is his gaze. — 
 „With Fortune be contented now, 
 The Genius thank, and stay below!" — 
 
 Grasping his weapons from the ground 
 Where, bloodless they had lain: — 
 
 „Ignoble to be homeward-bound, 
 
 Uncharged with chamois slain!" — 
 
 By ardour fired, with panting heart, 
 
 He hastens forth with bow and dart. — 
 
 'Mid Alpine realms doth he explore, 
 And, on the snow-decked plain, 
 
 Midst treacherous labyrinths, as before-. 
 Behold him lost again! 
 
 Forlorn, he standeth in despair. 
 
 Alps, piled on Alps, enclose him there.
 
 400 F. Rt)CKERT. 
 
 To that good Genius doth he cry 
 
 When plunged again in woe: — 
 
 „IIe who relieved when Death was nigh, 
 Compassion will bestow! 
 
 Thou guardian Genius! — hither come 
 
 And shield me from th'impending doom!" 
 
 With dread, reverberating crash, 
 
 The rocky gate unfolds, 
 And the intrusive Huntsman rash 
 
 The Genius stern beholds; 
 In hope and fear he trembling stands , 
 With clasped and supplicating hands. 
 
 Yet, ere th'indignant Genius' tone 
 Imparts the wrath he feels, 
 
 He grasps the shuddering Huntsman lone, 
 Who, supplicating, kneels, 
 
 And his tempestuous, withering breath 
 
 Hurls him to Alpine realms of death! — 
 
 Fools! — not for the unlistening ear, 
 But, for the gulph profound, 
 
 Vibrate the Genius' tones severe; 
 
 By laws they ne'er were bound: 
 
 Spirits save wanderers from the grave; 
 
 Spirits kill those they ought to save.
 
 J. \V. von GOETHE. 401 
 
 THE FIRST NIGHT OF WALPURGIS. 
 
 CANTATA. 
 
 (The German legend that, Witches, and evil Spirits assembled, the 
 night of the first of May, (Walpurgisnacht,) on the summit of the Harz 
 Mountain, is said to have originated in the heathen times, when the 
 Christains endeavoured, by force, to prevent the Druids from observing 
 their devotional rites, of sacrificing in the open air, and ou the lofty 
 hills, and mountains. 
 
 The Druids were accustomed to place around their mountains, sen- 
 tinels who, with their terrific appearance, hovering round their fires, and 
 clashing their weapons, frightened the enemy, and, by this stratagem, 
 the druidical ceremonies were performed in security. 
 
 On this tradition Gothe has composed the following poem.) 
 
 Thy smile, oh, May! 
 
 Has chassed away 
 The icicles from forest-houghs; 
 
 Snow veileth o'er 
 
 The fields, no more, 
 And, through gay bowers, Spring's music flows. 
 
 Brightly doth glow 
 
 The mountain-snow, 
 Haste! — toward yon sacred hills repair! 
 
 2G
 
 402 J. *W. von GOETHE. 
 
 We'll honour, with each hallowed rite, 
 The Father Universal there. 
 
 Rise, Flame divine, toward Heaven's blue height! 
 Thus pure may rise our heart-felt prayer! 
 
 CHOIR OP DRUIDS. 
 
 From smoke, may sacred Flames arise! 
 Perform the ancient sacrifice ! 
 Haste! — toward yon mountain-height repair; 
 Th'Eternal Father, honour there! 
 
 A VOICE FROM THE PEOPLE. 
 
 Be silent! — oh, presumptuous breath; 
 Ah! — dare you rush to certain death? 
 Have you not heard that law severe 
 
 Our barbarous victors promulgate? — 
 For heathen, and for sinner — there 
 
 Ambush, and lurking snare await. 
 They massacre, on yon high wall, 
 
 Wives — children — those we most revere! 
 The Druids — all 
 
 Will die by murderous sword, and spear! 
 
 CHOIR OF WOMEN. 
 
 On yon high battlement, and wall, 
 The sanguinary victor's sword, 
 Our babes , already, hath devoured ! 
 
 We rush — all — all 
 
 To perish where our children fall! —
 
 J. W. von GOETHE. 403 
 
 DRUID. 
 
 Who trembles now 
 
 To pay his vow, 
 Deserves the conqueror's chain to wear! 
 
 'Neath forest-tree 
 
 Are we not free? — 
 The wood is dry — the fire prepare. 
 
 Till evening-hour, 
 
 'Midst wood, and bower, 
 We'll linger, till declining day; 
 
 Our sentinels shall move around, 
 As guardians of the forest-way. 
 
 Chaffed with new zeal may all be found, 
 And, their accustomed homage, pay! 
 
 CHOIR OF SENTINELS. 
 
 Brave guardians! separately move, 
 And o'er the forest-boundaries rove, 
 While, 'mid auspicious, mystic night, 
 The Druids solemnize each rite. 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 With consternation we'll inspire 
 
 Yon sombre Monks — that priestly choir! 
 
 Haste! — with that devil they have formed, 
 Those christians might we terrify, 
 
 Come! — with pike, — rattle — pitchfork armed,
 
 404 J- AV - V0M GQEEHEi 
 
 And let our torches, raised on high, 
 Illume the rocks with lurid gleam, 
 
 And, roused by the nocturnal light, 
 Owls will commingle their wild scream, 
 
 Amid our revels of the night! 
 
 CHOIR OF SENTINELS. 
 
 Haste! with pitchfork, like that devil 
 Monks have pictured to their flock; 
 
 Let harsh rattles, 'mid our revel, 
 
 Echo through each cavern'd rock, 
 
 And, roused by our unearthly gleam, 
 
 In chorus wild, may night-owls scream! — 
 
 DRUID. 
 
 Father of Light! 
 
 'Mid shades of night, 
 We're now compelled Thy praise to sing; 
 
 Yet, when morn's ray 
 
 Wafts gloom away, 
 Unsullied hearts, to Thee, we bring. 
 
 Though, as before, 
 
 Hast Thou the power 
 To crush us 'neath a vengeful foe, — 
 
 As, from yon smoke, pure Flames arise, 
 Thus purely may our Faith still glow! 
 
 Though chassed, our Rites, — what enemies 
 Eclipse that Light — Thou dost bestow!
 
 .T. W. von GOETHE. 405 
 
 CHRISTIAN SENTINEL. 
 
 Companions haste! — sound an alarm! 
 Hell is unchained ! — Hell's legions arm ! 
 See ! — by their torches 1 lurid glare, 
 
 Yon fearful, diabolic forms, 
 Pari wolf — part man! — She-dragons there, 
 
 Commingle, in dread, fiendish swarms. 
 List! — hear ye that infernal tone? 
 
 Haste, oh, my comrades! -— Haste away! 
 Mid flames, behold the Evil- One, 
 
 And, lit by a sulphureous ray, 
 Vapours of Hell rush swiftly on ! 
 
 CHOIR OF CHRISTIAN SENTINELS. 
 
 Part man — part wolf! — Dragon-like forms 
 
 Commingle there, in fiendish swarms! 
 
 While bursts a subterraneous tone, 
 
 'Mid flames appears the Evil One! — 
 
 Lo ! — from the ground — 
 
 Hell's vapours rush, in torrents, round! — 
 
 CHOIK OF DRUIDS. 
 
 From smoke, toward Heaven, pure Flames arise, — 
 Oh, grant, thus pure our Faith may be! 
 
 Foes banish rite, and sacrifice; 
 
 Yet — who veils Light, bestowed by Thee!
 
 JOHN GAUDENZ von SAL1S-SEEWIS. 
 
 JL he name of the Poet, John Gaudenz von Salis- 
 Seewis is well known in every country in which the 
 pure language of a noble and elevated heart is known 
 and appreciated. Born on the extreme western frontier 
 of Switzerland, where the German language ceases to 
 be spoken, he was considered, as a Poet, an extraor- 
 dinary apparition in the Canton of the Grisons, where 
 civilization and intellectual cultivation are far from being 
 at their apogee. 
 
 Salis has given a bright example to his countrymen, 
 and the sweet and chaste tones of his rural Muse will 
 long vibrate amid the snow-covered Alps, and the smil- 
 ing valleys of his fatherland. May the lovers of the 
 Muses in Switzerland, listen to the notes, and respond 
 to their vibrations! 
 
 J. G. Gaudenz von Salis-Seewis was descended from 
 an ancient and noble family, belonging to the canton 
 of the Grisons. He was born the 26th December, 
 1762, at the castle of Bodmar, at Malans. He re-
 
 J. G. von SALIS-SEEWls. 407 
 
 ceived a preliminary course of education in the pater- 
 nal house, under German preceptors, one of whom, 
 M. Hilmer, was, at a later period, during the reign 
 of Frederick the Second, named superior Counsellor of 
 the ecclesiastical Court of Berlin, and, in that capacity, 
 he exercised considerable influence over public educa- 
 tion in Prussia, v. Salis pursued his other studies at 
 Lausanne. 
 
 In 1779 he entered, as officer, in the Swiss French 
 Guards, and in the year 1786 assumed the rank of 
 captain of a regiment of infantry, under the command 
 of von Salis-Samaden. At this epoch he familiarized 
 himself with French literature , and Florian became his 
 favourite author. It was not until the year 1788 that 
 v. Salis became personally acquainted with those authors 
 who formed a new era in German literature, and were 
 the most brilliant Geniuses of the German Parnassus, 
 at Jena and Weimar; namely, Goethe, Wieland, Her- 
 der and Schiller etc etc. At a later period, there 
 were very few German poets, and writers of the first 
 grade, who would not have honoured, in him, the no- 
 ble friend, and the votary of the Muses. He was on 
 terms of the strictest intimacy with Matthison who, in 
 his poems, has celebrated the virtues of his Rhaetian 
 friend, and has, on many occassionfl, long resided 
 under the same roof with our Poet.
 
 408 J. G. von SAL1S-SEEWIS. 
 
 From the commencement of the French Revolution, 
 he had abandoned the service in the Guards, and du- 
 ring the Reign of Terror which preceded the overthrow 
 of the regal throne of France, and the destruction of 
 its most brave defenders, who belonged to the Swiss 
 Guards, he returned to Paris where he had an oppor- 
 tunity of saving the life of one of his countrymen. 
 
 In the year 1792 he was named Captain, by the 
 staff of General Montesquiou, and, in quality of col- 
 league of that General , he accompanied him during the 
 campagne in Savoy. 
 
 In 1793 v. Salis returned to his fatherland, and, 
 at Coire was married to Mademoiselle Ursina Pestalozzi. 
 In his poems he has celebrated this lady, under the 
 name of „Bemice." 
 
 After the return of v. Salis, began his political 
 career. In the year 1796, when general Buonaparte, 
 and his victorious army appeared in the Milanese, on 
 the frontier of Switzerland, v. Salis was one of the 
 most active members of that congress which, by ener- 
 getic representations, edeavoured to prevent an invasion, 
 projected by the French, in Velteline and Rhaetia. 
 
 In 1798 discord arose in the Republic of the Gri- 
 sons; one party anxiously desired an intimate union 
 with the Helvetic Confederation, and this union of 
 interests, the other party obstinately endeavoured to
 
 J. G. von SALIS-SEEWIS. -109 
 
 prevent. Von Balis; .superior to all considerations, of 
 an inferior nature , when a great undertaking is at 
 stake, involving liberty and high interests, favoured 
 the union with the Helvetic Confederation, and, before 
 the arrival of the Austrian troops, whose assistance 
 had been demanded, v. Salis and his family were oblig- 
 ed to leave the country for some time. V. Salis wexd 
 to Zurich and to Berne, and, in the Canton of Zurich, 
 he obtained the post of Inspector-general of the Hel- 
 vetian troops, and, at a later period, he was invested 
 by General Massena, with the rank of General-aide-de- 
 camp of the staff, which position he maintained till 
 the end of the campaign. 
 
 In 1801 after the union of the Canton of the Gri- 
 sons with the Helvetic Republic, v. Salis returned to 
 his native country where he was nominated, Member 
 of the Legislative Assembly, and some time later, 
 Member of the Superior Court of Justice. After the 
 act of Mediation, v. Salis was appointed, Member of 
 the Inferior Council of the Canton, and, in all the 
 duties attached to these functions, he exhibited himself 
 as the true friend of his Fatherland. 
 
 As Colonel of the Canton, and President of the mi- 
 litary Commission, he had had, since the year 1814, the 
 command of the militia of the Canton of the Grisons, 
 and afterwards v. Salis was appointed Colonel of the
 
 410 J. Gr. von SALIS-SEEWIS. 
 
 Helvetic Confederation. During the latter period of 
 his life, the venerable Poet and Patriot, ever serene 
 and complaisant, lived in a calm retreat, and refused 
 all public functions, except that of Member of the 
 Schools of Coire. In education and in public in- 
 struction v. Salis perceived the morning-rays of a brighter 
 future for Switzei'land, and mankind in general. 
 
 His intimate friend Matthison remarked of him, with 
 truth : „The rural Muse of Salis accompanied him from 
 the garden and salon of Versailles to the shades of 
 the solitary forest; from the humid soil of Flanders, 
 to the picturesque borders of the Seine; amid the val- 
 leys of the Alps ofRhaetia, and amid the pealing thun- 
 derbolts of war, his Muse was his inseparable com- 
 panion." 
 
 J. G. von Salis-Seewis expired at the Castle of 
 Malans, in the year 1834. He was respected and re- 
 gretted, not only by an extensive circle of relatives 
 and friends, to whom he was justly endeared, but by 
 every Swiss of cultivated mind, and whose heart is 
 loyally attached to his Fatherland. 
 
 Works. 
 
 Many Editions of the complete Works of J. G. von Salis-Seewis ha 
 appeared at Orell Fiissli's and Co. Zurich.
 
 J. G. von SALIS-8EEWI8. I 1 1 
 
 MORNING. 
 
