Poems List

Three Palinodias - 03 Rain And Rainbow

DURING a heavy storm it chanced
That from his room a cockney glanced
At the fierce tempest as it broke,
While to his neighbour thus he spoke:
"The thunder has our awe inspired,
Our barns by lightning have been fired,--
Our sins to punish, I suppose;
But in return, to soothe our woes,
See how the rain in torrents fell,
Making the harvest promise well!
But it's a rainbow that I spy
Extending o'er the dark-grey sky?
With it I'm sure we may dispense,
The colour'd cheat! The vain pretence!"
Dame Iris straightway thus replied:
"Dost dare my beauty to deride?
In realms of space God station'd me
A type of better worlds to be
To eyes that from life's sorrows rove
In cheerful hope to Heav'n above,
And, through the mists that hover here
God and his precepts blest revere.
Do thou, then, grovel like the swine,
And to the ground thy snout confine,
But suffer the enlighten'd eye
To feast upon my majesty."

To Charlotte

'MIDST the noise of merriment and glee,

'Midst full many a sorrow, many a care,
Charlotte, I remember, we remember thee,
How, at evening's hour so fair,

Thou a kindly hand didst reach us,
When thou, in some happy place
Where more fair is Nature s face,
Many a lightly-hidden trace


Of a spirit loved didst teach us.
Well 'tis that thy worth I rightly knew,--
That I, in the hour when first we met,
While the first impression fill'd me yet,


Call'd thee then a girl both good and true.
Rear'd in silence, calmly, knowing nought,
On the world we suddenly are thrown;


Hundred thousand billows round us sport;


All things charm us--many please alone,
Many grieve us, and as hour on hour is stealing,
To and fro our restless natures sway;


First we feel, and then we find each feeling
By the changeful world-stream borne away.
Well I know, we oft within us find
Many a hope and many a smart.


Charlotte, who can know our mind?


Charlotte, who can know our heart?
Ah! 'twould fain be understood, 'twould fain o'erflow
In some creature's fellow-feelings blest,


And, with trust, in twofold measure know
All the grief and joy in Nature's breast.
Then thine eye is oft around thee cast,
But in vain, for all seems closed for ever.

Thus the fairest part of life is madly pass'd


Free from storm, but resting never:

To thy sorrow thou'rt to-day repell'd
By what yesterday obey'd thee.
Can that world by thee be worthy held

Which so oft betray'd thee?
Which, 'mid all thy pleasures and thy pains,
Lived in selfish, unconcern'd repose?


See, the soul its secret cells regains,


And the heart--makes haste to close.
Thus found I thee, and gladly went to meet thee;
"She's worthy of all love!" I cried,


And pray'd that Heaven with purest bliss might greet thee,
Which in thy friend it richly hath supplied.

Three Palinodias - 01

"Incense is hut a tribute for the gods,--
To mortals 'tis but poison."

THE smoke that from thine altar blows,
Can it the gods offend?
For I observe thou hold'st thy nose--


Pray what does this portend?


Mankind deem incense to excel
Each other earthly thing,
So he that cannot bear its smell,


No incense e'er should bring.
With unmoved face by thee at least
To dolls is homage given;


If not obstructed by the priest,
The scent mounts up to heaven.

Thoughts On Jesus Christ's Decent Into Hell

WHAT wondrous noise is heard around!
Through heaven exulting voices sound,


A mighty army marches on
By thousand millions follow'd, lo,
To yon dark place makes haste to go


God's Son, descending from His throne!
He goes--the tempests round Him break,


As Judge and Hero cometh He;
He goes--the constellations quake,
The sun, the world quake fearfully.


I see Him in His victor-car,
On fiery axles borne afar,


Who on the cross for us expired.
The triumph to yon realms He shows,--
Remote from earth, where star ne'er glows,


The triumph He for us acquired.
He cometh, Hell to extirpate,


Whom He, by dying, wellnigh kill'd;
He shall pronounce her fearful fate
Hark! now the curse is straight fulfill'd.


Hell sees the victor come at last,
She feels that now her reign is past,


She quakes and fears to meet His sight;
She knows His thunders' terrors dread,
In vain she seeks to hide her head,


Attempts to fly, but vain is flight;
Vainly she hastes to 'scape pursuit


And to avoid her Judge's eye;
The Lord's fierce wrath restrains her foot
Like brazen chains,--she cannot fly.


Here lies the Dragon, trampled down,
He lies, and feels God's angry frown,


He feels, and grinneth hideously;
He feels Hell's speechless agonies,
A thousand times he howls and sighs:


"Oh, burning flames! quick, swallow me!"
There lies he in the fiery waves,



By torments rack'd and pangs infernal,
Instant annihilation craves,
And hears, those pangs will be eternal.


