When I thy book, friend, open hastily,
Full many a cherish’d picture meets my view,
And many a golden image that I knew
In boyish dreams and days of infancy.
Proudly tow’rd heaven upsoaring, then I see
The pious dome, rotted by religion true,
I bear the sound of bell and organ too,
Love’s sweet lament at times addressing me.
Well see I, too, how o’er the dome they skip,
The nimble dwarfs, and with malicious joy
The beauteous flow’r- and carvèd- work destroy.
But though the oak of foliage we may strip,
And rob it of its fair and verdant grace,
When spring returns, fresh leaves it dons apace.
Full many a cherish’d picture meets my view,
And many a golden image that I knew
In boyish dreams and days of infancy.
Proudly tow’rd heaven upsoaring, then I see
The pious dome, rotted by religion true,
I bear the sound of bell and organ too,
Love’s sweet lament at times addressing me.
Well see I, too, how o’er the dome they skip,
The nimble dwarfs, and with malicious joy
The beauteous flow’r- and carvèd- work destroy.
But though the oak of foliage we may strip,
And rob it of its fair and verdant grace,
When spring returns, fresh leaves it dons apace.
FRESCO-SONNETS TO CHRISTIAN S—.
1.
I take no notice of the blockheads tame
Who, seeming to be golden, are but sand;
I never offer to that rogue my hand
Who secretly would injure my good name;
I bow not to the harlots who proclaim
Boldly their infamy throughout the land;
And when in victor-cars the rabble band
Draw their vain idols, with them I ne’er came.
Well know I that the oak must fall indeed,
Whilst by the streamlet’s side the pliant reed
Stands in all winds and weathers, fearing not;
But say, what is the reed’s eventual lot?
What joy! As walking-stick it serves the dandy,
Or else for beating clothes they find it handy.
Who, seeming to be golden, are but sand;
I never offer to that rogue my hand
Who secretly would injure my good name;
I bow not to the harlots who proclaim
Boldly their infamy throughout the land;
And when in victor-cars the rabble band
Draw their vain idols, with them I ne’er came.
Well know I that the oak must fall indeed,
Whilst by the streamlet’s side the pliant reed
Stands in all winds and weathers, fearing not;
But say, what is the reed’s eventual lot?
What joy! As walking-stick it serves the dandy,
Or else for beating clothes they find it handy.
2.
Give me a mask, I’ll join the masquerade
As country clown, so that the rabble rot
Who in their proud disguises strut about
May not suppose me one of their vile trade.
Give me low manners, words on purpose made
To show vulgarity beyond all doubt;
All sparks of spirit I’ll with care put out
Wherewith dull fools coquet in accents staid.
So will I dance then at the great mask’d ball,
By German knights, monks, kings surrounded too,
By Harlequin saluted, known to few.
With wooden swords they’ll strike me, one and all.
That is the joke. For if I show my face,
The rascals will be silenced in disgrace.
As country clown, so that the rabble rot
Who in their proud disguises strut about
May not suppose me one of their vile trade.
Give me low manners, words on purpose made
To show vulgarity beyond all doubt;
All sparks of spirit I’ll with care put out
Wherewith dull fools coquet in accents staid.
So will I dance then at the great mask’d ball,
By German knights, monks, kings surrounded too,
By Harlequin saluted, known to few.
With wooden swords they’ll strike me, one and all.
That is the joke. For if I show my face,
The rascals will be silenced in disgrace.
3.
I laugh at all the fools who at me gape,
And whom with prying goat-like face I see;
I laugh at every fox who knavishly
And idly snuffs me like a very grape;
I laugh at every vain pretentious ape,
Who a proud judge of genius claims to be;
I laugh at all the knaves who threaten me
With poisonous weapons whence there’s no escape.
For when the charming fancies joy once gave
Are wrested from us by the hands of fate,
And at our feet in thousand atoms cast,
And when our very heart is torn at last,
All torn and cut and pierced and desolate,
A fine shrill laugh we still have power to save.
And whom with prying goat-like face I see;
I laugh at every fox who knavishly
And idly snuffs me like a very grape;
I laugh at every vain pretentious ape,
Who a proud judge of genius claims to be;
I laugh at all the knaves who threaten me
With poisonous weapons whence there’s no escape.