 Nature is veiled in twilight's mystic dyes; 
 
 As lamp within a temple, thus doth glow 
 Yon morning-star: the beech-tree's branches rise, 
 
 As from a vapourous cupola below. 
 Sols' ray illumes the rocky turrets nigh, 
 Resembling roses that on ruins lie. — 
 
 For whom are offerings of the dew-gemmed fields? 
 
 Perfumes that high, toward silvery vapour rove! 
 Incense are ye, luxuriant Nature yields 
 
 To God, from treasures fair, in wood and grove. 
 Heaven is God's altar: morning-star divine! 
 Thou'rt but a spark from that celestial shrine. 
 
 In Morning's blush that casts a roseate light 
 O'er oceans, and o'er glaciers' icy walls, 
 
 That lustre of God's throne which fades from sight, 
 Cheers man, and brightly on the grave-stone falls; 
 
 It hallows pious hope, and through Death's gloom, 
 
 Eternity's clear sun-beams pierce the tomb. —
 
 412 J- G. von SALIS-SEEWIS. 
 
 We pilgrims rove beneath the matin-ray 
 
 Of Immortality, o.ur polar-star. 
 The time when Innocence goes not astray 
 
 Dawneth beyond the tomb, and is not far. — 
 Redeemer, and Almighty God! — thy light 
 Dispels Death's gloom, and Error's shades of night!
 
 J O. von SALISSKKWIS. 4 13 
 
 EVENING. 
 
 When evening pale 
 Greets wood, and vale, 
 Wafting cooling zephyrs round, 
 When golden rays, o'er Heaven, are spread, 
 And when the bleeting sheep are led 
 
 Towards the brook, with rushes crowned 
 
 When timidly, 
 
 The hare glides by, 
 'Mid the dewy herbage green, 
 When stags forsake their lone retreat, 
 And, fearlessly the roebuck fleet 
 
 On the mountain-path, is seen; 
 
 When, with flowers fair, 
 Bound o'er the hair, 
 Scythe and rake, on shoulder, borne, 
 While echoes many a festive strain, 
 Homeward repairs the mowers' train, 
 And the reapers gay return;
 
 414 J. G. von SALIS-SEEWIS. 
 
 What dreams of joy 
 My soul employ, 
 What calm pleasure chafes my heart! 
 When Earth I view, with charms o'erspread, 
 Nought, save the rapturous tears I shed, 
 Tell of bliss, no words impart. 
 
 I listen long 
 To that sweet song, 
 Blackbirds sing, in sheltered groves; 
 I listen to the nightingale, 
 The alder-tree's thick branches veil, 
 
 While, toward reeds, the lapwing, roves; 
 
 I listen till, 
 O'er wood and hill, 
 Chirps the grasshopper, alone, 
 While homeward husbandmen repair, 
 And whistling a harvest-air, 
 
 Whet their scythe upon a stone. — 
 
 Lo! now doth move 
 The star of love, 
 'Mid the glowing western sky. 
 While the celestial rosy dome 
 Is gently veiled in misty gloom, 
 
 Stars gem Heaves's blue canopy.
 
 .1. Gk von BAlilB-SEEWIS, 415 
 
 THE FISHERMAN'S SONG. 
 
 By the Fisherman's duty 
 
 What courage we gain, 
 We possess, as our birth-right, 
 
 The stores of the main. 
 We plough not — we seek not 
 
 For treasures untold, 
 'Mid w.ild waves is our harvest, 
 
 We angle for gold. 
 
 We deposit our baskets 
 
 "Mid reeds, near the tide, 
 While we haste to the flood-gate, 
 
 Our fish to divide. 
 Golden willows o'ershadow 
 
 Our moss-covered shed, 
 We repose in cool chambers, 
 
 And mats ax'e our bed.
 
 410 J. G. von SALIS-SEEWIS. 
 
 Decked are ceiling and pannel 
 
 With coral-spray red; 
 Silvery sand, on th'apartment 
 
 Is, bounteously spread. 
 Our retired, rural garden 
 
 That stands near the sea, 
 Is fenced round with neat palings 
 
 Of bark from the tree. 
 
 Our brave boys, in each feature, 
 
 Finn courage display; 
 Their straw mats they quit gaily, 
 
 At dawning of day. 
 Now they dive 'mid seas icy, 
 
 Now, swimming, they go, 
 Now, they bare-foot climb mountains, 
 
 Enveloped with snow. 
 
 Our daughters, at evening, 
 
 With pleasure and care, 
 Are employed at their knitting, 
 
 Or nets they repair. 
 Peals of heart-felt, gay laughter 
 
 The villagers greet, 
 As the mother arranges 
 
 Our bright fire of peat.
 
 J. G. von SALIS-SEEWIS. 417 
 
 In our boats, on the ocean, 
 
 How oft do we row, 
 While the stars smile benignly, 
 
 And solace bestow! 
 The moon in Heaven's, region — 
 
 The moon on the main, 
 Leads us quickly o'er billows, 
 
 And homeward again. 
 
 We confide to the weather's 
 
 Impetuous breath, 
 In frail vessels that hardly 
 
 Secure us from death. 
 To wild winds and to billows 
 
 Our boat we confide, 
 And we scorn rocks, and dangers 
 
 That lurk 'neath the tide. 
 
 God who, 'mid night's dread tempest, 
 
 Guides lightning — wind — storm, 
 Is our Guardian through breakers, 
 
 And shields us from harm. 
 The wide wings of Jehovah 
 
 Eternally glide 
 O'er the verdure-decked mountain, 
 
 And tomb in the tide. 
 
 27
 
 41 6 J. G. vou SALIS -SEEWIS. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 To yonder peaceful Land ! — 
 What guide directs the way? 
 Shades ominous obscure the evening sky, 
 And, on the shore, augmenting ruins lie. 
 Who, with compassionating hand, is nigh, 
 To guide, without delay, 
 To yonder peaceful land? 
 
 To yonder peaceful land! 
 In you, oh, regions fair, 
 Perfection dwells! Chaste morning- visions bright 
 Give pledges sure of future pure delight. 
 He who courageously has fought life's fight, 
 The germs of Hope will bear 
 To yonder peaceful land. — 
 
 Oh land! oh, peaceful land 
 For all, 'mid tempests dread! 
 The tenderest Messenger of Fate doth stand, 
 And beckons, with his Torch reversed, in hand: 
 He gently guides to that mysterious strand, 
 Where dwells th'illustrious Dead; 
 To yonder peaceful land !
 
 J. C. F. you SCHILLER. 419 
 
 THE FESTIVAL OF VICTORY. 
 
 Fallen were the towers of Ilion, 
 
 In ashes Priam's palace lay, 
 The Grecians, flushed by victories won, 
 
 Beheld, triumphantly, their prey, 
 As, near the Hellespontine strand, 
 On their majestic ships reclined, 
 They mused on Greece — that beauteous land, 
 While waiting an auspicious wind. 
 Tune the lyre to joyous measures! 
 
 Borne by favouring winds, we glide, 
 Swiftly, o'er the silvery tide, 
 Towards fair Greece, and home's best treasures
 
 420 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 Yet, a pale, Trojan group sat weeping, 
 Heart-broken were those captives fair, 
 They beat their breast, as winds were sweeping 
 
 Through their dishevelled, waving hair. 
 O'er joy's exuberance unbounded, 
 
 Arose their agonizing cry, 
 Their wail for ruined Troy resounded 
 Amid the songs of Victory. 
 
 Fare thee well — land, ever cherished! 
 Forced by Grecian lords, we rove 
 Far from sacred homes, we love; 
 Enviable they who perished! 
 
 Calchas now offers sacrifice 
 To each protecting Deity, 
 To Palas by whom cities rise, 
 
 And, at whose word, in dust they lie, 
 To Neptune who surrounds the land 
 
 With waves that roll eternally, 
 To Jove from whose Olympian hand, 
 Dread thunderbolts, and lightning fly. 
 Now the deadly strife is ended, 
 
 Circling Time has marked the hour; 
 Crushed is lofty Ilion's power, 
 Lo! in dust is Troy descended!
 
 J. 0. P. von SCHILLER. I 2 1 
 
 A i reus' .sun, first in command, 
 
 Bad led a countless multitude, 
 And, with th'cnthusiastic band, 
 
 Sailed o'er renowned Scamander's flood; 
 Yet, grief o'erclouds the Monarch's brow, 
 
 As, with a melancholy eye, 
 lie views, how small a portion now 
 Remains of that brave company. 
 Sing, oh sing, ye joyous-hearted 
 
 Who hail Grecia's distant shore! 
 
 Many here will greet, no more, 
 
 Those loved Homes from which they parted! — 
 
 ,.A11 will not pleasure's votaries be, 
 
 When they have reached our fatherland, 
 Within home's sacred boundary, 
 
 How often dread Assassins stand! 
 By a Friend's treason many die, 
 
 When they have braved th'ensanguined fight." 
 Thus speaks Ulysses, while his eye 
 Glows with Minerva's mystic light. 
 Happy is the man who never, 
 
 At his hearth, found treachery! 
 Guile, in woman's heart, doth lie; 
 Novelty delights her ever!
 
 422 J- C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 Atrides' joyous glances rest 
 
 On his young, beauteous, captured bride, 
 He clasps her on his throbbing breast, 
 
 With an elated conqueror's pride. 
 From actions base, misfortunes rise, 
 
 And punishment, to crime succeeds: 
 Olympians, from th'avenging skies, 
 Will recompense a traitor's deeds. 
 Evil e'er with evil endeth, 
 
 The fierce ire of mighty Jove, 
 Will the violator prove, 
 When his hand the God extendeth. 
 
 „Well may the Conqueror, and the Free," 
 
 Exclaims Oi'leus' valiant son, 
 „ Vaunt each omnipotent decree, 
 
 Proceeding from th'Olympiau throne! 
 The Gods shower honours, without merit, 
 
 Joy and misfortune, Hazard gives, 
 The tomb, Patroclus doth inherit, 
 And, prosperously, Thersites lives!" 
 When Fate scattereth her treasures, 
 She is ever fickle — blind; 
 If, to-day, her gifts ye find, 
 Hasten, and enjoy life's pleasures!
 
 J. 0. 1'. toe sciill.l l.i: 123 
 
 ,War ever preys upon the best! 
 
 Oh brother! — at the festal-hour, 
 Should Memory hail thee as her guest, 
 
 In war wast thou a refuge-tower. 
 When flame 'midst Grecian vessels spread, 
 
 Our safety, in thy judgment, lay; 
 Yet, where is Fortune's favour shed? — 
 Her prize hath Cunning borne away. u 
 Peaceful be thine eternal rest! 
 
 Not by foes didst thou expire; 
 Ajax died through Ajax' ire, 
 Fierce passion e'er destroys the best! 
 
 Neoptolemus pours rich wine 
 
 To the creative Deity: 
 „0f all the Olympians divine, 
 
 Oh Father! — most I honour thee. 
 Glory's resplendent, star-gemmed crown 
 
 Is life's most valued — noblest prize, 
 A valorcrous name — deeds of renown 
 Live when, in dust, the Champion lies. 
 Thou wilt be forgotten, never, 
 In the poet's tuneful lay. 
 Soon the Living pass away, 
 Hut the Head exist for ever!
 
 424 J. C. P. von SCHILLER. 
 
 „As no sweet notes of minstrelsy, 
 
 For the illustrious Vanquished flow; 
 I'll honour," Tydeus' son doth cry, 
 
 „A conquered, yet a noble Foe; — 
 Hector, the Trojan of renown, 
 
 Died for his Gods, and Liberty, 
 And merits Fame's most brilliant crown ; 
 Immortal Hector's name will be!" 
 Celebrate that Chief who, dying, 
 
 In his country's cause, was slain, 
 And, from foes, doth glory gain; 
 Honour him, in death now lying! 
 
 The jovial Nestor who hath seen 
 Three ages of the human race, 
 Brings Hecuba, the weeping Queen, 
 
 The golden vase that laurels grace: — 
 „Oh, quaff the rich, luxuriant wine! 
 
 Forget misfortune's poignant smart: 
 Balsam is Bacchus' gift divine, 
 
 Yes! — balsam for a broken heart!" 
 
 Quaff! — Earth's nectar, brightly-glowing 
 ' Lulls each pang of sorrow's dart ; 
 Balm, to heal a wounded heart, 
 Liberal Bacchus is bestowing!"
 
 J. 0. P. von s t 1 1 1 1 i . i B 125 
 
 ..When Niobe whom wrath divine 
 Had plunged in dire calamity, 
 Tasted th'cxhilirating wine, 
 
 From grief maternal was she free. 
 Yes! — if the vivifying draught 
 
 But touch the lip of trembling woe, 
 Will not Misfortune's poisoned shaft 
 Deep, 'ncath the waves of Lethe flow? 
 When life's juice, thou broken-hearted, 
 To thy quivering lip is pressed, 
 Care is vanished from thy breast, 
 And, on Lethes wave, departed." — 
 
 A Pristess whom the Gods endued 
 
 With deep, prophetic, mystic lore, 
 First, from the regal vessel, viewed 
 
 Smoke, circling rise from Grecia's shore. — 
 Like vapours that from earth arise, 
 
 Or clouds that 'mid blue ether move, 
 Are all terrestrial dignities; 
 The Changeless is above! — 
 O'er the rider hovers sorrow, 
 
 Ships may founder near the bay; 
 Seize life's fleeting joy, to-day, 
 We may be Death's prey, to-morrow!
 
 FRANCIS DINGELSTEDT. 
 