Those mighty squadrons, too, are here,
The partners of his cursed career,


Yet far less bad than he were they.
Here lies the countless throng combined,
In black and fearful crowds entwined,


While round him fiery tempests play;
He sees how they the Judge avoid,


He sees the storm upon them feed,
Yet is not at the sight o'erjoy'd,
Because his pangs e'en theirs exceed.


The Son of Man in triumph passes
Down to Hell's wild and black morasses,


And there unfolds His majesty.
Hell cannot bear the bright array,
For, since her first created day.


Darkness alone e'er govern'd she.
She lay remote from ev'ry light


With torments fill'd in Chaos here;
God turn'd for ever from her sight
His radiant features' glory clear.


Within the realms she calls her own,
She sees the splendour of the Son,


His dreaded glories shining forth;
She sees Him clad in rolling thunder,
She sees the rocks all quake with wonder,


When God before her stands in wrath.
She sees He comes her Judge to be,


She feels the awful pangs inside her,
Herself to slay endeavours she,
But e'en this comfort is denied her.


Now looks she back, with pains untold,
Upon those happy times of old,


When those glories gave her joy;
When yet her heart revered the truth,
When her glad soul, in endless youth



And rapture dwelt, without alloy.
She calls to mind with madden'd thought


How over man her wiles prevail'd;
To take revenge on God she sought,
And feels the vengeance it entail'd.


God was made man, and came to earth.
Then Satan cried with fearful mirth:


"E'en He my victim now shall be!"
He sought to slay the Lord Most High,
The world's Creator now must die;


But, Satan, endless woe to thee!
Thou thought'st to overcome Him then,


Rejoicing in His suffering;
But he in triumph comes again
To bind thee: Death! where is thy sting?


Speak, Hell! where is thy victory?
Thy power destroy'd and scatter'd see!


Know'st thou not now the Highest's might?
See, Satan, see thy rule o'erthrown!


By thousand-varying pangs weigh'd down,
Thou dwell'st in dark and endless night.


As though by lightning struck thou liest,
No gleam of rapture far or wide;


In vain! no hope thou there decriest,--
For me alone Messiah died!


A howling rises through the air,
A trembling fills each dark vault there,


When Christ to Hell is seen to come.
She snarls with rage, but needs must cower
Before our mighty hero's power;


He signs--and Hell is straightway dumb.
Before his voice the thunders break,


On high His victor-banner blows;
E'en angels at His fury quake,
When Christ to the dread judgment goes.


Now speaks He, and His voice is thunder,



He speaks, the rocks are rent in sunder,


His breath is like devouring flames.
Thus speaks He: "Tremble, ye accurs'd!
He who from Eden hurl'd you erst,


Your kingdom's overthrow proclaims.
Look up! My children once were ye,


Your arms against Me then ye turn'd,
Ye fell, that ye might sinners be,
Ye've now the wages that ye earn'd.


"My greatest foeman from that day,
Ye led my dearest friends astray,--


As ye had fallen, man must fall.
To kill him evermore ye sought,
'They all shall die the death,' ye thought;


But howl! for Me I won them all.
For them alone did I descend,


For them pray'd, suffer'd, perish'd I.
Ye ne'er shall gain your wicked end;
Who trusts in Me shall never die.


"In endless chains here lie ye now,
Nothing can save you from the slough.


Not boldness, not regret for crime.
Lie, then, and writhe in brimstone fire!
'Twas ye yourselves drew down Mine ire,


Lie and lament throughout all time!
And also ye, whom I selected,


E'en ye forever I disown,
For ye My saving grace rejected
Ye murmur? blame yourselves alone!


"Ye might have lived with Me in bliss,
For I of yore had promis'd this;


Ye sinn'd, and all My precepts slighted
Wrapp'd in the sleep of sin ye dwelt,
Now is My fearful judgment felt,


By a just doom your guilt requited."--
Thus spake He, and a fearful storm


From Him proceeds, the lightnings glow,



The thunders seize each wicked form,
And hurl them in the gulf below.


The God-man closeth Hell's sad doors,
In all His majesty He soars


From those dark regions back to light.
He sitteth at the Father's side;
Oh, friends, what joy doth this betide!


For us, for us He still will fight!
The angels sacred quire around


Rejoice before the mighty Lord,
So that all creatures hear the sound:
"Zebaoth's God be aye ador'd!"

The Yelpers

OUR rides in all directions bend,

For business or for pleasure,
Yet yelpings on our steps attend,
And barkings without measure.


The dog that in our stable dwells,


After our heels is striding,
And all the while his noisy yells
But show that we are riding.

The Wedding Night

WITHIN the chamber, far away

From the glad feast, sits Love in dread
Lest guests disturb, in wanton play,
The silence of the bridal bed.


His torch's pale flame serves to gild


The scene with mystic sacred glow;
The room with incense-clouds is fil'd,
That ye may perfect rapture know.
How beats thy heart, when thou dost hear
The chime that warns thy guests to fly!