For when the charming fancies joy once gave
Are wrested from us by the hands of fate,
And at our feet in thousand atoms cast,
And when our very heart is torn at last,
All torn and cut and pierced and desolate,
A fine shrill laugh we still have power to save.
4.
A strange and charming tale still haunts my mind,
Wherein a song the leading part assumes,
And in the song there lives and twines and blooms
A lovely specimen of womankind;
And in this maiden is a heart enshrined,
And yet no love that little heart illumes;
Her loveless frosty disposition dooms
Her life to suffer from her pride so blind.
Hear’st thou how in my head the tale comes back?
And how the song sounds solemnly and sad?
And how the maiden titters softly yet?
I only fear lest my poor head should crack.
Alas! it would indeed be far too bad,
If my unlucky reason were upset.
Wherein a song the leading part assumes,
And in the song there lives and twines and blooms
A lovely specimen of womankind;
And in this maiden is a heart enshrined,
And yet no love that little heart illumes;
Her loveless frosty disposition dooms
Her life to suffer from her pride so blind.
Hear’st thou how in my head the tale comes back?
And how the song sounds solemnly and sad?
And how the maiden titters softly yet?
I only fear lest my poor head should crack.
Alas! it would indeed be far too bad,
If my unlucky reason were upset.
5.
At evening’s silent, melancholy hour,
Long buried songs around me take their place,
And burning tears course swiftly down my face,
And my old heart-wounds bleed with greater power.
My love’s dear image like a beauteous flower
As in a magic glass again I trace;
In bodice red she sits and sews apace,
And silence reigns around her blissful bower.
But on a sudden springs she from her seat,
And cuts from her dear head a beauteous lock,
And gives it me—the very joy’s a shock.
The Evil One soon spoilt my rapture sweet:
The hair he twisted in a rope full strong,
And many a year has dragg’d me thus along.
Long buried songs around me take their place,
And burning tears course swiftly down my face,
And my old heart-wounds bleed with greater power.
My love’s dear image like a beauteous flower
As in a magic glass again I trace;
In bodice red she sits and sews apace,
And silence reigns around her blissful bower.
But on a sudden springs she from her seat,
And cuts from her dear head a beauteous lock,
And gives it me—the very joy’s a shock.
The Evil One soon spoilt my rapture sweet:
The hair he twisted in a rope full strong,
And many a year has dragg’d me thus along.
6.
“When I a year ago again met thee,
“No kiss thou gav’st me in that moment blest;”—
Thus spake I, and my love a kiss impress’d
With rosy mouth upon my lips with glee.
With a sweet smile she from a myrtle tree
Hard by us pluck’d a twig, and said in jest:
“Take thou this twig, in fresh earth let it rest,
“And o’er it place a glass,”—then nodded she.
Twas long ago. The twig died in the pot.
’Tis many a year since she hath cross’d my sight;
Yet in my head that kiss still burneth hot.
Lately returning home, I sought the place
Where dwells my love. Before her house all night
I stood, and left when morning show’d its face.
“No kiss thou gav’st me in that moment blest;”—
Thus spake I, and my love a kiss impress’d
With rosy mouth upon my lips with glee.
With a sweet smile she from a myrtle tree
Hard by us pluck’d a twig, and said in jest:
“Take thou this twig, in fresh earth let it rest,
“And o’er it place a glass,”—then nodded she.
Twas long ago. The twig died in the pot.
’Tis many a year since she hath cross’d my sight;
Yet in my head that kiss still burneth hot.
Lately returning home, I sought the place
Where dwells my love. Before her house all night
I stood, and left when morning show’d its face.
7.
Of savage devils’-brats, my friend, beware,
But gentle angels’-brats more hearts will break;
Once such a one a sweet kiss bid me take,
But when I came, I felt sharp talons there.
Of black and ancient cats, my friend, take care,
But white young kittens are still more awake;
Once such a one my sweetheart did I make,—
My heart my sweetheart savagely did tear.
O darling brat! O maiden passing sweet!
How could thy clear eye e’er deceive me so?
How could thy paw e’er give me such a blow?