 Frances Dingelstedt was born the 30th June 1814, 
 at Halsdorf; he commenced his studies at the College 
 of Rinteln on the Weser; in this neighbourhood his 
 father, an ancient military Officer, had fixed his resi- 
 dence in the year 1822. From Easter 1831 till the 
 expiration of the year 1834, he studied theology and 
 philology, and applied, with great zeal, to the acquire- 
 ment of ancient and modern languages and literature. 
 He passed honourably, his examinations, with the in- 
 tention of devoting himself to the instruction of youth. 
 During a year, he occupied the place of first Master, 
 in an Establishment for the education of the English, 
 at Ricklingen, near Hanover. In 1836 he returned to 
 the Electorate of Hesse, and obtained employment at 
 the newly-organized Lyceum at Cassel. 
 
 After having published two works, one entitled: 
 „The new Argonautes," and the other: ^Portraits of 
 Cassel," inserted in the „Revieiv of Europe," the Go-
 
 F. DIN6ELS1 ii" 127 
 
 vcrnmcnt cxpidscd Dingelstedt in 1838, from Cassel, 
 and stationed him at the College of Fuhla, where he 
 occupied the place of Professor, till Michaelmas 1841. 
 
 At this epoch, the editor of the „ Watchman s Songs," 
 gave his dismission, and quitted the service of the 
 Electorate of Hesse, in order to apply entirely, to 
 literature and journalism. He addressed himself to 
 M. Cotta, at Augsburg; that gentleman sent him to 
 London and Paris, as correspondent of Ids ^Gazette 
 of Augsburg;" some time later he was, in the same 
 capacity, sent to Vienna. 
 
 In 1843, while Dingelstedt was at Vienna, he 
 received a summons from the King of Wurtemberg 
 who named him, his private librarian, and aulic Coun- 
 sellor, and, in 1846 our Poet was appointed, Coun- 
 sellor of the Legation, and Teacher of the scenic Art, 
 at the court Theatre. In 1844 Dingelstedt married 
 the talented songstress, Jenny Leitzer. In the month 
 of February 1851, he was named, by the King Maxi- 
 milian, Superintendent of the national Theatre of the 
 Count of Munich, which position he now occupies. 
 
 The lyric Poems of Dingelstedt arc invariably dis- 
 tinguished by an extreme elegance of form, and are 
 the effusions of a deep and observing mind. In read- 
 ing this Poet's compositions, it is easy to perceive 
 that, he has moved in the higher circles; unfortunately,
 
 428 P. DINGELSTEDT. 
 
 in that artificial atmosphere, it frequently happens that, 
 philanthropic affection gradually diminishes until it 
 degenerates into satyre and disgust. Here, it may 
 justly be remarked that, Dingelstedt never renounced 
 the cultivation of all which is ennobling in the poetic 
 Art. Through party-spirit, his tragedy: „The House 
 of Barneveldt," failed to have that success which it 
 merited, although this Piece one of the best creations 
 of modern German dramatic literature. 
 
 Dingelstedt's chief Works are: 
 
 POEMS. Kassel and Leipsic, 1853. 
 
 LIGHT AND SHADE IN LOVE. A Novel. Cassel. 1838. 
 
 WOMAN'S MIRROR. A Novel. Nurnberg, 1838. 
 
 THE ALBUM OF HESSE. Cassel, 1838. 
 
 THE NEW ARGONAUTES. A comic Romance. Fulda, 1839. 
 
 THE PILGRIM'S BOOK. 2 Volumes. Leipsic, 1839. 
 
 THE SPECTRE OF HONOUR. 1840. 
 
 THE SUBTERRANEAN. A Memento for the Living. 2 Vol. Leipsic, 1840. 
 
 SIX CENTURIES OF THE LIFE OF GUTENBERG. Poems published 
 
 at the anniversary of Gutenberg , with Engravings and Vignettes. 
 
 Cassel, 1840. 
 SONGS OF A COSMOPOLITICAL WATCHMAN. Hamburg, 1S40. 2nd 
 
 Edition. 1842. 
 THE HEPTUMERON. A miscellaneous Collection. 2 Volumes. Magde - 
 
 burg, 1841. 
 SEVEN AMUSING HISTORIES. 2 Volumes. Stuttgart, 1844. 
 POEMS. Stuttgart and Tubingen, 1845, 
 THE SEA-SIDE. Souvenirs of Holland. 
 
 THE HOUSE OF BARNEVELDT. A Tragedy, in 5 Acts. Dresden, 1850. 
 NIGHT AND MORNING. New Poems for the Age. Stuttgart and Tii 
 
 bingen, 1851.
 
 1\ DINGELSTEDT. 429 
 
 THE MOUNTAIN OF SCIIARFENSTEIN. 
 
 A POPULAR HESSIAN LEGEND. 
 
 At Scharfcnstein, at midnight hour, 
 
 Are mystic tones revealed, 
 Like tramp of war-steeds: hark! within 
 
 Clash javelin, sword, and shield. 
 What clang of armour! Who, the doors 
 
 Assail tumultuously, 
 Till Scharfcnstein moves circling round, 
 
 And caverns open fly? 
 
 From every sombre cavity 
 
 Forth rush an armed band, 
 Who, 'neath the moon's unclouded light, 
 
 In martial order stand. 
 The tuba echoes, helmets gleam, 
 
 And banners wave through air, 
 The dark, cadaverous regiment 
 
 A Chief commandeth there.
 
 430 F. DINGELSTEDT. 
 
 They dart across th'umbrageous vale, 
 
 Bright sparks, ascend on high; 
 They gallop forth, as though on tempest's 
 
 Pinion swift they fly: — 
 „Our Fatherland! The Tiberstrand! 
 
 Now strikes the destined hour! 
 If Victory now we fail to gain, 
 
 We'll never venture more!" — 
 
 That Mount commemorates brave deeds, 
 
 In Roman days, gone by; 
 At Scharfenstein's wide base was won 
 
 A glorious victory. 
 The purple soil there drank the blood 
 
 Of countless Romans slain; 
 Their Eagle proud, once glory-crowned, 
 
 In German dust has lain! 
 
 Barbarians here — barbarians there, 
 
 Like mushrooms, strewed the gi-ound; 
 Dread foes — rocks threatening, on each side, 
 
 The Romans viewed around. 
 What execution dealt each blow! 
 
 In piles their cohorts lay, 
 Like corn beneath the reaper's scythe, 
 
 On harvest's sultry day! —
 
 F. DINGELSTEDT. 431 
 
 Iii tribulation and despair, 
 
 Alighting from his steed, 
 The Roman Emperor kneels on earth, 
 
 And thus, to Heaven, doth plead: 
 „Oh Jove! protect us from disgrace, 
 
 By thine Olympian hand! 
 Thou Mountain! — mayst thou prove our tomb, 
 
 In the Barbarians' land!" — 
 
 Reverberating thunder peals, 
 
 Jupiter's lightning flies; 
 The Mount is rent with deafening crash, 
 
 Each cavern open lies. 
 Lo! — friends and focmen are cngnlphed 
 
 Within a mountain-tomb, 
 And Scharfenstein's dark portals close, 
 
 In silence, and in gloom! 
 
 At midnight's solitary hour 
 
 Mysterious tones burst forth; 
 Th'Italians, from th'umbrageous tombs, 
 
 Must wander from the north: 
 Towards southern realms, swift gallop forth 
 
 That pale, cadaverous train; 
 On — on they gallop, yet, e'er fail 
 
 The Roman States to gain. —
 
 432 F - DINGELSTEDT. 
 
 At morning, when the cock first crows, 
 
 Th'assembled martial band, 
 To Scharfenstein direct their course 
 
 And entrance there demand. 
 As heretofore, the Mount is rent 
 
 While flames are circling round: — 
 The caves enclose the Roman troops, 
 
 With Death's sepulchral sound.
 
 F. DINUELSTEDT. 433 
 
 THE EXILES. 
 
 Six men has Fate together cast, 
 
 A frugal meal is spread; 
 Th'ingredients of their repast, 
 
 Wine, sallad, salt, and bread. 
 The clock, with melancholy sound, 
 
 Tick — tick! — a warning make.-. 
 The Exiles wildly gaze around, 
 
 Till one the silence breaks : 
 
 „When the Magnanimous unite, 
 
 They talk of the World's weal. 
 Of tarif-union, — ■ and delight 
 
 In arms of glistening steel, — 
 In sovereignty — dominion — 
 
 In kingdoms, old and new. 
 In ancestry, in pennons won, 
 
 And in their subjects true!" 
 
 88
 
 434 F - DINGEESTEDT. 
 
 „A.h! since together we are cast, 
 
 We — beggars of the street, — 
 Chaff that the wind of Fate, in haste, 
 
 Drifts on; — as thus we meet, 
 Courage! — we'll reason, frank and free. 
 
 Like those on yonder strand, 
 Of that despotic tyranny, 
 
 Borne, by our Fatherland!" 
 
 „I, oldest of the company, 
 
 Will speak, — then list to you: 
 Death to the Regent! do I cry, 
 
 Death to the Cortes too! 
 I now exclaim, as heretofore, 
 
 Near th'Ebro and Duero, 
 I cried, — and, as Til cry, once more: 
 
 Death to thee — Espartero!" 
 
 „My father, a Guerilla came 
 
 From fertile, bright Navarre, 
 Read, in th'immortal page of Fame, 
 
 Of his exploits, in war! 
 Like him — Guerilla was the son, 
 
 He played Guerilla's part, 
 Long, in Navarre, and Aragon, 
 
 With carbine, bow, and dart!"
 
 I'. DINGEL8TEDT. 135 
 
 „We fought, at Nava, the last fight, 
 
 Death stalked beneath my gun; 
 Our Pennon waved 'mid .shades of night, 
 
 And glowed 'neath morning's sun; — 
 It fell! — Wounded, and hathed in gore, 
 
 By toes we were pursued; 
 Driven from our sacred native shore, 
 
 On foreign soil we stood." 
 
 „ Accursed be the hour of flight! 
 
 Can I forget that day? — 
 O'er rugged Pyrenean height, 
 
 And gorge, our safety lay! 
 Behind us death, and death before, 
 
 And death within each breast; 
 When morn illumines Gallia's shore, 
 
 In blouses French we're dressed!" — 
 
 „Hispania! — thou, to me, art dead; 
 
 Hispania is lost, 
 Thine orphans, disinherited, 
 
 Rove, friendless, o'er thy coast! 
 My fathers' Grod my foes despise, 
 
 And treat my King with scorn ; 
 Spain, is despised by enemies, — 
 
 Hispania — strangers scorn!"
 
 436 F- DINGELSTEDT. 
 
 „As die these embers that are thrown 
 
 On earth, from my cigar; 
 Thus, shrouded in oblivion, 
 
 Will be thy name — Navarre! 
 And what remains, I scatter forth, 
 
 As now this dust is thrown. 
 Frank! — Briton! — foes from South, and North, 
 
 Hispania is your own!" — 
 
 He ends; — his Neighbour takes the glass, 
 
 And cries in bitter tone: 
 „A health to thee, Czar Nicholas! 
 
 Long life imto thy son! 
 The folk and fatherland, I scorn, 
 
 May to the devil go! 
 A Jew am I, in Poland born, 
 
 As you, my friends, well know! a 
 
 „Parbleu! — I took an oath, and fought; 
 
 Sang with the Lagienka , 
 At last, but it avail eth nought, 
 
 I fell at Ostralenka! — 
 A game of cards or nine-pins! Play, 
 
 The vilest 'neath the sun! 
 Three balls, within my body, lay, 
 
 One would the work have done!"
 
 F. DIN&EL8TEDT. tS7 
 
 ^Equipped with beggar's bag, I roved, 
 
 And fought by day, and night; 
 From Warsow to gay France, I moved 
 
 . That was the bravest fight! — 
 Oh Germany! — thou land most dear, 
 
 What luscious fare is thine! 
 What valorous words enchant the ear! 
 
 How plenteous food, and wine!* 
 
 „The chaff of laurels have I won, 
 
 With empty purse, and brain, 
 Yea, sapient Melcch Solomon, 
 
 All earthly joys are vain! 
 The boundless World is nought to me, 
 
 And nought Czar Nicholai; 
 I'm slave — I'm Ahasver to thee, 
 
 Jehovah Adonai!" — 
 
 His humid beard was smoothed and pree 
 
 Cross-knee'd reclined the Jew, 
 As, with both hands, he smote his breast, 
 
 As Jews are wont to do , — 
 Till the third Wanderer began 
 
 A theme on Turkish \ 
 A brave Corinthian was the man, 
 
 O'er Greece his fame spread far.
 