How glow'st thou for those lips so dear,


That soon are mute, and nought deny!
With her into the holy place
Thou hast'nest then, to perfect all;


The fire the warder's hands embrace,
Grows, like a night-light, dim and small.
How heaves her bosom, and how burns
Her face at every fervent kiss!


Her coldness now to trembling turns,


Thy daring now a duty is.
Love helps thee to undress her fast,
But thou art twice as fast as he;


And then he shuts both eye at last,
With sly and roguish modesty.

The Way To Behave

THOUGH tempers are bad and peevish folks swear,
Remember to ruffle thy brows, friend, ne'er;
And let not the fancies of women so fair
E'er serve thy pleasure in life to impair.

The Wanderer's Storm-Song

He whom thou ne'er leavest, Genius,
Feels no dread within his heart
At the tempest or the rain.
He whom thou ne'er leavest, Genius,
Will to the rain-clouds,
Will to the hailstorm,
Sing in reply
As the lark sings,
Oh thou on high!


Him whom thou ne'er leavest, Genius,
Thou wilt raise above the mud-track
With thy fiery pinions.
He will wander,
As, with flowery feet,
Over Deucalion's dark flood,
Python-slaying, light, glorious,
Pythius Apollo.


Him whom thou ne'er leavest, Genius,
Thou wilt place upon thy fleecy pinion
When he sleepeth on the rock,--
Thou wilt shelter with thy guardian wing
In the forest's midnight hour.


Him whom thou ne'er leavest, Genius,
Thou wilt wrap up warmly
In the snow-drift;
Tow'rd the warmth approach the Muses,
Tow'rd the warmth approach the Graces.


Ye Muses, hover round me!
Ye Graces also!
That is water, that is earth,
And the son of water and of earth
Over which I wander,
Like the gods.


Ye are pure, like the heart of the water,
Ye are pure like the marrow of earth,
Hov'ring round me, while I hover
Over water, o'er the earth
Like the gods.


Shall he, then, return,
The small, the dark, the fiery peasant?
Shall he, then, return, waiting
Only thy gifts, oh Father Bromius,
And brightly gleaming, warmth-spreading fire?
Return with joy?
And I, whom ye attended,
Ye Muses and ye Graces,



Whom all awaits that ye,
Ye Muses and ye Graces,
Of circling bliss in life
Have glorified--shall I
Return dejected?


Father Bromius!
Thourt the Genius,
Genius of ages,
Thou'rt what inward glow
To Pindar was,
What to the world
Phoebus Apollo.


Woe! Woe Inward warmth,
Spirit-warmth,
Central-point!
Glow, and vie with
Phoebus Apollo!
Coldly soon
His regal look
Over thee will swiftly glide,-


Envy-struck
Linger o'er the cedar's strength,
Which, to flourish,
Waits him not.


Why doth my lay name thee the last?
Thee, from whom it began,
Thee, in whom it endeth,
Thee, from whom it flows,
Jupiter Pluvius!
Tow'rd thee streams my song.
And a Castalian spring
Runs as a fellow-brook,
Runs to the idle ones,
Mortal, happy ones,
Apart from thee,
Who cov'rest me around,
Jupiter Pluvius!


Not by the elm-tree
Him didst thou visit,
With the pair of doves
Held in his gentle arm,--
With the beauteous garland of roses,--
Caressing him, so blest in his flowers,
Anacreon,
Storm-breathing godhead!
Not in the poplar grove,
Near the Sybaris' strand,



Not on the mountain's
Sun-illumined brow
Didst thou seize him,
The flower-singing,
Honey-breathing,
Sweetly nodding
Theocritus.


When the wheels were rattling,
Wheel on wheel tow'rd the goal,
High arose
The sound of the lash
Of youths with victory glowing,
In the dust rolling,
As from the mountain fall
Showers of stones in the vale--
Then thy soul was brightly glowing, Pindar--
Glowing? Poor heart!


There, on the hill,--
Heavenly might!
But enough glow
Thither to wend,
Where is my cot!

The Wanderer

WANDERER.

YOUNG woman, may God bless thee,
Thee, and the sucking infant
Upon thy breast!
Let me, 'gainst this rocky wall,
Neath the elm-tree's shadow,
Lay aside my burden,
Near thee take my rest.


WOMAN.


What vocation leads thee,
While the day is burning,
Up this dusty path?
Bring'st thou goods from out the town
Round the country?
Smil'st thou, stranger,
At my question?


WANDERER.


From the town no goods I bring.
Cool is now the evening;
Show to me the fountain
'Whence thou drinkest,
Woman young and kind!


WOMAN.


Up the rocky pathway mount;
Go thou first! Across the thicket
Leads the pathway tow'rd the cottage
That I live in,
To the fountain
Whence I drink.


WANDERER.


Signs of man's arranging hand
See I 'mid the trees!
Not by thee these stones were join'd,
Nature, who so freely scatterest!


WOMAN.


Up, still up!


WANDERER.


Lo, a mossy architrave is here!
I discern thee, fashioning spirit!