O my dear kitten’s paw so soft and neat!
Could I but press thee to my glowing lip!
And could my life-blood meanwhile cease to drip!
But gentle angels’-brats more hearts will break;
Once such a one a sweet kiss bid me take,
But when I came, I felt sharp talons there.
Of black and ancient cats, my friend, take care,
But white young kittens are still more awake;
Once such a one my sweetheart did I make,—
My heart my sweetheart savagely did tear.
O darling brat! O maiden passing sweet!
How could thy clear eye e’er deceive me so?
How could thy paw e’er give me such a blow?
O my dear kitten’s paw so soft and neat!
Could I but press thee to my glowing lip!
And could my life-blood meanwhile cease to drip!
8.
Thou oft hast seen me boldly strive with those,—
Both spectacled old fop and painted dame,—
Who gladly would destroy my honest name,
And gladly see my last expiring throes.
Thou oft hast seen bow pedants round me close,
How fools with cap and bells my life defame,
How poisonous serpents gnaw my sinking frame,
Whilst from a thousand wounds my life-blood flows
But firm as any tower there stood thy form;
Thy head a lighthouse was amid the storm,
Thy faithful heart a haven was for me;
Though round that haven roars the raging main,
And few the ships the landing place that gain,
Once there, we slumber in security.
Both spectacled old fop and painted dame,—
Who gladly would destroy my honest name,
And gladly see my last expiring throes.
Thou oft hast seen bow pedants round me close,
How fools with cap and bells my life defame,
How poisonous serpents gnaw my sinking frame,
Whilst from a thousand wounds my life-blood flows
But firm as any tower there stood thy form;
Thy head a lighthouse was amid the storm,
Thy faithful heart a haven was for me;
Though round that haven roars the raging main,
And few the ships the landing place that gain,
Once there, we slumber in security.
9.
Fain would I weep, but, ah, I cannot weep;
Fain would I upwards full of vigour spring
But cannot; to the earth I needs must cling,
Spurn’d by the reptiles that around me creep.
Fain would I near my beauteous mistress keep,
Near my bright light of life be hovering,
And in her dear sweet breath be revelling,
But cannot; for my heart with sorrow deep
Is breaking; from my broken heart doth flow
My burning blood, my strength within me fades
And darker, darker grows the world to me.
With secret awe I yearn unceasingly
For yonder misty realm, where silent shades
Their gentle loving arms around me throw.
Fain would I upwards full of vigour spring
But cannot; to the earth I needs must cling,
Spurn’d by the reptiles that around me creep.
Fain would I near my beauteous mistress keep,
Near my bright light of life be hovering,
And in her dear sweet breath be revelling,
But cannot; for my heart with sorrow deep
Is breaking; from my broken heart doth flow
My burning blood, my strength within me fades
And darker, darker grows the world to me.
With secret awe I yearn unceasingly
For yonder misty realm, where silent shades
Their gentle loving arms around me throw.
LYRICAL INTERLUDE.
1822-23.
PROLOGUE.
There once lived a knight, who was mournful and bent,
His cheeks white as snow were, and hollow;
He totter’d and stagger’d wherever he went,
A vain vision attempting to follow.
He seem’d so clumsy and awkward and gauche,
That the flowers and girls, when they saw him approach,
Their merriment scarcely could swallow.
His cheeks white as snow were, and hollow;
He totter’d and stagger’d wherever he went,
A vain vision attempting to follow.
He seem’d so clumsy and awkward and gauche,
That the flowers and girls, when they saw him approach,
Their merriment scarcely could swallow.
From his room’s darkest corner he often ne’er stirr’d,
Esteeming the sight of men shocking,
And extended his arms, without speaking a word,
As though some vain phantom were mocking.
But scarce had the hour of midnight drawn near,
When a wonderful singing and noise met his ear,
And he heard at the door a strange knocking.
Esteeming the sight of men shocking,
And extended his arms, without speaking a word,
As though some vain phantom were mocking.
But scarce had the hour of midnight drawn near,
When a wonderful singing and noise met his ear,
And he heard at the door a strange knocking.