 438 F. DINGELSTEDT. 
 
 With emphasis did he relate, 
 
 How, though they bravely fought, 
 The Grecians were opposed, by Fate, 
 
 In all they hoped, and thought. 
 How, 'gainst Bavaria, he conspired, 
 
 And fought on Hydra's strand; — 
 How Basilaus, with vengeance fired, 
 
 Expelled him from the land! — 
 
 The fourth Aspirant after fame, 
 
 A Lombard, rose to tell, 
 At Spielberg — honoured was his name, 
 
 His tale he told full well. 
 The fifth, a patriotic Swiss, 
 
 Was eloquent awhile 
 On Romaniro's avarice, — 
 
 The propaganda's guile. — 
 
 Midst volumes of cigar-smoke grey 
 
 That towards the ceiling rove, 
 Glow scenes of outrage. In array 
 
 Of war, brave Chieftains move! — 
 Now glideth on the dead of night 
 
 Amid the banished throng, 
 And laughter, curses, drink excite 
 
 Each Exile's heart, and tongue. —
 
 P. DINGEL8TEDT. 
 
 One Youth, apart, is sitting then 
 
 Tale, melancholy, lone, 
 In ringlets waves his golden hair, 
 
 How timid is his tone! — 
 „Bravc little man! we fain would know," 
 
 The Exiles, laughing cry, 
 „A homeless Wanderer, why art thou, 
 
 Doomed, young, to misery V" — 
 
 „A Word had I expressed, in haste, 
 
 In the Circassians' cause; — 
 When long imprisoned, was I chassed 
 
 My country, by her laws!" — 
 Deep blushes mantle o'er his cheeks, 
 
 How tortured feels his soul! — 
 Coarse laughter echoes as he speaks, 
 
 There thunder seems to roll. — 
 
 All shout in chorus: „More than we 
 
 Thou knowest, all must own! 
 The gall and vinegar for thee; — 
 
 For thee a thorny crown! 
 Come German, take thy glass in hand, 
 
 Rise! — do as we have done; - 
 Curse thy degenerate Fatherland, 
 
 The Traitor of her Son!" —
 
 440 F- DINGELSTEDT. 
 
 What tumult wild! — With dignity 
 
 The German rises now; 
 Lightning seems flashing from his eye , 
 
 Pride animates his hrow. — 
 The pi-offered glass he spurneth there, 
 
 The fragments strew the ground; 
 His youthful hand is raised 'mid air, 
 
 His tone reverberates round : — 
 
 B Forbid! — forbid! oh, God of Heaven, 
 
 That traitor I should prove! 
 They, to whom German hearts are given, 
 
 Must e'er their Country love; 
 And if, till death, an Exile cast 
 
 From thee, my native strand, — 
 Be this my dying prayer — my last: — 
 
 God bless my Fatherland!" — 
 
 The Youth's heart-felt, long-struggling tones 
 
 Find vent in many a tear: — 
 He seemeth to those banished ones, 
 
 A Guardian-angel near ! — 
 The clock strikes twelve: — the Exiles start. 
 
 The sounds, — how chill and hoarse! - 
 Lo! when the Wanderers depart, 
 
 Each takes a different course.
 
 W von GOETHE. 1 I 1 
 
 MY FAVOURITE FLOWER. 
 
 SONG OF THE CAPTIVE COUNT. 
 
 COUNT. 
 
 I know a Flower, of beauty rare, 
 
 1 pant to call the prize mine own; 
 
 1 lain would pluck that Floweret fair, 
 
 Uut ah! — I'm here a captive lone; 
 
 When 1 enjoyed .sweet liberty, 
 
 That Flower was ever near to me. 
 My destiny — how bitter! 
 
 Mine eye, from this drear, lofty tower, 
 
 Oft roves to seek that Floweret bright; 
 
 Alas! how vainly I explore, 
 
 The Flower greets not my piercing sight; 
 
 He who that Floweret brings to me, 
 
 If chevalier, or page, lie be, 
 
 Shall feel my deathless friendship. —
 
 442 J- W. von GOETHE. 
 
 HOSE. 
 
 Beneath thy prison-bars am I, 
 
 On thee, can I bestow delight? 
 
 For me, the Rose, dost thou not sigh, 
 
 Oh, captive, yet, illustrious Knight? ■ 
 
 Thou sensitive, unhappy one! 
 
 Who doubts, the Queen of Flowers, alone, 
 O'er thy lone heart reigns sovereign? 
 
 Sweet, blushing Flower, in vesture green, 
 The palm of beauty is thine own! 
 
 Maidens adore the Flowers' bright Queen, 
 As diamond, gold, or precious stone. 
 
 Thy tint adorns the fairest cheek, 
 
 Yet, lovely Queen! the flower I seek, 
 Is not the Rose, so peerless. 
 
 Proud and ambitious is the Rose, 
 And e'er aspiring after fame; 
 
 Whoe'er with gentle feeling glows, 
 The Lily's sympathy will claim. 
 
 Lovers those whose hearts beat faithfully, 
 
 They who are pure of soul , as I , 
 Will estimate my value.
 
 J, W. von GOETHE. 
 
 Deeds ignominious I disown, — 
 
 Prom all dishonour am 1 free, 
 Yet, here, am I a prisoner lone, 
 
 And pining in captivity! 
 Although thou'rt a similitude 
 Of countless maidens, fair and good, 
 
 I know a Flower, more lovely. 
 
 Perchance that 1 may prove that Flower, 
 And, in thy jailor's garden grow, 
 
 Or, why, at morn, and evening hour, 
 
 On me, such care should he bestow V — 
 
 Exhaling perfumes rich, behold, 
 
 Luxuriantly, my leaves unfold, 
 
 In countless brilliant colours! 
 
 cor- 
 
 The fragrant Pink bestows delight, 
 
 The Pink the gardener's love has won 
 
 Now, foliage veils her from the sight, 
 
 And now he plants her 'neath the sun , 
 
 Yet, ah, that Flower which, to my heart, 
 
 Doth calm felicity impart, 
 Is modest and retiring. 
 
 I I 3
 
 444 J- W. von GOETHE. 
 
 VIOLET. 
 
 Although mine accents rarely sound, 
 And, in seclusion, though 1 live, 
 
 My silence, lengthened and profound, 
 I'll break, if solace thee it give. 
 
 Brave Knight! — am I thy favourite Flower? 
 
 I grieve that, towards thy prison-tower, 
 My fragrance ne'er is wafted ! 
 
 Bright, modest Flower! I honour thee, 
 
 What grateful sweets thy charms impart! 
 
 Yet, gentle Violet, sympathy 
 
 Heals not the Captive's tortured heart. 
 
 Far from this rock-built prison drear, 
 
 Blooms that fair Flower which I revere, 
 By memory — dearly cherished. 
 
 By yonder streamlet, silently, 
 
 Wanders my youthful Wife, alone, 
 
 There, daily will she weep, and sigh 
 Till sacred liberty I've won. — 
 
 When, a blue Flower, from that lone spot, 
 
 She ulls, and says: „Forget me not!" 
 Her accents vibrate hither.
 
 J. W. von GOETHE 445 
 
 At distance, Love's magnetic power. 
 
 O'er faithful hearts, holds mystic sway, 
 
 This dreary cell, at midnight-hour, 
 
 Is cheered hy Love's celestial ray. 
 
 When writhes my soul o'er Fate's stern lot, — 
 
 These thrilling words: „Forget me not!" 
 Bear solace vivifying.
 
 Augustus, Count of Platen-Haliermunde. 
 
 Augustus , Count of Platen-Hallermundc , was born 
 the 24th October 1796 at Ansbach, where his father 
 filled the office of High-warden of the forest, in the 
 service of Prussia. In consequence of changes which 
 took place in the Government, in 1806, he entered 
 the School for cadets, and in 1810 he was sent to an 
 Institution for the education of pages, at Munich. In 
 1814 he entered the army as lieutenant, in the Guards 
 of the king Maximilian of Bavaria, and served in the 
 campaign against France. In 1816 he made excursions 
 in Switzerland, and passed a considerable portion of 
 the following year among the Bavarian mountains. 
 
 In the month of April 1818, excited by an irre- 
 sistible thirst for science, he frequented the University 
 of Wurzburg, and in September 1819 he repaired to 
 the University of Erlangen : here he deeply studied 
 Schelling's philosophy, and, by this pursuit, having 
 his imagination inflamed with an enthusiastic love for
 
 A. von PLATEN. 447 
 
 poetry, he applied, with ind al, to the an- 
 
 cient, Oriental classics, and to modem literature, and 
 his industry produced the must auspicious results. At 
 this period he formed the acquaintance of Ruckert, 
 and the most cordial friendship sprang np Del 
 these Poets. During a short visit which Platen made 
 at Jena, he was introduced to Goethe: at Baireuth 
 he received the most hospitable reception from Jean 
 I 'aid, and in Suabia, Uhland and Schwab welcomed 
 him with with every demonstration of respect. In 
 1824 he travelled through Italy and Switzerland, and 
 remained some time at Venice. At this epoch he still 
 belonged to the army, and, at his return, he was con- 
 demned to several weeks' severe arrest at Ntimberg, 
 for having, in the city of the Doge, exceeded his leave 
 of absence. 
 
 After having published the „Vevhangnissvolle Gabel," 
 „The fain! Fork" and when he had liberated himself 
 from all his military engagements, Platen, feeling dis- 
 contented with the political position of bis fatherland, 
 on the 3rd September 182G, he took his departure, 
 and directed his course towards Italy where he re- 
 mained six years, chiefly residing at Rome, Venice, 
 and Naples, ami devoting himself, almost exclusively, 
 to tip In 1823 the Royal Academy at Munich 
 
 named him Member extraordinary, this produced a trif-
 
 448 A von PLATEN. 
 
 ling annual emolument Platen's father died in 1832, 
 and, by the request of his mother, he returned to 
 Germany. In 1833 Platen was animated by a desire 
 to breathe the mild air of Italy: he repaired to Venice, 
 but frequently visited Munich and Augsburg, to su- 
 perintend the publication of the second edition of 
 his „Poe???.?." 
 
 In April, 1834 he again felt lingering desires to 
 repair to Italy, yet, not foreseeing that this determi- 
 nation would eternally separate him from his friends 
 and his country! December 5th 1835 the Count of 
 Platen died of a violent fever, at Syracuse, whither he 
 had gone to escape the cholera which then raged vio- 
 lently at Naples. The relics of this Poet lie near Sy- 
 racuse , in the solitary garden of the Sicilian , Landolina 
 who being a man of elevated mind, and feeling heart, 
 had a monument erected to his memory, on which 
 was engraved the following inscription: „Ingenio Ger- 
 manus, forma Graecus, novissimum posteritatis exemplum. " 
 
 No other German poet, perhaps, has studied the form 
 of his composition so much as Platen. The Greek 
 metres in which Klopstock first wrote his sublime odes, 
 have been still more successfully employed by Platen. 
 We must not however, for that reason, believe, he is 
 superior to the great Reformer of modern German li- 
 terature. One of Klopstock's distinguished disciples
 
 A. von PLATEN. 1 l'.l 
 
 only, is Platen who, after having initiated himself in 
 the art of his Master, looks down on him, from his 
 proud eminence, and criticises him in the most unge- 
 nerous manner. In thus acting, in all prohahility, Platen 
 has mentally felt the vast distance which exists between 
 men of genius, and men of talent. Platen belongs to 
 the latter class. In his complete Collection, we occasion- 
 ally find admirable specimens of poetry, but they are 
 rare. This Poet, too frequently fails in that sacred 
 lire which involuntarily chafes the imagination: however, 
 his thoughts and sentiments are, as pure gold, always 
 genuine and original, although they may not be very 
 powerful. Justice should be rendered him, for no man 
 can produce that which he possesses not internally. 
 The pieces which arc admitted in this Collection, have 
 long been considered, by the German critique, the best 
 compositions which have emanated from the pen of the 
 Count of Platen.
 
 450 A. von PLATEN. 
 
 The Count v. Platen's chief Works are: 
 
 LYRICAL EFFUSIONS. Leipsic, 1821. 
 
 GHASELIS. Erlangen, 1821. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS PRODUCTIONS. Leipsic, 1822. 
 
 NEW GHASELIS. Leipsic, 1824. 
 
 DRAMAS. (Containing: The glass Slipper. — Berenger.) Leipsic, 1824. 
 
 ODES: (addressed to King Lewis.) Leipsic, 1825. 
 
 SONNETS WRITTEN AT VENICE. Leipsic, 1825. 
 
 THE FATAL FORK. A Comedy in 5 Acts. (Written against Milliner 
 and the Writers of fatalist Tragedies.) Stuttgart and Tubingen, 182fi. 
 
 DRAMAS. (Containing: The Treasures of Rhampsinit, a Comedy. — 
 The Tower with seven Doors, a Comedy. — Fidelity for Fidelity, a 
 Comedy. — ) Stuttgart and Tubingen, 1828. 
 
 THE ROMANTIC OEDIPUS. A Comedy in 5 Acts. (Written against 
 H. Heine.) Stuttgart, 1829. 
 
 HISTORIES OF THE KINGDOM OF NAPLES. From 1414 to 1443. 
 Frankfort, 1833. 
 
 THE LEAGUE OF CAMBRAI. A historical Drama in 3 Acts. Stutt- 
 gart, 1833. 
 
 THE ABBASLDES. A Poem in 5 Cantos. Stuttgart and Tubingen, 1830. 
 
 POEMS. Posthumous Works. Strasburg, 1839. 
 
 COMPLETE WORKS, in one Volume. Stuttgart and Tubingen, 1842.
 
 A. von PLATEN. 1 ."i 1 
 
 Z 11 I R. 
 
 Abdallah, blood-thirsty, and ravenous for gain, 
 His cohorts conducts o'er th' Arabian plain; 
 On Tripoli's strand, 
 How soon the adventurous combatants stand! 
 
 Long before they besiege rampart — battery, 
 From Byzantium sent, Gregory meets their eye; 
 As th' Arabians draw near, 
 The Governor, flushed by success, doth appear. 
 
 As the troops fanatic he animates there, 
 
 To his side hastes his Daughter with golden hair, 
 
 A spear in her hand, 
 
 And, in bright coat of mail incased, doth she stand. 
 
 The Maiden had acted a warrior's part, 
 
 The lance could she wield , she could shoot with the dart ; 
 
 'Mid desperate tight 
 
 Lo! in her, Cythera and Pallas unite!
 
 3 
 
 452 A. von PLATEN. 
 
 Regarding his champions keenly, her Sire, 
 With courage redoubled, each bosom to fire, 
 Cries: „ Aspirants to Fame! 
 At Abdallah your weapons, unceasingly, aim!" 
 
 „On him who the head of our Foeman shall bear, 
 
 I'll bestow Maria, the youthful and fair, 
 
 With riches untold, 
 
 And magnificent presents of jewels and gold!" — 
 
 What courage redoubled the Christians display! 
 
 The Mahometans feel their valour decay, 
 
 In his tent's lone gloom 
 
 Abdallah avoideth a perilous doom. — 
 
 Behold! 'mid the combatants rideth, from far 
 Zobir; — he's a thunderbolt fearful, in war: 
 Warm life-blood doth stain 
 His spur, as he rides o'er the wide battle-plain. 
 