On the stone thou hast impress'd thy seal.
WOMAN.
Onward, stranger!
WANDERER.
Over an inscription am I treading!


'Tis effaced!
Ye are seen no longer,
Words so deeply graven,
Who your master's true devotion
Should have shown to thousand grandsons!


WOMAN.
At these stones, why
Start'st thou, stranger?


Many stones are lying yonder
Round my cottage.
WANDERER.
Yonder?
WOMAN.
Through the thicket,


Turning to the left,
Here!
WANDERER.
Ye Muses and ye Graces!
WOMAN.
This, then, is my cottage.
WANDERER.
'Tis a ruin'd temple!


WOMAN.
Just below it, see,
Springs the fountain
Whence I drink.


WANDERER.



Thou dost hover
O'er thy grave, all glowing,
Genius! while upon thee
Hath thy master-piece
Fallen crumbling,
Thou Immortal One!


WOMAN.


Stay, a cup I'll fetch thee
Whence to drink.


WANDERER.


Ivy circles thy slender
Form so graceful and godlike.
How ye rise on high
From the ruins,
Column-pair
And thou, their lonely sister yonder,--
How thou,
Dusky moss upon thy sacred head,--
Lookest down in mournful majesty
On thy brethren's figures
Lying scatter'd
At thy feet!
In the shadow of the bramble
Earth and rubbish veil them,
Lofty grass is waving o'er them
Is it thus thou, Nature, prizest
Thy great masterpiece's masterpiece?
Carelessly destroyest thou
Thine own sanctuary,
Sowing thistles there?


WOMAN.


How the infant sleeps!
Wilt thou rest thee in the cottage,
Stranger? Wouldst thou rather
In the open air still linger?
Now 'tis cool! take thou the child
While I go and draw some water.
Sleep on, darling! sleep!


WANDERER.


Sweet is thy repose!
How, with heaven-born health imbued,
Peacefully he slumbers!
Oh thou, born among the ruins
Spread by great antiquity,



On thee rest her spirit!
He whom it encircles
Will, in godlike consciousness,
Ev'ry day enjoy.
Full, of germ, unfold,
As the smiling springtime's
Fairest charm,
Outshining all thy fellows!
And when the blossom's husk is faded,
May the full fruit shoot forth
From out thy breast,
And ripen in the sunshine!


WOMAN.


God bless him!--Is he sleeping still?
To the fresh draught I nought can add,
Saving a crust of bread for thee to eat.


WANDERER.


I thank thee well.
How fair the verdure all around!
How green!


WOMAN.


My husband soon
Will home return
From labour. Tarry, tarry, man,
And with us eat our evening meal.


WANDERER.


Is't here ye dwell?


WOMAN.


Yonder, within those walls we live.
My father 'twas who built the cottage
Of tiles and stones from out the ruins.
'Tis here we dwell.
He gave me to a husbandman,
And in our arms expired.--
Hast thou been sleeping, dearest heart
How lively, and how full of play!
Sweet rogue!


WANDERER.


Nature, thou ever budding one,
Thou formest each for life's enjoyments,



And, like a mother, all thy children dear,
Blessest with that sweet heritage,--a home
The swallow builds the cornice round,
Unconscious of the beauties
She plasters up.
The caterpillar spins around the bough,
To make her brood a winter house;
And thou dost patch, between antiquity's
Most glorious relics,
For thy mean use,
Oh man, a humble cot,--
Enjoyest e'en mid tombs!--
Farewell, thou happy woman!


WOMAN.


Thou wilt not stay, then?


WANDERER.


May God preserve thee,
And bless thy boy!


WOMAN.


A happy journey!


WANDERER.


Whither conducts the path
Across yon hill?


WOMAN.


To Cuma.


WANDERER.


How far from hence?


WOMAN.


'Tis full three miles.


WANDERER.


Farewell!
Oh Nature, guide me on my way!
The wandering stranger guide,
Who o'er the tombs
Of holy bygone times
Is passing,



To a kind sheltering place,
From North winds safe,
And where a poplar grove
Shuts out the noontide ray!
And when I come
Home to my cot
At evening,
Illumined by the setting sun,
Let me embrace a wife like this,
Her infant in her arms!

The Visit

FAIN had I to-day surprised my mistress,
But soon found I that her door was fasten'd.
Yet I had the key safe in my pocket,
And the darling door I open'd softly!
In the parlour found I not the maiden,
Found the maiden not within her closet,
Then her chamber-door I gently open'd,
When I found her wrapp'd in pleasing slumbers,
Fully dress'd, and lying on the sofa.


While at work had slumber stolen o'er her;
For her knitting and her needle found I
Resting in her folded bands so tender;
And I placed myself beside her softly,
And held counsel, whether I should wake her.