His mistress then secretly enters the room,
In a dress made of foam of the ocean;
She glows like a rosebud, so sweet is her bloom,
Her jewell’d veil’s ever in motion;
Her golden locks play round her form slim and tall,
Their eyes meet with rapture, and straightway they fall
In each other’s arms with devotion.
In a dress made of foam of the ocean;
She glows like a rosebud, so sweet is her bloom,
Her jewell’d veil’s ever in motion;
Her golden locks play round her form slim and tall,
Their eyes meet with rapture, and straightway they fall
In each other’s arms with devotion.
In his loving embraces the knight holds her fast,
The dullard with passion is glowing;
He reddens, the dreamer awakens at last,
And bolder and bolder he’s growing.
But she grows more saucy and mocking instead,
And gently and softly she covers his head,
Her white jewell’d veil o’er him throwing.
The dullard with passion is glowing;
He reddens, the dreamer awakens at last,
And bolder and bolder he’s growing.
But she grows more saucy and mocking instead,
And gently and softly she covers his head,
Her white jewell’d veil o’er him throwing.
To a watery palace of crystal bright
The knight on a sudden is taken;
His eyes are dazzled by radiant light,
By his wits he is well-nigh forsaken.
But the nymph holds him closely embraced by her side
The knight is the bridegroom, the nymph is the bride
While her maidens the lute’s notes awaken.
The knight on a sudden is taken;
His eyes are dazzled by radiant light,
By his wits he is well-nigh forsaken.
But the nymph holds him closely embraced by her side
The knight is the bridegroom, the nymph is the bride
While her maidens the lute’s notes awaken.
So sweetly they play and so sweetly they sing,
In the dance they are moving so lightly,
That the knight before long finds his senses take wing,
He embraces his sweet one more tightly—
When all of a sudden the lights disappear,
And the knight’s once more sitting in solitude drear
In his poet’s low garret unsightly.
In the dance they are moving so lightly,
That the knight before long finds his senses take wing,
He embraces his sweet one more tightly—
When all of a sudden the lights disappear,
And the knight’s once more sitting in solitude drear
In his poet’s low garret unsightly.
1.
’Twas in the beauteous month of May,
When all the flowers were springing,
That first within my bosom
I heard love’s echo ringing.
When all the flowers were springing,
That first within my bosom
I heard love’s echo ringing.
’Twas in the beauteous month of May,
When all the birds were singing,
That first I to my sweetheart
My vows of love was bringing.
When all the birds were singing,
That first I to my sweetheart
My vows of love was bringing.
2.
From out of my tears all burning
Many blooming flowerets break,
And all my sighs combining
A chorus of nightingales make.
Many blooming flowerets break,
And all my sighs combining
A chorus of nightingales make.
And if thou dost love me, my darling,
To thee shall the flowerets belong;
Before thy window shall echo
The nightingale’s tuneful song.
To thee shall the flowerets belong;
Before thy window shall echo
The nightingale’s tuneful song.
3.
The rose and the lily, the dove and the sun,
I loved them all dearly once, every one;
I love them no longer, I love now alone
The small one, the neat one, the pure one, mine own.
Yes, she herself, the fount of all love,
Is the rose and the lily, the sun and the dove.
I loved them all dearly once, every one;
I love them no longer, I love now alone
The small one, the neat one, the pure one, mine own.
Yes, she herself, the fount of all love,
Is the rose and the lily, the sun and the dove.
4.
5.
Thy face, so lovely and serene,
In vision I have lately seen;
So like an angel’s ’tis, and meek,
Though bitter grief has blanch’d thy cheek.
In vision I have lately seen;
So like an angel’s ’tis, and meek,
Though bitter grief has blanch’d thy cheek.
Thy lips alone, they still are red;
Death soon will kiss them pale and dead;
The heavenly light will soon be o’er
That from thine eyes is wont to pour.
Death soon will kiss them pale and dead;
The heavenly light will soon be o’er
That from thine eyes is wont to pour.
6.
O lean thy beauteous cheek on mine,
That our tears together may mingle!
Against my bosom press thou thine,
That their flames may no longer be single
That our tears together may mingle!
Against my bosom press thou thine,
That their flames may no longer be single
And when with the flame is mingled at last
The stream of our tears all burning,
And mine arm is lovingly round thee cast,—
I’ll die of my love’s sweet yearning.