 To the Chief-in-Command , as lightning, he flies: 
 „As a child dost thou act, Abdallah!" he cries, 
 „In thy tent remain! 
 'Tis thy duty the World, for the Caliph, to gain!"
 
 A. von PLATEN. 453 
 
 „May the artifice, Christians 'gainst us create, 
 
 lie a weapon destructive to seal their fate! 
 
 With their Coin let us pay, 
 
 And prove we're as wealthy, and valourous as they!* 
 
 „Arouse thee! — Let this Proclamation be spread: — 
 On him who here brings our chief Enemy's head, 
 On him — yes, e'en now, 
 As Bride — I'll the beauteous Maria bestow!* — 
 
 The words of Zobir doth Abdallah impart, 
 New zeal chafes his warriors, inspired is each heart: 
 In front is Zobir, 
 
 Mid the Christians, dread slaughter lurks 'neath his 
 bright spear! — 
 
 In the Christians' entrenchments, what dire dismay, 
 When the Prophet's believers their banner display! 
 Their pennons, through air, 
 On the four Castle-turrets are hovering there! — 
 
 Maria now stands 'mid an insolent crowd, 
 With accents victorious, insulting, and loud. 
 With eye dimmed by tears, 
 Before proud Zobir, the fair Captive appears. —
 
 454 A. von PLATEN. 
 
 A Chief, 'mid the concourse, excitingly cries: 
 „We bring the most precious, the loveliest Prize, 
 Each, fain, would have won: 
 The Captive, oh, Saracen brave, is thine own!* — 
 
 The Victor replies with ironical smile: 
 
 „Who corrupts a brave heart? — Mine, who dares 
 
 to beguile? 
 My Sword will I draw 
 For my God, and the Prophet's eternal law!" 
 
 „Not as you, I aspire Christian women's heart 
 To subdue! — Thou art free- oh Maiden! depart! 
 O'er thy Sire shed a tear 
 And, for ever, detest his foeman, Zobir!"
 
 \. von PLATEN. 165 
 
 THE PILGRIM BEFORE THE MONASTERY OF 
 ST. JUSTUS. 
 
 (Charles the Fifth, Enineror of Germany, and King of Spain, after 
 having abdicated the throne, retired to the Monastery "f 8t. Ju tus, and 
 became a monk.) 
 
 „'Tis night, the tempest howls, dark torrents pour: 
 Thou Spanish monk, arise! Unbolt thy door!" 
 
 „Here let me rest till 'wakened by the chime 
 That calleth toward the Church, at morning-time \ u 
 
 „Give all thy law monastic has allowed; 
 A Friar's cowl, sarcophagus, and shroud!" 
 
 „ Ordain me: grant a tranquil cell, I pray; 
 
 Half of this World — nay, more, once owned my 8way! a 
 
 „This head which, 'ncath your scissars, bendeth down, 
 lias been adorned with many a jewelled crown!" 
 
 „This form o'er which the Friar's cowl is laid, 
 Once, with imperial ermine, was arrayed!" 
 
 „I'm like the Dead, ere Death has grasped his prey, 
 And, like mine Empire — crumbling to decay!-
 
 ioO A. von PLATEN. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF COLUMBUS. 
 
 (Atlantide is an island or a vast continent which , according to ancient 
 traditions, preserved by Plato , (in the ,,Timaeus ," and „Crilias,") was 
 
 situated in the Atlantic ocean, opposite the Pillars of Hercules. The in- 
 habitants of Atlantide had conquered a great part of Africa and Western 
 Europe, when their country was annihilated by earthquakes, followed by 
 a deluge. Atlantide is perhaps only an imaginary island, yet, many per- 
 sons imagine that, by Atlantide, is meant the immense American Continent.) 
 
 'Mid waves and darkness, o'er the liquid way, 
 The vessel navigates, with movement light: 
 
 No tempest lowers, stars shed their heavenly ray, 
 As tolls the knell of the departed night. — 
 
 The Emperor, recently dethroned, has now 
 
 Reclined his brow imperial on his hand, 
 
 As billow following billow, swift doth How 
 lieneath the keel of the Northumberland. 
 
 He thinks of many a conquest: to his mind 
 
 Revive brave hosts, long mingled with the dead, 
 
 As waves, like coiling serpents, are entwined 
 Amid gigantic ruins , near him ' spread.
 
 A. vou PLATEN l.")7 
 
 Thai Chief whom southern deserts ne'er Bubdued, 
 That Chief who northern ices could defy, 
 
 Now, by the billows cradled , on the flood , 
 Within a narrow space doth captive lie! 
 
 As memory painteth glories, passed away, 
 While he upbraids his God, and Destiny, 
 
 And, as warm tears commingle with the spray, 
 The Spirit of a Hero greets his eye: — 
 
 ^Complain thou not, though pierced thy soul may be! 
 
 Complain thou not! — for thee falls balm from Heaven: 
 Unjustly, wnmgs, like thine, were borne by me; 
 
 The name Columbus — Time, to me, has given." 
 
 „I first steered through this wilderness oi waves, 
 O'er which thy gushing tears of anguish pour: 
 
 1 navigated, first, that sea which laves 
 
 Atlantis: — I stood, first upon her shore !" 
 
 „ln morning-rays of variegated glow, 
 
 Behold the Resurrection of that land, 
 I found, — on Man, sweet balsam to bestow; 
 
 Not statute-labour of a Ferdinand!"
 
 45S A. von PLATEN'. 
 
 „Thy Star set 'neath th' unconquerable North; 
 
 Yet those who, at thine overthrow, rejoice, 
 Will tremble when barbaric hordes rush forth 
 
 To quell their Jubilee's harmonious voice!" 
 
 „When comes the day of universal woe, 
 
 (And nought arrests the solemn course of Time ,) 
 
 Columbia! — on free hearts a Home bestow! 
 Europe's last Heroes, shield in thy free clime!" 
 
 „When executioners unsheath their glaives, 
 
 Toward Freedom's sons a welcome Guest will fly; 
 
 On flower-crowned vessels, borne o'er western waves, 
 Will float the star-gemmed flag of Liberty!" 
 
 „Sail westward, chafed by sunny beams of light, 
 That glow on silent ocean's hallowed breast! 
 
 Westward, Earth's countless nations will unite; 
 
 Thou art their Herold ! — Sail thou toward the West ! — 
 
 The Shadow of Columbus thus doth speak, 
 And disappears like an extinguished star. — 
 
 Joy's flush illumes the mighty Conqueror's cheek, 
 While scenes of Europe vanish from afar.
 
 J. C. F. von SCHILLER 459 
 
 THE CRANES OF 1BYCUS. 
 
 A B A L L A D. 
 
 When chariot-racing, feast, and snng, 
 Towards Corinth, lure the joyous throng, 
 Of Grecia's sons who thither bend, 
 Speeds Ibycus, th'Olympians' friend. 
 Apollo's gift — Heaven's sacred glow, 
 
 Fires Ibycus' immortal lay; 
 From Rhegium, as he wanders now, 
 
 Sweet inspirations cheer his way. 
 
 Corinthian towers, on mountain-height, 
 Already greet the Minstrel's sight: 
 He feels a mystic, solemn thrill, 
 In Neptune's pine-wood, dark and still. 
 A flock of Cranes attracts his eye, 
 
 The sombre throng his footsteps trace . 
 Migrating towards a southern sky, 
 
 They, here have found a resting-place.
 
 460 J. C. P. von SCHILLER. 
 
 „ Welcome! — companions, kind and good! 
 
 With Ibycus you crossed yon flood. 
 
 Auspicious Harbingers are ye, 
 
 How similar our destiny! 
 
 From a far distant clime we roam, 
 
 To seek a hospitable strand; 
 Soon may the strangers find a home, 
 
 And shelter from oppression's hand!" — 
 
 As, rapidly, in joyous mood, 
 He gains the centre of the wood, 
 Two Murderers doth the Bard descry, 
 Forth rushing from an ambush nigh. 
 He wrestles with th'Asasssins bold; 
 
 Unequal strife! — his hands soon yield; - 
 Hands formed for the lyre's strings of gold, 
 
 Unskilled defensive arms to wield. 
 
 To Gods and men his prayers arise; 
 
 Ah! — thither no deliverer flies, 
 
 To his appeal, re-echoing round, 
 
 Reposndeth not a human sound. — 
 
 „In foreign land thus yield my breath! — 
 
 Unsoothed by friendship's balmy tear! — 
 Fierce Brigands strike the blow of death; 
 
 Is no Avenger hovering near!" —
 
 .!. c. v von scini.l.r.i: lt',1 
 
 lie falls o'erpowered, and, as he lies, 
 
 With pinion swift the Cranes arise; 
 
 Their dirge-like tones burst 'mid the sky, — 
 
 That Knell he hears, though closed his eye. — 
 
 „Ye Cranes, that high, in ether move! 
 
 If none — save you — record my death, 
 Murder's Accusers may you prove!" — 
 
 The Poet sighs, and yields his breath. — 
 
 When, in the wood, the corpse is found, 
 Though pierced with many a gory wound, 
 The host Corinthian sheds the tear 
 Of friendship o'er that form, — still dear. — 
 „Thus, Ibycus, I find thee now! — 
 
 I hoped, with Victory's crown of pine, 
 I should have decked thy honoured brow, 
 
 Chafed with the flush of Art divine!" — 
 
 The rumour of the Poet's doom, 
 
 O'er Neptune's Festival casts gloom; 
 
 Each spirit throbs, in sympathy, 
 
 Each heart is pierced — tears dim each eye. 
 
 Swift, towards the Judgment-hall, the crowd, 
 
 With tones tumultuous repair, 
 And, with excited accents loud, 
 
 Vengeance, for Murder, claiming there. —
 
 462 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 Ai as ! — where find the trace of blood 
 Amid this throng, this living flood, 
 Assembled at the Sea-god's feast? — 
 Who indicates the murderous Guest? — 
 Did lurking robber strike the blow? — 
 
 'Was it a foeman's perfidy? — 
 Thou Sun, all-piercing! — thou dost know; 
 
 What earthly deed is veiled from thee! 
 
 Guilt daringly, with mask of peace, 
 Perchance glides 'mid the sons of Greece, 
 And while keen Justice near him stands, 
 Eats fruit he plucked with blood-stained hands. 
 Yes! — at our Temple's hallowed door, 
 
 The Murderer may defy his God, 
 Or move in pleasure's throngs that pour, 
 
 As human waves , to Joy's abode ! — 
 
 The pillars of that Hall seem bowed 
 Beneath th'accumulated crowd 
 Of Grecians who, from far and wide, 
 Assemble. — From that living tide, 
 As from swift billows on the sea, 
 
 Tones murmuring and tumultuous roam, 
 From seats o'er seats, progressively 
 
 Ascending towards Heaven's azure dome ! —
 
 ,i. c. v. vmi bCHiLLEE. it;:; 
 
 Who count the nations V — who could name 
 Guests numberless that hither came, 
 From Theseus city — Aulis' strand, 
 From Phocis, from the Spartan's land, 
 And from remotest isles that lie 
 
 Around the Asiatic coast ? — 
 To the Choirs awful melody, 
 
 Listens that dense, astonished host. — 
 
 With measured pace, and solemnly, 
 The Choir, as rites of old decree, 
 With rigid movement, glide around, 
 The amphitheatre's vast ground. — 
 Those Women that mute throng behold, 
 
 Live not in earthly dwelling-place; 
 Their forms, above the human mould, 
 
 Bespeak them of gigantic race! 
 
 Vesture of sombre dye they wear, 
 
 In their pale, fleshless hand they bear 
 
 Torches of ghastly, lurid glow, 
 
 On their wan cheeks no blood doth flow; — 
 
 Bright tresses, waving with the wind, 
 
 O'er human temples brightly play; — 
 ■On theirs, poison-swollen asps are twinM, 
 
 Ami serpents coil, in dread array!
 
 464 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 As glide the Choir, in circles round, 
 They sing a Hymn, of thrilling sound; 
 Those measures vibrate through each heart, 
 And terrors dread to Guilt impart. 
 The fearful accents paralyze 
 
 Each soul and spirit in the throng; 
 No lyre's melodious tones arise 
 
 Amid the Choir's mysterious song : — 
 
 „Happy that man whose guileless soul 
 Is ne'er enslaved by Guilt's control ! 
 From us — the AVENGERS, he is free, 
 And, o'er life's stage, moves, peacefully; 
 But, woe to Brigands! — With keen sight 
 
 For them — what tortuous nets we spread! 
 Ah! we, the DAUGHTERS OF THE NIGHT, 
 
 Lurk ever where Assassins tread ! " 
 
 „By flight, would Murderers shun our eye? 
 Whithersoe'er they hide, — We fly; 
 Their path, with trammels We inthral 
 Till, in our snare, the Guilty fall! 
 Repentance — tears, avail no more, 
 
 We follow them remorselessly; 
 Not on Styx' melancholy shore, 
 
 From us, the FURIES, are they free!" —
 
 J. C. 1\ von SCHILLER. 165 
 
 They sing — they dance. — Each panting breath 
 
 Is hushed, as by the wand of Death: 
 
 A solemn feeling sways each mind, 
 
 As, to the Godhead's power resigned. — 
 
 The Choir, as rites of old ordain, 
 
 With measured pace, and glance severe, 
 Circle the Theatre again; — 
 
 In distance, lo! they disappear. — 
 
 Truth, and Illusion, o'er each breast, 
 
 Alternately have sway possessed, 
 
 Yet, all revere that Sovereign Might 
 
 "Who judges all, though veiled from sight; — 
 
 ThTnscrutable — The Undefined 
 
 Who Fate's mysterious web hath spun, — 
 That Power which rules man's heart, and mind, 
 
 Yet, vanishes before the sun. — 
 
 Hark! - — from the seats — the loftiest tier, 
 A voice awakeneth every ear: — 
 „Look yonder, "It, TVmotheus! 
 Behold the Cranes of Ibycus!" — 
 Gloom transient veils Heaven's canopy, 
 
 And, o'er the Theatre, the crowd 
 Survey a swarm of Creates that fly, 
 
 With tones discordant, shrill, and loud. — 
 
 30
 
 466 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 „Of Ibycus!" — That name, so dear, 
 Inflames the breast of all who hear. 
 As wave on wave, 'mid boisterous sea, 
 Each echoing voice cries eagerly: 
 „Of Ibycus! — that Bard who died, 
 
 Pierced by th' Assassin's murderous arm? — 
 Yet — why his honored Name allied 
 
 With yonder Cranes — that sombre swarm?" 
 