Then I looked upon the beauteous quiet
That on her sweet eyelids was reposing
On her lips was silent truth depicted,
On her cheeks had loveliness its dwelling,
And the pureness of a heart unsullied
In her bosom evermore was heaving.
All her limbs were gracefully reclining,
Set at rest by sweet and godlike balsam.
Gladly sat I, and the contemplation
Held the strong desire I felt to wake her
Firmer and firmer down, with mystic fetters.


"Oh, thou love," methought, "I see that slumber,
Slumber that betrayeth each false feature,
Cannot injure thee, can nought discover
That could serve to harm thy friend's soft feelings.


"Now thy beauteous eyes are firmly closed,
That, when open, form mine only rapture.
And thy sweet lips are devoid of motion,
Motionless for speaking or for kissing;
Loosen'd are the soft and magic fetters
Of thine arms, so wont to twine around me,
And the hand, the ravishing companion
Of thy sweet caresses, lies unmoving.
Were my thoughts of thee but based on error,
Were the love I bear thee self-deception,
I must now have found it out, since Amor
Is, without his bandage, placed beside me."


Long I sat thus, full of heartfelt pleasure
At my love, and at her matchless merit;
She had so delighted me while slumbering,
That I could not venture to awake her.


Then I on the little table near her



Softly placed two oranges, two roses;
Gently, gently stole I from her chamber.
When her eyes the darling one shall open,
She will straightway spy these colourd presents,
And the friendly gift will view with wonder,
For the door will still remain unopen'd.


If perchance I see to-night the angel,
How will she rejoice,--reward me doubly
For this sacrifice of fond affection!

The Traveller And The Farm-Maiden

HE.
CANST thou give, oh fair and matchless maiden,
'Neath the shadow of the lindens yonder,--
Where I'd fain one moment cease to wander,--


Food and drink to one so heavy laden?
SHE.
Wouldst thou find refreshment, traveller weary,
Bread, ripe fruit and cream to meet thy wishes,--
None but Nature's plain and homely dishes,--


Near the spring may soothe thy wanderings dreary.
HE.
Dreams of old acquaintance now pass through me,
Ne'er-forgotten queen of hours of blisses.
Likenesses I've often found, but this is


One that quite a marvel seemeth to me!
SHE.
Travellers often wonder beyond measure,
But their wonder soon see cause to smother;
Fair and dark are often like each other,


Both inspire the mind with equal pleasure.
HE.
Not now for the first time I surrender
To this form, in humble adoration;
It was brightest midst the constellation


In the hail adorn'd with festal splendour.
SHE.
Be thou joyful that 'tis in my power
To complete thy strange and merry story!
Silks behind her, full of purple glory,



Floated, when thou saw'st her in that hour.
HE.
No, in truth, thou hast not sung it rightly!
Spirits may have told thee all about it;
Pearls and gems they spoke of, do not doubt it,--


By her gaze eclipsed,--it gleam'd so brightly!
SHE.
This one thing I certainly collected:
That the fair one--(say nought, I entreat thee!)
Fondly hoping once again to meet thee,


Many a castle in the air erected.
HE.
By each wind I ceaselessly was driven,
Seeking gold and honour, too, to capture!
When my wand'rings end, then oh, what rapture,


If to find that form again 'tis given!
SHE.
'Tis the daughter of the race now banish'd
That thou seest, not her likeness only;
Helen and her brother, glad though lonely,


Till this farm of their estate now vanish'd.
HE.
But the owner surely is not wanting
Of these plains, with ev'ry beauty teeming?
Verdant fields, broad meads, and pastures gleaming,


Gushing springs, all heav'nly and enchanting.
SHE.
Thou must hunt the world through, wouldst thou find him!--
We have wealth enough in our possession,



And intend to purchase the succession,
When the good man leaves the world behind him.
HE.
I have learnt the owner's own condition,


And, fair maiden, thou indeed canst buy it;
But the cost is great, I won't deny it,--
Helen is the price,--with thy permission!


SHE.
Did then fate and rank keep us asunder,
And must Love take this road, and no other?
Yonder comes my dear and trusty brother;


What will he say to it all, I wonder?

The Unequal Marriage

EVEN this heavenly pair were unequally match'd when united:
Psyche grew older and wise, Amor remain'd still a child,

The Spring Oracle

OH prophetic bird so bright,
Blossom-songster, cuckoo bight!
In the fairest time of year,
Dearest bird, oh! deign to hear
What a youthful pair would pray,
Do thou call, if hope they may:
Thy cuck-oo, thy cuck-oo.
Ever more cuck-oo, cuck-oo!


Hearest thou? A loving pair
Fain would to the altar fare;
Yes! a pair in happy youth,
Full of virtue, full of truth.
Is the hour not fix'd by fate?
Say, how long must they still wait?
Hark! cuck-oo! hark! cuck-oo!
Silent yet! for shame, cuck-oo!


'Tis not our fault, certainly!
Only two years patient be!
But if we ourselves please here,
Will pa-pa-papas appear?
Know that thou'lt more kindness do us,
More thou'lt prophesy unto us.
One! cuck-oo! Two! cuck-oo!
Ever, ever, cuck-oo, cuck-oo, coo!


