Ah, sweetest! let me to thee repair, —
Nor dread me!
When suddenly rose a fearful din,
Her mad relations came pouring in;
My blood still boils in my body!
Gypsy.
“Oh, when will return an hour like this?
I pine in silent sadness;
I’ve thrown away my only true bliss
With madness.
Alas, poor maid! O pity my youth!
My brother was then full cruel in truth
To treat the lov’d one so basely!”
The Poet.
The swarthy woman then went inside,
To the spring in the courtyard yonder;
Her eyes from their stain she purified,
And, — wonder! —
Her face and eyes were radiant and bright,
And the maid of the mill was disclos’d to the sight
Of the startl’d and angry stripling!
The Maid of the Mill.
Thou sweetest, fairest, dearly-lov’d life!
Before thine anger I cower;
But blows I dread not, nor sharp-edg’d knife, —
This hour
Of sorrow and love to thee I’ll sing,
And myself before thy feet I’ll fling,
And either live or die there!
Youth.
Affection, say, why buried so deep
In my heart hast thou lain hidden?
By whom hast thou now to awake from thy sleep
Been bidden?
Ah, love, that thou art immortal I see!
Nor knavish cunning nor treachery
Can destroy thy life so godlike.
The Maid of the Mill.
If still, with as fond and heartfelt love,
As thou once didst swear, I’m cherish’d,
Then nought of the rapture we used to prove
Is perish’d.
So take the woman so dear to thy breast!
In her young and innocent charms be bless’d,
For all are thine from henceforward!
Both.
Now, sun, sink to rest! Now, sun, arise!
Ye stars, be now shining, now darkling!
A star of love now gleams in the skies,
All-sparkling!
As long as the fountain may spring and run,
So long will we two be blended in one,
Upon each other’s bosoms!
Chronological table of contents
Alphabetical table of contents
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.
Would’st 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 hall adorn’d with festal splendor.
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 eclips’d, — 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 honor, 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, would’st 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 learn’d the owrer’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?
Chronological table of contents
Alphabetical table of contents
EFFECTS AT A DISTANCE.
THE queen in the lofty hall takes her place,
The tapers around her are flaming;
She speaks to the page: “With a nimble pace
Go, fetch me my purse for gaming.
’Tis lying, I’ll pledge,
On my table’s edge.”
Each nerve the nimble boy straineth,
And the end of the castle soon gaineth.
The fairest of maidens was sipping sherbet
Beside the queen that minute;
Near her mouth broke the cup, — and she got so wet!
The very devil seem’d in it!
What fearful distress!
’Tis spoil’d, her gay dress!
She hastens, and ev’ry nerve straineth,
And the end of the castle soon gaineth.
The boy was returning, and quickly came,
And met the sorrowing maiden;
None knew of the fact, — and yet with Love’s flame,
Those two had their hearts full laden.
And, oh, the bliss
Of a moment like this!
Each falls on the breast of the other,
With kisses that well nigh might smother.
They tear themselves asunder at last,
To her chamber she hastens quickly;
To reach the queen the page hies him fast,
Midst the swords and the fans crowded thickly.
The queen spied amain
On his waistcoat a stain;
For nought was inscrutable to her,
Like Sheba’s queen — Solomon’s wooer.
To her chief attendant she forthwith cried:
“We lately together contended,
And thou didst assert, with obstinate pride,
That the spirit through space never wended, —
That traces alone
By the present were
shown, —
That afar nought was fashion’d, — not even
By the stars that illumine yon heaven.
“Now see! while a goblet beside me they drain’d,
They spill’d all the drink in the chalice;
And straightway the boy had his waistcoat stain’d
At the furthermost end of the palace. —
Let them newly be clad!
And since I am glad
That it serv’d as a proof so decided,
The cost will by me be provided.”
Chronological table of contents
Alphabetical table of contents
THE WALKING BELL.
A CHILD refus’d to go betimes
To church like other people;
He roam’d abroad, when rang the chimes
On Sundays from the steeple.
His mother said: “Loud rings the bell,
Its voice ne’er think of scorning;
Unless thou wilt behave thee well,
‘Twill fetch thee without warning.”
The child then thought: “High overhead
The bell is safe suspended” —
So to the fields he straightway sped
As if ’twas school-time ended.
The bell now ceas’d as bell to ring,
Rous’d by the mother’s twaddle;
But soon ensu’d a dreadful thing! —
The bell begins to waddle.