 Questions, tumultuously arise; 
 Each heart, as lightning swift, replies, 
 Forebodingly, yet, clear as light: — 
 „EUMENIDES! — we own your might! 
 Justice is near — Guilt has confessed; 
 
 The Murderers have silence broken! 
 Haste! — him who spoke those Words — arrest ? 
 
 With him to whom the Words were spoken." — 
 
 He who that Sentence had expressed, 
 Would fain have veil'd it in his breast; 
 Too late! — his fear-blanched cheeks reveal 
 That Deed — he struggles to conceal. - 
 Within the Judgment-court they stand, 
 
 The Scene is changed to Justice' throne, 
 And, ere keen Vengeance' fearful brand 
 
 Descends — their Crime the Murderers own.
 
 Antonio Alexander Maria Connt von Auersperg. 
 
 Antonio Alexander Maria, Count von Auersperg, 
 was born at Laibach in Carniola, the 11th of April 
 180G. This Poet is known, in the literary world, by 
 the pseudo name of Anastasius Griin. He received his 
 preliminary education under the paternal roof, at the 
 castle of Thurn in Carniola, near Hart; his professor 
 was an ex-Fransiscan. In the summer of 1813 his father, 
 Count Maria Alexander Charles von Auersperg, sud- 
 denly formed the resolution, to send the young Alexan- 
 der to the College, known as the Theresianum, in 
 Vienna, to prosecute his studies; but hardly had two 
 years passed away, when the future Poel was pronounc- 
 ed to be incorrigible, by the pedagogues of the Aca- 
 demy of Chevaliers. Perchance that the reason for 
 this harsh sentence was, because the germs of a man 
 of liberal ideas, and of a poetical genius, began to de- 
 velope themselves in the student, in a manner mere 
 lively than harmonized with the principles, incul
 
 1G8 A. GRUN. 
 
 at the Theresianurn , an Institution destined for the edu- 
 cation of the young German nobility. 
 
 At the expiration of two years, v. Auerspcrg quitted 
 the Theresianurn, to frequent the Academy of Engi- 
 neers. At his father's death, his chief guardians sum- 
 moned him from this Academy, because they consi- 
 dered the military career not eligible for an only son. 
 The Youth was afterwards sent to a private Esta- 
 blishment for education, but the sombre and austere 
 spirit which reigned there, inspired the young Poet 
 with sentiments of bitterness and disgust. Soon 
 afterwards, during two years, he applied to the study of 
 jurisprudence and philosophy, at the Universities of 
 Vienna and Gratz. 
 
 In 1831 v. Auersperg quitted the imperial city, in 
 order to take possession of the Domain of Thurn, near 
 Hart which had lately been left him as a heritage, 
 but he made frequent excursions to Vienna, during the 
 year, and occasionally visited Italy. In 1837 he went 
 to France, Belgium and England. The 11th July 
 1839 he married Maria, Countess of Attems, daughter 
 of a privy Counsellor, and superior hereditary Cham- 
 berlain of his Majesty the Emperor of Austria. The 
 father-in-law of v. Auersperg held, at the same 
 time, the office of Governor-general of the province of 
 Steiermark.
 
 \ GRiJN. 169 
 
 March 13th 1848 v. Auersperg was a witness ol 
 that great Demonstration of deliverance which took 
 place at Vienna, and the 16th of the same month, he 
 brought to the town of Gratz, which was in a great 
 state of effervescence, the Patent, with the promise of 
 a new Constitution. In April he took his place, at 
 Frankfort a. M. , in the National Assembly, where he 
 was appointed as one of the ^Committee of Fifty," 
 („Fiinfziger u ). A short time after having been called 
 to take his place in the National Assembly, he gave 
 his vote on several important questions. In the month 
 of August our Poet returned to his paternal mansion, 
 because he did not believe that his sentiments coidd 
 be the expression of the opinions of his electors who were, 
 principally, Slaves. Since that period, he has chiefly 
 resided at the family-mansion, where he devotes a 
 considerable portion of his time to literary occupations. 
 
 The Count v. Auersperg belongs to that small num- 
 ber of poets, among whom the imagination and the 
 heart are in equilibrium with reason. It is not by ex- 
 travagant images, and by hollow phrases that he en- 
 deavours to make himself remarkable; without effort 
 he is possessed of the secret of leading the heart 
 captive by the purity, sensitiveness, and elevation of his 
 ideas, all of which tend to the service of humanity. 
 Wc cannot however say that, v. Auersperg is always
 
 470 A. GRUN. 
 
 happy in the choice of his metres, he has employed 
 many which are rather harsh, and are hut little in har- 
 mony with the genius of the German language. 
 
 The chief Works of the Count of Auersperg are: 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF LOVE. Stuttgart, 1830. 
 
 THE LAST KNIGHT. A Collection of Romances. Stuttgart, 1830. 5th 
 
 (miniature) Edition. 1847. 
 THE "WALKS OF A VIENNA POET. Hamburg , 1831. 3th Edition 1844. 
 RUINS. Poems. Leipsic, 1835. 8th Edition. 1847. 
 POEMS. Leipsic, 1837. nth Edition, 1852. 
 DIE NIBELUNGEN. Leipsic. 1843. 
 
 POPULAR SONGS OF CARNIOLA. Translated. Leipsic , 1850. 
 THE PASTOR OF KAHLENBERG. A pastoral Poem. Stuttgart, 1850. 
 
 V. Auersperg has also published; 
 THE POSTHUMOUS POETICAL WORKS OFK. LENAU. Leipsic, 1 551.
 
 A. Gl{'\ 1 I 1 
 
 THE UNKNOWN. 
 
 Through yonder narrow city-gate 
 
 An aged Beggar forth doth rove; 
 
 No benedictions fond await 
 
 On him — no farewell tone of love. 
 
 Dark clouds on Heaven's mysterious way, 
 No message, from their God, revealed; 
 
 The lofty rocks of sombre grey, 
 
 Spoke not of treasures they concealed. 
 
 Who that surveys yon leafless tree 
 
 Which bends 'neath Winter's blighting air 
 Would think that, once luxuriantly, 
 
 Rich fruit, and blossom flourished there? 
 
 Who would believe yon Beggar, dressed 
 In penury's mean garment now, 
 
 Was once attired in purple vest, 
 
 And regal crown adorned his brov ?
 
 472 A. GRUN. 
 
 His purple robe and crown of gold 
 Alas! — became sedition's prey; 
 
 His sceptre is a staff: — behold 
 
 The Pilgrim lone on life's drear way! — 
 
 Year after year rolls circling by, 
 
 Grief-worn, unblest, unknown and poor, 
 
 Forlorn he roves with down-cast eye, 
 
 From land to land, from shore to shore! 
 
 Beneath a flower-enamelled tree, 
 
 The Wanderer's brow, on earth is pressed: 
 The branches lull him tranquilly, 
 
 'Mid dreams, to Death's eternal rest. — 
 
 A tribute memory still doth pay 
 
 To that heart-broken Exile poor: 
 
 „ Where is the Wanderer," many say, 
 
 „Who, houseless, roved from door to door? — 
 
 That Pilgrim lone who slumbering lies, 
 Full well maternal Nature knows; 
 
 Peerless funereal obsequies, 
 
 Upon a Sovereign she bestows.
 
 A. GUi'X 17.1 
 
 The tree's fair garland is arranged 
 Around the Monarch's brow: behold! 
 
 The Beggar's staff, the sun has changed 
 To sceptre of refulgent gold! 
 
 The waving flowery branches spread 
 
 A rich, funereal canopy; 
 The purple vesture of the Dead 
 
 Descends from evening's glowing sky!
 
 17-1 A. GRUN. 
 
 THE TEARS OF MAN. 
 
 Oh Maiden! didst thou see me weep? — 
 
 To me is Woman's tear 
 Like dew of Heaven that flowerets keep 
 
 In odorous petals clear. 
 
 If shed by melancholy night, 
 
 Or morning's smiling ray, 
 Heaven's dew makes flowers of Spring more bright, 
 
 More flourishing, and gay. — 
 
 The tear that gushes from Man's eye, 
 
 Is like the gum concealed 
 In trees 'mid wilds of Araby, 
 
 Not willingly revealed. 
 
 The pith and marrow of the tree 
 
 The weapon must divide, 
 Then, unrestrained and brilliantly, 
 
 The golden juice will glide.
 
 \ GRUN. 
 
 Though staunched may be life's ebbing vein, 
 
 The tree look green and fair, 
 And welcome many a Spring again; 
 Yet, still the wound is there! — 
 
 Maiden ! — think of the wounded tree , 
 
 On eastern mountain steep! — 
 Maiden! — recall to memory 
 
 That Man thou sawest weep!
 
 476 A. GRUN. 
 
 MIDNIGHT SCENE 
 
 AMID THE RUINS OF A CLOISTER. 
 
 FROM A WORK ENTITLED: „RUINS." 
 
 Th'eternal moon illumes the dome of night, 
 Lamps, o'er the Cloister, shed eternal light; 
 Twelve tones now vibrate! — Midnight's solemn knell 
 Midst coffins sounds, as once in monk's lone cell! 
 
 Once at the Hora, from the sombre bier, 
 A darkly-vestured throng was seen t'appear: — 
 With pennons decked with garlands, they advance, 
 And bear a flower-crowned Cross on sparkling lance. 
 
 Thus now, towards yon Cathedral, silently 
 The solemn Choir pi - oceed, with downcast eye; — 
 Hark! — hymns resound: the organ's echoing note, 
 Near pillar, wall, and cupola, doth float:
 
 A. <;ri\ 177 
 
 „Alas! — our Structure fair, in dust is cast, 
 The seed we sowed, keen .storms destructive blast! 
 The fruit of all our industry, and prayer, 
 Men spurn, or scatter 'mid tempestuous air!" — 
 
 The Shadows of two artists, dead, appear! 
 The Architect and Painter wander near; 
 The crumbling marble statues each surveys; 
 The faded altar-piece arrests their gaze: — 
 
 „]>arbaric Time! — thine arm, ruthless and wild, 
 Our work destroyeth, like a wilful child! 
 Oh, dust and moss! — our winding-sheet arc ye, 
 Corroders secret of vitality!" — - 
 
 Uehold! — arising from a mystic tomb, 
 A Shade, with compass, rule, and square doth come; 
 He leans on crumbling stones that scattered lie; 
 O'er tower and cupola, how roves his eye! 
 
 aWhen ye I view, proud Columns, round me thrown! 
 
 Internally I feel bom: crushed on bone. 
 
 lie who, in Life's employments, fails in all, 
 
 'Mid Death's profound abysses, twice doth fall!-
 
 478 A ' GRttN. 
 
 As Luna contemplates the Shades, awhile, 
 Illumined is her disk with joyous smile: — 
 „Hithcr, as shadow of the Sun, I stray, 
 lie charges me, a message, to convey:" — 
 
 „From year to year 1 circle 'mid the sky, 
 Yet, who experiences more woe than I? 
 Why grieve that your terrestrial work is vain? 
 From my life's toil — what despicable gain!" 
 
 „I am the Light! -- On earth night's shadows reign! 
 Freedom am I! — The world bears slavery's chain! 
 Love's fount am I! — Hate doth man's heart control! 
 Lo! I am Truth, yet, Falsehood rules mans soul!" — 
 
 When Luna's mission ends, a zephyrus cloud 
 Her glowing disk celestial doth enshroud, 
 As though to veil emotions struggling there. 
 Behold! — each Phantom vanishes 'mid air. 
 
 Th'eternal moon illumes the vault of night; 
 
 Eternal lamps diffuse expiring light; 
 
 The tomb-stones shine 'neath twilight's flickering ray, 
 
 The rosy East announces glowing day.
 
 .1 w von *."i. 'i ED I 79 
 
 PRESENCE OF THE BELOVED. 
 
 I think of thee, when, o'er the sparkling .sea, 
 
 The rays of Phoebus glide; 
 1 muse on thee, when Luna's brilliancy 
 
 [Humes the silvery tide. 
 
 In foreign deserts, thou my sight dost cheer, 
 
 "When clouds obscure the sky; 
 At midnight, wandering o'er lone mountains drear 
 
 Thy form is hovering nigh. 
 
 Thy voice I hear, amid th'impetuous flood, 
 
 When ocean's billows rise; 
 For thee I list, 'mid forest, bower, and wood, 
 
 When Nature, silent lies. - 
 
 I'm at thy side. — Where'er, on earth, thou roam, 
 
 Thine image glideth near! 
 Eve's sun-beams vanish — stars Illume Heaven's dome: 
 
 Would my Beloved were lure!
 
 480 J. W. von GOETHE. 
 
 LAMENT OF HASSAN AGA'S NOBLE WIFE. 
 
 (IMITATED FROM THE MOORISH.) 
 
 In yon green wood, what shines so purely white? 
 