The stream of our tears all burning,
And mine arm is lovingly round thee cast,—
I’ll die of my love’s sweet yearning.
7.
I’ll dip my spirit discreetly
In the cup of the lily down here;
The lily shall sing to me sweetly
A song of my mistress dear.
In the cup of the lily down here;
The lily shall sing to me sweetly
A song of my mistress dear.
The song shall tremble and quiver,
Like that delicious kiss,
Of which her mouth was the giver
In a wondrous moment of bliss.
Like that delicious kiss,
Of which her mouth was the giver
In a wondrous moment of bliss.
8.
The stars in yonder heavens
Immovably have stood
For thousands of years, regarding
Each other in sad loving mood.
Immovably have stood
For thousands of years, regarding
Each other in sad loving mood.
They speak a mysterious language
That’s rich and sweet to the ear;
Yet no philologist living
Can make its meaning clear.
That’s rich and sweet to the ear;
Yet no philologist living
Can make its meaning clear.
But I’ve learnt it, and ne’er will forget it,
Whatever the time and place;
As my grammar I used for the purpose
My own dear mistress’s face.
Whatever the time and place;
As my grammar I used for the purpose
My own dear mistress’s face.
9.
On song’s exulting pinion
I’ll bear thee, my sweetheart fair,
Where Ganges holds his dominion,—
The sweetest of spots know I there.
I’ll bear thee, my sweetheart fair,
Where Ganges holds his dominion,—
The sweetest of spots know I there.
There a red blooming garden is lying
In the moonlight silent and clear;
The lotos flowers are sighing
For their sister so pretty and dear
In the moonlight silent and clear;
The lotos flowers are sighing
For their sister so pretty and dear
The violets prattle and titter,
And gaze on the stars high above
The roses mysteriously twitter
Their fragrant stories of love.
And gaze on the stars high above
The roses mysteriously twitter
Their fragrant stories of love.
The gazelles so gentle and clever
Skip lightly in frolicsome mood
And in the distance roars ever
The holy river’s loud flood.
Skip lightly in frolicsome mood
And in the distance roars ever
The holy river’s loud flood.
And there, while joyously sinking
Beneath the palm by the stream,
And love and repose while drinking
Of blissful visions we’ll dream.
Beneath the palm by the stream,
And love and repose while drinking
Of blissful visions we’ll dream.
10.
The lotos flower is troubled
At the sun’s resplendent light
With sunken head and sadly
She dreamily waits for the night.
At the sun’s resplendent light
With sunken head and sadly
She dreamily waits for the night.
The moon appears as her wooer,
She wakes at his fond embrace;
For him she kindly uncovers
Her sweetly flowering face.
She wakes at his fond embrace;
For him she kindly uncovers
Her sweetly flowering face.
She blooms and glows and glistens,
And mutely gazes above;
She weeps and exhales and trembles
With love and the sorrows of love.
And mutely gazes above;
She weeps and exhales and trembles
With love and the sorrows of love.
11.
In the Rhine, that beautiful river,
The sacred town of Cologne,
With its vast cathedral, is ever
Full clearly mirror’d and shown.
The sacred town of Cologne,
With its vast cathedral, is ever
Full clearly mirror’d and shown.
A picture on golden leather
In that fair cathedral is seen;
On my life, so sad altogether,
It hath cast its rays serene.
In that fair cathedral is seen;
On my life, so sad altogether,
It hath cast its rays serene.
The flowers and angels hover
Round our dear Lady there;
Her eyes, lips, cheeks, all over
Resemble my mistress fair.
Round our dear Lady there;
Her eyes, lips, cheeks, all over
Resemble my mistress fair.
12.
Thou lov’st me not, thou tellest me.—
It troubles me but slightly;
But when thy beauteous face I see,
No king’s heart beats more lightly.
It troubles me but slightly;
But when thy beauteous face I see,
No king’s heart beats more lightly.
Thou hatest me, thy red lips say
With well-pretended snarling;
But when sweet kisses they convey,
I’m comforted, my darling.
With well-pretended snarling;
But when sweet kisses they convey,
I’m comforted, my darling.