It waddles fast, though strange it seem;
The child, with trembling wonder,
Runs off, and flies, as in a dream;
The bell would draw him under.
He finds the proper time at last,
And straightway nimbly rushes
To church, to chapel, hastening fast
Through pastures, plains and bushes.
Each Sunday and each feast as well,
His late disaster heeds he;
The moment that he hears the bell,
No other summons needs he.
Chronological table of contents
Alphabetical table of contents
FAITHFUL ECKART.
“OH, would we were further! Oh, would we were home,
The phantoms of night tow’rd us hastily come,
The band of the Sorceress sisters.
They hitherward speed, and on finding us here,
They’ll drink, though with toil we have fetch’d it, the beer,
And leave us the pitchers all empty.”
Thus speaking, the children with fear take to flight,
When sudden an old man appears in their sight:
“Be quiet, child! children, be quiet!
From hunting they come, and their thirst they would still,
So leave them to swallow as much as they will,
And the Evil Ones then will be gracious.”
As said, so ’twas done! and the phantoms draw near,
And shadowlike seem they, and gray they appear,
Yet blithely they sip and they revel:
The beer has all vanish’d, the pitchers are void;
With cries and with shouts the wild hunters, o’erjoy’d,
Speed onward o’er vale and o’er mountain.
The children in terror fly nimbly tow’rd home,
And with them the kind one is careful to come:
“My darlings, oh, be not so mournful!” —
“They’ll blame us and beat us, until we are dead.” —
“No, no! ye will find that all goes well,” he said;
“Be silent as mice, then, and listen!
“And he by whose counsels thus wisely ye’re taught,
Is he who with children loves ever to sport,
The trusty and faithful old Eckart.
Ye have heard of the wonder for many a day,
But ne’er had a proof of the marvellous lay, —
Your hands hold a proof most convincing.”
They arrive at their home, and their pitchers they place
By the side of their parents, with fear on their face,
Awaiting a beating and scolding.
But see what they’re tasting: the choicest of beer!
Though three times and four times they quaff the good cheer,
The pitchers remain still unemptied.
The marvel it lasts till the dawning of day;
All people who hear of it doubtless will say:
“What happen’d at length to the pitchers?”
In secret the children they smile, as they wait;
At last, though, they stammer, and stutter, and prate,
And straightway the pitchers were empty.
And if, children, with kindness address’d ye may be,
Whether father, or master, or alderman he,
Obey him, and follow his bidding!
And if ’tis unpleasant to bridle the tongue,
Yet talking is bad, silence good for the young —
And then will the beer fill your pitchers!
Chronological table of contents
Alphabetical table of contents
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 rigor
All he used to do,
And will now with vigor
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 serv’d 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 forever
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;
&nb
sp; 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 hall.
Lord and master, hear me call!
Ever seems the flood to fill,
Ah, he’s coming! see,
Great is my dismay!
Spirits rais’d 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.”
Chronological table of contents
Alphabetical table of contents
THE DANCE OF DEATH.
THE warder looks down at the mid hour of night,
On the tombs that lie scatter’d below;
The moon fills the place with her silvery light,
And the churchyard like day seems to glow.
When see! first one grave, then another opes wide,
And women and men stepping forth are descried,
In cerements snow-white and trailing.
In haste for the sport soon their ankles they twitch,
And whirl round in dances so gay;
The young and the old, and the poor, and the rich,
But the cerements stand in their way;
And as modesty cannot avail them aught here,
They shake themselves all, and the shrouds soon appear
Scatter’d over the tombs in confusion.
Now waggles the leg, and now wriggles the thigh,
As the troop with strange gestures advance,
And a rattle and clatter anon rises high,
As of one beating time to the dance.
The sight to the warder seems wondrously queer,
When the villanous Tempter speaks thus in his ear:
“Seize one of the shrouds that lie yonder!”
Quick as thought it was done! and for safety he fled
Behind the church-door with all speed;
The moon still continues her clear light to shed
On the dance that they fearfully lead.
But the dancers at length disappear one by one,
And their shrouds, ere they vanish, they carefully don,
And under the turf all is quiet.
But one of them stumbles and shuffles there still,
And gropes at the graves in despair;
Yet ’tis by no comrade he’s treated so ill; —
The shroud he soon scents in the air.
So he rattles the door — for the warder ’tis well
That ’tis bless’d, and so able the foe to repel,
All cover’d with crosses in metal.
The shroud he must have, and no rest will allow,
Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Page 270