If we've calculated clearly,
We have half a dozen nearly.
If good promises we'll give,
Wilt thou say how long we'II live?
Truly, we'll confess to thee,
We'd prolong it willingly.
Coo cuck-oo, coo cuck-oo,
Coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo!


Life is one continued feast-(
If we keep no score, at least).
If now we together dwell,
Will true love remain as well?
For if that should e'er decay,
Happiness would pass away.
Coo cuck-oo, coo cuck-oo,
Coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo!

The Spinner

As I calmly sat and span,

Toiling with all zeal,
Lo! a young and handsome man
Pass'd my spinning-wheel.
And he praised,--what harm was there?--
Sweet the things he said--


Praised my flax-resembling hair,
And the even thread.
He with this was not content,
But must needs do more;


And in twain the thread was rent,
Though 'twas safe before.
And the flax's stonelike weight
Needed to be told;


But no longer was its state
Valued as of old.
When I took it to the weaver,
Something felt I start,


And more quickly, as with fever,
Throbb'd my trembling heart.
Then I bear the thread at length
Through the heat, to bleach;


But, alas, I scarce have strength
To the pool to reach.
What I in my little room
Span so fine and slight,--


As was likely. I presume--
Came at last to light.

The Same

HUSH'D on the hill
Is the breeze;
Scarce by the zephyr
The trees
Softly are press'd;

The woodbird's asleep on the bough.
Wait, then, and thou
Soon wilt find rest.

The Shepherd's Lament

ON yonder lofty mountain

A thousand times I stand,
And on my staff reclining,
Look down on the smiling land.
My grazing flocks then I follow,
My dog protecting them well;


I find myself in the valley,
But how, I scarcely can tell.
The whole of the meadow is cover'd
With flowers of beauty rare;


I pluck them, but pluck them unknowing
To whom the offering to bear.
In rain and storm and tempest,
I tarry beneath the tree,


But closed remaineth yon portal;
'Tis all but a vision to me.
High over yonder dwelling,
There rises a rainbow gay;


But she from home hath departed
And wander'd far, far away.
Yes, far away bath she wander'd,
Perchance e'en over the sea;


Move onward, ye sheep, then, move onward!
Full sad the shepherd must be.

The Reckoning

LEADER.
LET no cares now hover o'er us
Let the wine unsparing run!


Wilt thou swell our merry chorus?
Hast thou all thy duty done?
SOLO.
Two young folks--the thing is curious--
Loved each other; yesterday


Both quite mild, to-day quite furious,


Next day, quite the deuce to pay!
If her neck she there was stooping,
He must here needs pull his hair.

I revived their spirits drooping,
And they're now a happy pair.
CHORUS.
Surely we for wine may languish!
Let the bumper then go round!


For all sighs and groans of anguish
Thou to-day in joy hast drown'd.
SOLO.
Why, young orphan, all this wailing?
"Would to heaven that I were dead!


For my guardian's craft prevailing


Soon will make me beg my bread."
Knowing well the rascal genus,
Into court I dragg'd the knave;

Fair the judges were between us,
And the maiden's wealth did save.
CHORUS.
Surely we for wine may languish!



Let the bumper then go round!
For all sighs and groans of anguish
Thou to-day in joy hast drown'd.
SOLO.

To a little fellow, quiet,
Unpretending and subdued,
Has a big clown, running riot,

Been to-day extremely rude.

I bethought me of my duty,
And my courage swell'd apace,
So I spoil'd the rascal's beauty,

Slashing him across the face.
CHORUS.
Surely we for wine may languish!
Let the bumper then go round!


For all sighs and groans of anguish
Thou to-day in joy hast drown'd.
SOLO.
Brief must be my explanation,
For I really have done nought.


Free from trouble and vexation,


I a landlord's business bought.
There I've done, with all due ardour,
All that duty order'd me;

Each one ask'd me for the larder,
And there was no scarcity.
CHORUS.
Surely we for wine may languish!
Let the bumper then go round!


For all sighs and groans of anguish
Thou to-day in joy hast drown'd.



LEADER.
Each should thus make proclamation
Of what he did well to-day!


That's the match whose conflagration


Should inflame our tuneful lay.
Let it be our precept ever
To admit no waverer here!


For to act the good endeavour,
None but rascals meek appear.
CHORUS.
Surely we for wine may languish!
Let the bumper then go round!


For all sighs and groans of anguish
We have now in rapture drown'd.
TRIO.
Let each merry minstrel enter,
He's right welcome to our hall!


'Tis but with the selfÄtormentor
That we are not liberal;
For we fear that his caprices,
That his eye-brows dark and sad,


That his grief that never ceases
Hide an empty heart, or bad.
CHORUS.
No one now for wine shall languish!
Here no minstrel shall be found,


Who all sighs and groans of anguish,
Has not first in rapture drown'd!