 Are swans reposing, or doth snow there lie?- — 
 Should it be swans, they soon will take their flight, 
 
 If snow, t'will melt beneath the sunny sky. — 
 No swan — no snow-flake overspreads the ground, 
 
 The tents of Hassan Aga sparkle 'neath the sun! 
 There Hassan lies, disabled by a wound, 
 
 Received amid a victory, bravely won: 
 His mother and his sister 'tend him there, 
 Yet, Hassan's Wife bestows no fostering care. 
 
 No longer that he now despairs of life, 
 
 He sends this message to his faithful Wife: 
 
 „ Henceforward, I demand no aid of thine;" 
 
 „Livc thou, a stranger, — both to me, and mine!" —
 
 J. W. von GOETHE. 481 
 
 The letter, when that Wife doth contemplate, 
 
 Aghast she stands, o'erpowerec| with keen despair; 
 She hears a courser tramping at the gate, 
 
 And thinks her husband Hassan waiteth there: 
 She rushes forth, in Hassan's arms to fly, 
 
 Two beauteous daughters follow, bathed in tears: 
 „Oh Mother! 'tis not Hassan," do they cry, 
 
 „Thy brother, Pintorowich now appears!" 
 
 The Wife of Hassan hastens towards the duor, 
 Her brother she embraces, o'er and o'er: — 
 „The Mother of five babes - - Sister of thine , 
 Thus to repudiate — what a fate is mine!" — 
 
 He nought replies, but, from beneath his vest, 
 
 Withdraws the legal Separation-deed, 
 In silk enclosed, to Hassan's Wife addressed, 
 
 Instructing her, thence to depart, with speed, 
 Unto her mother's house — with liberty 
 To form another matrimonial tie. — 
 
 When, on that fatal note, her glances rest, 
 The Mother kisses her sons' youthful brow; 
 
 A kiss, on each fair daughter's cheek is pressed, 
 And, towards the cradle moves the Parent now. 
 
 What torture feels that warm, maternal heart! 
 
 How, from the slumbering infant, can she part? 
 
 si
 
 482 J- W. von GOETHE. 
 
 Th'impetuous Brother forceth her to part; 
 
 His Sister mounts on his Arabian steed, 
 And, toward their father's palace, swift they dart. 
 
 How does that Mother's heart, with anguish, bleed! — 
 
 Seven lingering days are barely passed away, 
 
 When Hassan's Widow, by grief bowed to earth, 
 
 Again is urged to pledge th'hyineneal vow, 
 By many a Suitor, of illustrious birth. — 
 
 Imoski's Cadi woos the Mourner fair; — 
 
 She hastens towards her Brother, pierced by woe: 
 
 „My Brother! — by the holy Prophet, swear, 
 Thou'lt force me not to pledge a nuptial vow! 
 
 Spare — spare a Mother for her children's sake; 
 
 My children if I see — this heart will break!" — 
 
 Inexorably resolved her Brother proves, 
 
 Her eloquence is vain — in vain her prayer, 
 
 And she exclaims: „If nought thy spirit moves, 
 This letter, to Imoski's Cadi bear: 
 
 „The Widow courteously saluting thee, 
 
 Entreats that thou, a favour wouldst bestow; 
 
 Let thy Suates bear a drapery, 
 
 Whose clustering folds may amply round her flow, 
 
 That, when near Hassan's house, a Mother's eye 
 
 May not behold her orphan family." —
 
 J. W. von goethe. L83 
 
 When o'er the note, the Cadi's eye doth glide, 
 
 He summon eth the brave Suates near, 
 Commissions them to guard his lovely Bride, 
 
 And, from the Bridegroom, a rich veil they bear. — 
 
 Now move the cavalcade noble and gay, 
 And forth conduct the Bride, triumphantly. 
 
 "When Hassan Aga's house the Guards survey, 
 The mournful Princess hears her children cry: 
 
 „Haste to thy palace! Haste! the board is spread! 
 
 Come! — with thy children, eat the evening-bread!" — 
 
 These tones reverberate in her heart's deep core, 
 And, to the Prince she cries, with mournful air: 
 
 „To my loved children, fain would I, once more 
 A token of my love undying bear: 
 
 This boon, deny me not! At Hassan's gate, 
 
 Awhile, command that thy Suates wait!" — 
 
 They halt: — her arms those little ones enfold; 
 Maternal presents the young Princess gives, 
 Each son embroidered sandals, worked with gold, 
 
 Each daughter, robes magnificent receives: 
 A vest — futurity's memento fair, 
 She gives her babe who, cradled, slumbers there. —
 
 484 J- W. von GOETHE. 
 
 This scene views Hassan, from the balcony, 
 And he exclaims with melancholy tone: 
 
 „Return beloved children! Haste to me! 
 
 From you, poor babes! a Mother's love is flown. 
 
 Henceforth, no warm affection will she feel, 
 
 Towards you, her breast will be like ice, or steel!" — 
 
 The words of Hassan rankle in her heart, 
 
 Her cheek is blanched: — how palpitates her breath! 
 
 But when her children from her arms depart, 
 
 She swoons: — that Mother is the prey of death. 
 
 .jo£)@o?.-
 
 JOSEPH CHRISTIAN BARON von ZEDLITZ. 
 
 Joseph Christian, Baron von Zedlitz was bom the 
 28th of February 1790 at the castle of Johannisberg, 
 near Jauernick, in the western part of Silesia. After 
 having pursued his preliminary studies at the College 
 of Breslaw, he entered a Hussar-regiment. In 1809 
 he became lieutenant, and two months later he obtain- 
 ed the rank of first lieutenant, and as ordinance-officer 
 of Prince Hoheuzollern, he took part in the battle of 
 Ratisbone, Aspern, and Wagram, but shortly afterwards, 
 for family reasons, he quitted the military service. 
 
 Since the year 1810 the Baron von Zedlitz has 
 held the office of Chamberlain to H. M. the Emperor 
 of Austria: he was, during a long time, private secre- 
 tary to Prince Metternich. Since 1845 he has been 
 Charge d'affaires to the Duke of Nassau, and, towards 
 the end of the year 1851 he exercised, at the court 
 of Austria, the same functions for the Duke of Brunswick. 
 
 Schiller has remarked: n Der Mensch wachst mit
 
 486 J- C. von ZEDLITZ. 
 
 seinen Zwecken. " f„Man grows with his Designs") We 
 may also with justice say: a man becomes great, or 
 insignificant, according to the circle in which he lives. 
 These words may be applied to the Poet Zedlitz. His 
 poetry is as brilliant as that sphere in which he has 
 moved; there is a measure, even in his sentiments, 
 which are invariably expressed in a language, equally 
 harmonious and pleasing. 
 
 The Baron von Zedlitz' chief Works are: 
 
 TURTURELL. A Tragedy in 5 Acts. Vienna, 1821. 
 
 TWO NIGHTS AT VALADOLID. A Tragedy in 5 Acts. Vienna, 1825. 
 
 LOVE FINDS HIS WAY. A Comedy in 4 Acts. Vienna, 1827. 
 
 THE CROWN OF DEATH. Vienna, 1831. 
 
 POEMS. Stuttgart and Tubingen , 1847. 4th Edition with Portrait and 
 
 Facsimile. 
 THE STAR OF SEVILLE. A Tragedy. Stuttgart , 1834. 
 DRAMATIC WORKS. 4 Volumes. Stuttgart and Tiibingen , 1836. 
 CHTLDE HAROLD. Translated from the English of Lord Byron. In the 
 
 Metre of the Original. Stuttgart, 1836. 
 THE WOOD-NYMPHS. A Fairy-tale. Stuttgart, 1844. 
 THE SOLDIER'S PAMPHLET. Dedicated to the Austrian-Italian Army 
 
 Vienna, 1849.
 
 J. C. von ZEDLITZ. 487 
 
 THE MIDNIGHT REVIEW. 
 
 Lo! — by solemn midnight gloom, 
 
 The Drummer, from sleep, awakes, 
 
 And , arising from the tomb , 
 
 With his drum the rounds he makes. 
 
 On the drum, with his fleshless arm, 
 
 He announces the Review, 
 The Drummer sounds an alarm, 
 
 Rap! rap! — he beats the tattoo. 
 
 What reverberating tone 
 
 From the drum, around is spread! 
 Battalions, from church-yards lone, 
 
 Are awakened from the dead! 
 
 From the northern church-yards drear, 
 Where, in snow and ice, they lie, 
 
 From tombs, in the southern sphere, 
 'Neath a warm, Italian sky.
 
 488 J. C. von ZEDLITZ. 
 
 Warriors that sleep by the Nile, 
 
 And those 'neath Arabian sand, 
 
 Arising, stand rank and file, 
 
 And they grasp their sword in hand. 
 
 Ere twelve at night is past, 
 
 From his tomb the Trumpeter glides, 
 How piercing and shrill the blast, 
 
 As to and fro, he rides! 
 
 See! — on chargers, proud and gay, 
 
 The cavalry-troops appear; 
 The squadrons, in war's array, 
 
 Bear ensanguined sword, and spear. 
 
 The ghastly skulls, bleached snow-white, 
 'Neath their brilliant helmets, glare, 
 
 'Neath the pale and hazy moon-light, 
 
 They brandish their weapons there! — 
 
 Twelve striketh: — prophetic sound! 
 
 The Commander quits his grave; 
 He slowly rides o'er the ground, 
 
 With his Staff — sons of the brave.
 
 J. C. von ZEDLITZ. 489 
 
 What a small, strange hat he weareth! 
 
 His vesture bespeaks not pride; 
 The august Commander beareth 
 
 A two-edg'd sword, by his side! 
 
 The moon's pale, nebulous rays 
 Illume the extensive plain; 
 
 The Commander-in-chief surveys 
 The assembled, martial train. 
 
 The regiments march, rank and file, 
 Present arms, stand in review, 
 
 And, by the music's sound, awhile, 
 He rides 'mid his followers true. 
 
 Marshals and generals near 
 
 Their Commander flock around; 
 And he whispereth in the ear 
 Of one, a mysterious sound. — 
 
 ^France!" — the soul-thrilling Password, 
 From cohort to cohort flies. — 
 
 „Saint Helena!" — vibrating is heard, 
 „St. Helena!" — Echo replies. —
 
 490 J- C. von ZEDLITZ. 
 
 When the hour of midnight tolls 
 On the wide Elysian plain, 
 
 That Review, mighty Caesar holds 
 With his valiant, martial train!
 
 J. C. von ZEDLITZ. 491 
 
 THE PHANTOM SHIP. 
 
 O'er billows impetuous grey mists arise, 
 
 Each star has withdrawn its ray; 
 A pennon, 'mid night-winds tempestuous flies, 
 
 On a Ship that darts o'er the spray: 
 That Vessel is steered by a Phantom's hand, 
 
 Midst hurricane fierce, and stonn; 
 She braveth each tempest — each rocky strand; 
 
 In that Ship lives no human form. — 
 
 Afar, where each billow, in silence, lies, 
 
 A lonesome Island is found; 
 There, a rock, toward the Heavens, doth proudly rise, 
 
 That rock circling clouds surround. 
 There springcth no grass — no tree grows there, 
 
 No bird doth her offspring rear, 
 The eagle alone, as he roves through air, 
 
 Surveyeth that region drear. —
 
 492 J. C. von ZEDLITZ. 
 
 Around the King's tomb, on the dreary Isle, 
 
 Loud whirlwinds impetuous fly; 
 Sword, helmet, and sceptre of gold, awhile, 
 
 On the Monarch's coffin lie. 
 No mortal there dwells: the world's rushing wave, 
 
 On his wearied ear, sounds not; 
 No tear of affection bedews the grave 
 
 Of the Sleeper on that chill spot. 
 
 Moons change in the Heavens; — as years glide away, 
 
 The Dead, immoveably lies; 
 Yet, annually, on the Fifth of May, 
 
 The Shade doth awaken, and rise! 
 The Spirit that Night, impatient of rest, 
 
 Through terrestrial regions doth stray: — 
 On that Night, — of vitality possessed, 
 
 'Mid earth he directs his way. — 
 
 Near that Isle is a Ship, winds swell each sail, 
 
 For distant realms is she bound; 
 A Pennon there hovers amid the gale, 
 
 Golden Bees on a snow-white ground. — 
 On board, the lone Monarch repairs, in haste, 
 
 With an eagle's impetuous speed, 
 No helm guides the Ship o'er the dreary waste, 
 
 No pilot that Ship doth lead! —
 
 J. C. von ZEDLITZ. 403 
 
 The Shade of the Monarch is there alone, 
 
 His eye pierces through mists of night; 
 How heaveth his breast with a heart-felt moan! 
 
 His eye darts consuming light. 
 The Ship steers on — on towards the well-known strain I; 
 
 Rejoiced, his arm he extends, 
 With soul enraptured, he views his land, 
 
 O'er his Land his glance he bends. — 
 
 The King leaves the Ship, and his foot doth rest 
 
 On that loved, that sunny shore; 
 How trembles the earth, as glides o'er her breast, 
 
 That Star whose light is veiled o'er! — 
 He seeketh his City: — 'tis vanished now, 
 
 His People he seeketh in vain ; 
 When the sun-beams of Glory circled his brow, 
 
 They flocked round him like waves of the main ! 
 
 He seeketh his Throne; — in dust is it hurled, — 
 
 That Throne which aspired so high; 
 That Throne from which he surveyed the world, 
 
 At his feet, as a footstool lie! — 
 The King seeks his heart's best treasure — his Child, 
 
 Whose Heritage was a throne; — 
 That Birthright was scattered by tempests wild, 
 
 Where, now, is the Monarch's Son? —
 
 494 J. C. von ZEDLITZ. 
 
 „Where art thou, oh Child! who, in infancy, 
 
 With coronets used to play? — 
 On his breast, as a Parent fondled thee, 
 
 Bliss terrestrial passed away! 
 Oh, my cherished Wife! — Oh, ray offspring dear! 
 