The Rule Of Life

IF thou wouldst live unruffled by care,
Let not the past torment thee e'er;
As little as possible be thou annoy'd,
And let the present be ever enjoy'd;
Ne'er let thy breast with hate be supplied,
And to God the future confide.

The Pariah - The Pariah's Thanks

MIGHTY Brama, now I'll bless thee!

'Tis from thee that worlds proceed!
As my ruler I confess thee,
For of all thou takest heed.
All thy thousand ears thou keepest
Open to each child of earth;


We, 'mongst mortals sunk the deepest,
Have from thee received new birth.
Bear in mind the woman's story,
Who, through grief, divine became;


Now I'll wait to view His glory,
Who omnipotence can claim.

The Pupil In Magic

I AM now,--what joy to hear it!--
Of the old magician rid;
And henceforth shall ev'ry spirit
Do whate'er by me is bid;


I have watch'd with rigour
All he used to do,
And will now with vigour
Work my wonders too.


Wander, wander
Onward lightly,
So that rightly


Flow the torrent,
And with teeming waters yonder
In the bath discharge its current!


And now come, thou well-worn broom,
And thy wretched form bestir;
Thou hast ever served as groom,
So fulfil my pleasure, sir!


On two legs now stand,
With a head on top;
Waterpail in hand,
Haste, and do not stop!


Wander, wander
Onward lightly,
So that rightly
Flow the torrent,
And with teeming waters yonder
In the bath discharge its current!


See! he's running to the shore,
And has now attain'd the pool,
And with lightning speed once more
Comes here, with his bucket full!


Back he then repairs;
See how swells the tide!
How each pail he bears
Straightway is supplied!


Stop, for, lo!
All the measure
Of thy treasure


Now is right!-


Ah, I see it! woe, oh woe!

I forget the word of might.
Ah, the word whose sound can straight
Make him what he was before!
Ah, he runs with nimble gait!


Would thou wert a broom once more!
Streams renew'd for ever
Quickly bringeth he;
River after river
Rusheth on poor me!

Now no longer
Can I bear him;
I will snare him,


Knavish sprite!
Ah, my terror waxes stronger!
What a look! what fearful sight


Oh, thou villain child of hell!
Shall the house through thee be drown'd
Floods I see that wildly swell,
O'er the threshold gaining ground.


Wilt thou not obey,
Oh, thou broom accurs'd?
Be thou still I pray,
As thou wert at first!


Will enough
Never please thee?
I will seize thee,


Hold thee fast,
And thy nimble wood so tough,
With my sharp axe split at last.


See, once more he hastens back!
Now, oh Cobold, thou shalt catch it!
I will rush upon his track;
Crashing on him falls my hatchet.


Bravely done, indeed!

See, he's cleft in twain!
Now from care I'm freed,
And can breathe again.


Woe, oh woe!
Both the parts,
Quick as darts,


Stand on end,
Servants of my dreaded foe!
Oh, ye gods protection send!


And they run! and wetter still
Grow the steps and grows the hail.
Lord and master hear me call!
Ever seems the flood to fill,


Ah, he's coming! see,
Great is my dismay!
Spirits raised by me
Vainly would I lay!


"To the side
Of the room
Hasten, broom,


As of old!
Spirits I have ne'er untied
Save to act as they are told."

The Pariah - Legend

WATER-FETCHING goes the noble
Brahmin's wife, so pure and lovely;
He is honour'd, void of blemish.
And of justice rigid, stern.
Daily from the sacred river
Brings she back refreshments precious;--
But where is the pail and pitcher?
She of neither stands in need.
For with pure heart, hands unsullied,
She the water lifts, and rolls it
To a wondrous ball of crystal
This she bears with gladsome bosom,
Modestly, with graceful motion,
To her husband in the house.


She to-day at dawn of morning
Praying comes to Ganges' waters,
Bends her o'er the glassy surface--
Sudden, in the waves reflected,
Flying swiftly far above her,
From the highest heavens descending,
She discerns the beauteous form
Of a youth divine, created
By the God's primeval wisdom
In his own eternal breast.


When she sees him, straightway feels she
Wondrous, new, confused sensations
In her inmost, deepest being;
Fain she'd linger o'er the vision,
Then repels it,--it returneth,--
And, perplex'd, she bends her flood-wards
With uncertain hands to draw it;
But, alas, she draws no more!
For the water's sacred billows
Seem to fly, to hasten from her;
She but sees the fearful chasm
Of a whirlpool black disclosed.


Arms drop down, and footsteps stumble,
Can this be the pathway homewards?
Shall she fly, or shall she tarry?
Can she think, when thought and counsel,
When assistance all are lost?
So before her spouse appears she--
On her looks he--look is judgment--
Proudly on the sword he seizes,
To the hill of death he drags her,
Where delinquents' blood pays forfeit.
What resistance could she offer?
What excuses could she proffer,
Guilty, knowing not her guilt?



And with bloody sword returns he,
Musing, to his silent dwelling,
When his son before him stands:
"Whose this blood? Oh, father! father!"
"The delinquent woman's!"--"Never!
For upon the sword it dries not,
Like the blood of the delinquent;
Fresh it flows, as from the wound.
Mother! mother! hither hasten!
Unjust never was my father,
Tell me what he now hath done."-"
Silence! silence! hers the blood is!"
"Whose, my father?"--"Silence! Silence!"
"What! oh what! my mother's blood!
What her crime? What did she? Answer!
Now, the sword! the sword now hold I;
Thou thy wife perchance might'st slaughter,
But my mother might'st not slay!
Through the flames the wife is able
Her beloved spouse to follow,
And his dear and only mother
Through the sword her faithful son."
"Stay! oh stay!" exclaim'd the father:
"Yet 'tis time, so hasten, hasten!
Join the head upon the body,
With the sword then touch the figure,
And, alive she'll follow thee."


Hastening, he, with breathless wonder,
Sees the bodies of two women
Lying crosswise, and their heads too;
Oh, what horror! which to choose!
Then his mother's head he seizes,--
Does not kiss it, deadly pale 'tis,--
On the nearest headless body
Puts it quickly, and then blesses
With the sword the pious work.
Then the giant form uprises,--
From the dear lips of his mother,
Lips all god-like--changeless--blissful,
Sound these words with horror fraught:
"Son, oh son! what overhast'ning!
Yonder is thy mother's body,
Near it lies the impious head
Of the woman who hath fallen
Victim to the judgment-sword!
To her body I am grafted
By thy hand for endless ages;
Wise in counsel, wild in action,
I shall be amongst the gods.
E'en the heav'nly boy's own image,



Though in eye and brow so lovely,
Sinking downwards to the bosom
Mad and raging lust will stir.


"'Twill return again for ever,
Ever rising, ever sinking,
Now obscured, and now transfigur'd,--
So great Brama hath ordain'd.
He 'twas sent the beauteous pinions,
Radiant face and slender members
Of the only God-begotten,
That I might be proved and tempted;
For from high descends temptation,
When the gods ordain it so.
And so I, the Brahmin woman,
With my head in Heaven reclining,
Must experience, as a Pariah,
The debasing power of earth.


Son, I send thee to thy father!
Comfort him! Let no sad penance,
Weak delay, or thought of merit,
Hold thee in the desert fast
Wander on through ev'ry nation,
Roam abroad throughout all ages,
And proclaim to e'en the meanest,
That great Brama hears his cry!


"None is in his eyes the meanest--
He whose limbs are lame and palsied,
He whose soul is wildly riven,
Worn with sorrow, hopeless, helpless,
Be he Brahmin, be he Pariah,
If tow'rd heaven he turns his gaze,
Will perceive, will learn to know it:
Thousand eyes are glowing yonder,
Thousand ears are calmly list'ning,
From which nought below is hid.


"If I to his throne soar upward,
If he sees my fearful figure
By his might transform'd to horror,
He for ever will lament it,--
May it to your good be found!
And I now will kindly warn him,
And I now will madly tell him
Whatsoe'er my mind conceiveth,
What within my bosom heaveth.
But my thoughts, my inmost feelings--
Those a secret shall remain."

The Originals

A FELLOW says: "I own no school or college;
No master lives whom I acknowledge;
And pray don't entertain the thought
That from the dead I e'er learnt aught."
This, if I rightly understand,
Means: "I'm a blockhead at first hand."

The Muse's Mirror

EARLY one day, the Muse, when eagerly bent on adornment,
Follow'd a swift-running streamlet, the quietest nook by it seeking.
Quickly and noisily flowing, the changeful surface distorted
Ever her moving form; the goddess departed in anger.
Yet the stream call'd mockingly after her, saying: "What, truly!
Wilt thou not view, then, the truth, in my mirror so clearly depicted?"
But she already was far away, on the brink of the ocean,
In her figure rejoicing, and duly arranging her garland.

The New Amadis

IN my boyhood's days so drear

I was kept confined;
There I sat for many a year,
All alone I pined,


As within the womb.
Yet thou drov'st away my gloom,
Golden phantasy!


I became a hero true,


Like the Prince Pipi,
And the world roam'd through,
Many a crystal palace built,
Crush'd them with like art,


And the Dragon's life-blood spilt


With my glitt'ring dart.
Yes! I was a man!
Next I formed the knightly plan
Princess Fish to free;


She was much too complaisant,


Kindly welcomed me,--
And I was gallant.
Heav'nly bread her kisses proved,
Glowing as the wine;


Almost unto death I loved.


Sun-s appeared to shine
In her dazzling charms.
Who hath torn her from mine arms?
Could no magic band


Make her in her flight delay?


Say, where now her land?
Where, alas, the way?