 Extinct is the Sovereign's race! 
 On the regal throne doth a menial appear, 
 
 And the King has a menial's place!"
 
 J. C. von ZEDLITZ. 495 
 
 THE WORDS OF THE KORAN. 
 
 Hassan, the grand-son of the Prophet falls 
 
 Upon his knee; his hands are clasped in prayer: 
 
 He rises from the carpet; toward the halls 
 Of festive joy the Emir doth repair. — 
 
 A slave conveys rich viands to his lord; 
 
 As, with unskillful hand, he lowly bends, 
 Lo! — that ragout, borne from the princely board, 
 
 Upon the Emir's silken vest descends. — 
 
 The slave, before the Emir, prostrate lies, 
 And thus exclaims with agony of soul: 
 
 „Emir! — th' eternal joys of Paradise 
 
 Will those possess who passions fierce control." 
 
 „Thee I reproach not!" with benignant voice, 
 
 Replyeth Hassan: — thus proceeds the slave: 
 
 „In richer gifts of Heaven will those rejoice 
 
 Who pardon grant when suppliants pardon crave ! " —
 
 496 J. C. von ZEDLITZ. 
 
 „Thou'rt pardoned!" — Hassan cries, in soothing tone, 
 The slave replies: — „In that same Law, we read: — 
 
 They shall inherit Heaven's most lofty throne, 
 
 Who pay th'ignoble — with a noble deed!" — 
 
 „To thee, henceforward, Freedom I accord! 
 
 Receive this gold. — Ne'er be it Hassan's fate , 
 God's hallowed statutes, or the Prophet's word, 
 
 To disregard, offend, or violate!"
 
 • i v., SCHILLER ]«.«7 
 
 DIGNITY OF WOMAN. 
 
 Give honour to Woman! — she planteth, and twineth, 
 Celestial roses on earth, and combLletb 
 
 Love's sacred joys, in a flowery band: 
 'Neath the veil of the Graces, Woman rewardeth 
 Th'achievements of honour, and Woman's hand guardeth, 
 
 Virtue's pure flame, with a vigilant hand. 
 
 Par from Truth's all-sacred dwelling, 
 
 Man's impetuous soul would flee 
 In his spirit wild an 1 swelling 
 
 Tides that rush from passions' sea 
 Ever towards the distant moving, 
 
 Never is Man's bosom still. 
 E'en to stars remote is roving 
 
 Man's lingoverhable will
 
 498 J, C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 The charm in the glance of mild Woman enchains him, 
 Allures the wild Fugitive, soothes and detains him, 
 
 Paths of reality points to his view ; 
 A mother's affection a veil hath spread round her, 
 When reared in simplicity, Man has e'er found her, 
 
 The Daughter of Nature, angelic and true. 
 
 Warfare gory Man is waging, 
 
 With destructive hand he moves, 
 E'er in contest new engaging, 
 
 As, o'er life's wide stage, he roves. 
 Peaceful ne'er his heart is lying, 
 
 What he forms is quickly dead, - 
 Alive again! — Again is dying, 
 
 Ever, as the Hydra's head! 
 
 In circles restricted fair Woman e'er lingers, 
 
 She culls the bright flowers that there blossom : her fingers 
 
 Twine perfumed wreaths that to Home e'er belong. 
 Ah! Woman is free, in her tranquil dominion, 
 And richer than Man, though may dart his swift pinion 
 
 Through realms scientific, and regions of song.
 
 3. C. F. von SCHIIJiEB i99 
 
 Proud of Bpirit, self-depending, 
 
 Man's c >1<1 bosom fails to pr< 
 That calm bliss of hearts, when blendin 
 
 in celestial ties of love. 
 
 Gentle interchange of feeling 
 
 Ne'er exciting trembling tears; 
 
 'Mid life's war, is Man revealing 
 
 Soul more stem , with rip ; ears 
 
 The wind-harp, to zephyrs, is tremblingly sighing, 
 The zephyr balsamic is sweetly replying; 
 
 Woman! — these tones are like accents of thine. 
 Thui Woman responds, when pale Grief is appealin; . 
 
 When Sorrow implores, in her bright eye is stealing 
 The tear, as a brilliant dew-drop divine. 
 
 Fond of war, though born to labour. 
 
 Power despotic Man would crave, 
 Scythians govern by the sabre, 
 
 And the Persian is their slave. 
 Combat dread are passions waging, 
 
 Struggling in confused ar 
 Discord's prowling troop is raging 
 
 Where the Graces, once, held sway
 
 500 J. C. F. von SCHILLER. 
 
 Fair Woman with tenderness, urgeth, and prayeth, 
 The sceptre of Virtue has charms, when she swayeth, 
 
 Calming the soul, when fierce passions rebel. 
 By Woman's sweet influence foes are united, 
 In bonds of affection and peace, and invited, 
 
 In Friendship's harmonious compact to dwell. 
 
 THE E.\!>
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 KLOPSTOCK. 
 
 Lifo of Klopstock 
 
 List of Klopstock'e Works 
 
 To Ebcrt 
 
 To Funny 
 
 Hermann and Thusneldii 
 
 The rosy Band 
 
 SCHILLER. 
 
 Life of Schiller 
 
 List of Schiller's Works 
 
 Tlie Maiden from afar 
 
 The Lament of Ceres 
 
 The Dance 
 
 Mystery 
 
 The Favourite of the Gods 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 Life of Goethe 
 
 List of Goethe's Works 
 
 Dedication 
 
 Apology 
 
 To the Benevolent 
 
 The new Amadis 
 
 Stirbt der Fuuhs , so gilt der Balg 
 
 The Wood-rose 
 
 Blind-man's Bud 
 
 Christina 
 
 The Prude 
 
 The Convert 
 
 Page. 
 
 HOLTY. 
 
 Life of Holty 
 
 Lis! ■ I Holly's Works 
 Adelstan and Rosa 
 
 The old Peasant's Advice I ' 
 
 Son 
 Elegy on a Country-maiden 
 A Winter-song 
 The Grave-digger's Song 
 
 SCHILLER. 
 
 Genius 
 
 BURGER. 
 Life of Burger 
 
 Li i ol Bttl i i' Works 
 The Wives of Weinsberg 
 
 Count Charles of Eichenhorst and 
 
 Gertrude of Hoehlmrg 
 The Emperor and the Abbot 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 The Son ol thi 
 
 The Flower of the Forest 
 
 Preservation from Death 
 
 DHL AND. 
 
 Life Of I'Uand. 
 
 List of Dhland's Works 
 
 The Pilgrim 
 
 The King 
 
 Tho young King and the .- 
 
 herdess 
 Harald 
 The rosy Gal laud 
 
 103 
 
 no 
 
 lit 
 
 126 
 140 
 
 Ml 
 
 115 
 
 I 
 
 166 
 168 
 170 
 
 178 
 
 17 
 
 176 
 
 l*i 
 
 188 
 
 198
 
 502 
 
 CONTE 
 
 NTS. 
 
 SCHILLER. 
 
 Page. 
 
 SCHILLER. 
 
 The Words of Faith 
 
 202 
 
 The Hostage 
 
 The Partition of the Earth 
 
 204 
 
 H. MARGGRA 
 
 Columbus 
 
 206 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 207 
 
 Life of Marggraff 
 
 HEINE. 
 
 Life of Heine 208 
 
 List of Heine's Works 212 
 
 Count Olaf 213 
 
 To my Beloved 218 
 
 Catharina 219 
 
 Bertrand de Born 220 
 
 The young Queen 221 
 
 The Water-Sprites 222 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 Self-deception 224 
 
 Declaration of War 225 
 
 Sympathetic Companions 227 
 
 Alternate Songs for the Dance 227 
 
 MAURER. 
 
 Life of Miiurer 229 
 
 List of Miiurer's Works 235 
 
 Morning 236 
 
 Farewell 237 
 Extract from the „World's Drama" 238 
 
 The Rock of the seven Sisters 240 
 
 Song of the amourous Pilgrim 242 
 
 The Past and the Present 243 
 
 The Nemesis of History 245 
 
 Souvenirs 247 
 
 Autumn 249 
 
 Popularity 250 
 
 Wisdom 250 
 
 Benefits 250 
 
 Affinity 250 
 
 Type 251 
 
 Immortality of Lifi 251 
 
 Unsympathetic Companions 251 
 
 List of MarggrafTs Works 
 
 Butterflies 
 
 Klaus Stortebecker 
 
 The Queen of Ganore 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 The Lover under many Forms 
 The Goldsmith's Companion 
 Answers on Conversation-cards 
 
 PRUTZ. 
 
 Life of Prutz 
 
 List of Prutz' Works 
 
 Algiers 
 
 The Mother of the Cossacks 
 
 Brittany 
 
 SCHILLER. 
 
 Evening 
 The Ideal 
 
 Page. 
 
 250 
 204 
 265 
 268 
 
 287 
 
 293 
 296 
 
 300 
 303 
 
 804 
 
 822 
 
 323 
 
 LEWIS L, KING OF BAVARIA. 
 
 Life of H. M. Lewis , King of Bavn- 
 
 na ■»■•• 
 
 List of Works 329 
 
 To my Daughter Matilda 330 
 
 The Nun of Himmelspforten 331 
 
 The Monk of Oberzell 833 
 
 John of Prosida 838 
 
 The weeping Kock 338 
 
 The Mountain of Untersberg 841 
 
 Sappho 314 
 
 Life S47 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 Mignou -- 
 
 The Erl-king 351 
 
 The Minstrel 853
 
 I ONTENTS 
 
 
 FREILIGRATH. 
 Froiligratb 
 List of Freiligrath's Works 
 The Hunting-ground of the Lion 
 
 i in tlio Bea 
 
 age of the Flowers 
 
 SCHILLER. 
 Flowers 
 The Knight of Toggenbnrg! 
 
 RUCKERT. 
 
 Life of Rttel 
 
 : RUckert's Works 
 Barbarossa 
 
 The Favourite of the Moorish King 
 The golden Nuptials 
 The Hunter of the Alps 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 The first Night of Walpurgis 
 
 BALIS. 
 
 Lifi oi r. Salis 
 
 List of v. Salis' Works 
 
 Morning 
 
 Evening 
 
 The Fisherman's Song 
 
 SCHILLER. 
 Che Festival of Victory 
 
 DINGELSTEDT. 
 Life of Dingelstedt 
 
 List of Dingelstedt's Works 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 The 1 
 
 
 300 
 901 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 
 1 i iptive Conn t 
 
 ■in 
 
 369 
 
 PLATEN. 
 
 
 
 Life of Platen 
 
 446 
 
 874 
 
 List ol Platen's Works 
 
 450 
 
 Zohir 
 
 451 
 
 382 
 383 
 389 
 390 
 396 
 
 406 
 410 
 411 
 413 
 415 
 418 
 
 Tin- Pilgrim before the Monaste 
 of St. Justus 
 
 Jpirit of Colnml 
 
 SCHILLER. 
 The Cranes of Ibycus 
 
 ANASTASITJS GRON. 
 Life of Grrun 
 List of GrUn's Works 
 The Unknown 
 The T.::irs of Man 
 Midnight Scene at a Cloister 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 The Wife of llassan-Aga 
 
 ZEDLITZ. 
 
 Life of Zedlitz 
 
 List of Zedlitz' Works 
 
 The midnight Review 
 
 The Phantom Ship 
 
 The Words of the Korau 
 
 SCHILLER. 
 i D e i> nit; of Woman 
 
 455 
 467 
 
 460 
 47o 
 471 
 474 
 476 
 
 485 
 486 
 
 487 
 r.'i 
 495
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 nge 6 
 
 Line 15 
 
 for 1754 re 
 
 ad 175! 
 
 6 
 
 - 22 
 
 • tho 
 
 he. 
 
 35 
 
 4 
 
 - 1735 
 
 1785, 
 
 36 
 
 - 25 
 
 - esteemed 
 
 esteemed, 
 
 54 
 
 - 16 
 
 - tones 
 
 tones. 
 
 91 
 
 4 
 
 - even 
 
 even. 
 
 - 115 
 
 - 16 
 
 - roved 
 
 rove. 
 
 - 130 
 
 - 25 
 
 - a as 
 
 as. 
 
 - 136 
 
 11 
 
 - the-style 
 
 the style. 
 
 • 136 
 
 - 23 
 
 - naivety 
 
 naivete". 
 
 141 
 
 2 
 
 - magination 
 
 imagination 
 
 143 
 
 3 
 
 - yeisterday 
 
 yesterday. 
 
 • 144 
 
 - 17 
 
 - hymenial 
 
 hymeneal. 
 
 - 173 
 
 18 
 
 - 1841 
 
 1814. 
 
 - 175 
 
 4 
 
 - resides 
 
 resides. 
 
 - 175 
 
 15 
 
 - hystory 
 
 history. 
 
 - 238 
 
 21 
 
 - n'er 
 
 ne'er. 
 
 - 251 
 
 - 14 
 
 - unite 
 
 ally. 
 
 • 252 
 
 - 13 
 
 - hymenial 
 
 hymeneal. 
 
 - 253 
 
 2 
 
 - ao 
 
 do. 
 
 - 255 
 
 7 
 
 - ereaches 
 
 reaches. 
 
 - 280 
 
 - 10 
 
 - carcases 
 
 carcass. 
 
 ■ 297 
 
 9 
 
 - the 
 
 thee. 
 
 - 313 
 
 9 
 
 - move' 
 
 move. 
 
 420 
 
 15 
 
 - Palas 
 
 Pallas. 
 
 - 427 
 
 - 18 
 
 - Leitzer 
 
 Lutzer. 
 
 427 
 
 - 21 
 
 - Count 
 
 court. 
 
 - 428 
 
 8 
 
 - Piece 
 
 Piece is.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 :;."'■ 
 
 1951. 
 
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 W 1 9 1964 
 
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