13.
Full lovingly thou must embrace me,
My mistress beauteous and sweet!
With pliant form interlace me,
And with thine arms and thy feet.
My mistress beauteous and sweet!
With pliant form interlace me,
And with thine arms and thy feet.
The fairest of snakes e’er created
With vigour encircles anon,
And clasps and twines round the elated
And happy Laocoon.
With vigour encircles anon,
And clasps and twines round the elated
And happy Laocoon.
14.
Now then, my loved one, swear away!
I’ll credit all that thou dost say;
And when I sink upon thy breast,
I’ll think that I am truly blest;
I’ll think that, love, eternally
And even longer, thou’lt love me.
I’ll credit all that thou dost say;
And when I sink upon thy breast,
I’ll think that I am truly blest;
I’ll think that, love, eternally
And even longer, thou’lt love me.
15.
Upon my mistress’s eyes so clear
I write the fairest cantatas;
Upon my mistress’s mouth sincere
I write the best of terzinas;
Upon my mistress’s cheeks so dear
I write the cleverest stanzas;
And had my mistress a heart, upon it
I soon would write a charming sonnet.
I write the fairest cantatas;
Upon my mistress’s mouth sincere
I write the best of terzinas;
Upon my mistress’s cheeks so dear
I write the cleverest stanzas;
And had my mistress a heart, upon it
I soon would write a charming sonnet.
16.
The world’s an ass, the world can’t see,
And grows more stupid daily:
It says, my darling child, of thee,—
Thou livest far too gaily.
And grows more stupid daily:
It says, my darling child, of thee,—
Thou livest far too gaily.
The world’s an ass, the world can’t see,
Thy character not knowing;
It knows not how sweet thy kisses be,
How rapturously glowing.
Thy character not knowing;
It knows not how sweet thy kisses be,
How rapturously glowing.
17.
Loved one—gladly would I know it,—
Art thou but a vision fair,
Such as in his brain the poet
Loves in summer to prepare?
Art thou but a vision fair,
Such as in his brain the poet
Loves in summer to prepare?
No! such eyes of magic splendour,
Lips so rosy and so warm,
Such a child, so sweet and tender,
Never did the poet form.
Lips so rosy and so warm,
Such a child, so sweet and tender,
Never did the poet form.
Basilisks and vampires gory,
Dragons, monsters of the earth,
Suchlike evil beasts of story
In the poet’s fire have birth.
Dragons, monsters of the earth,
Suchlike evil beasts of story
In the poet’s fire have birth.
But thyself, thy wiles insidious,
And thy face, so sweet and staid,
And thy kindly looks perfidious,—
These the poet never made.
And thy face, so sweet and staid,
And thy kindly looks perfidious,—
These the poet never made.
18.
Gleams my love in beauty’s splendour,
Like the child of ocean foam;
As his bride my mistress tender
Is a stranger taking home.
Like the child of ocean foam;
As his bride my mistress tender
Is a stranger taking home.
Though ’tis treason, don’t abuse it,
Heart, thou much-enduring one!
Bear it, bear it, and excuse it,
What the beauteous fool hath done.
Heart, thou much-enduring one!
Bear it, bear it, and excuse it,
What the beauteous fool hath done.
19.
I’ll not be angry, though my heart should break,
Evermore lost one! no complaint I’ll make.
Though thou may’st sparkle ’neath thy diamonds bright,
No ray can pierce thy heart’s unceasing night.
Evermore lost one! no complaint I’ll make.
Though thou may’st sparkle ’neath thy diamonds bright,
No ray can pierce thy heart’s unceasing night.
I’ve known it long. In vision saw I thee,
How night thy heart doth fill unceasingly,
And how the serpent at thy heart doth gnaw,—
How wretched, love, thou art, too well I saw.
How night thy heart doth fill unceasingly,
And how the serpent at thy heart doth gnaw,—
How wretched, love, thou art, too well I saw.
20.
Thou’rt wretched, yes!—but no complaint I’ll make;—
My love, we both, alas, must wretched be!
Till death our poor afflicted hearts doth break,
My love, we both, alas, must wretched be!
My love, we both, alas, must wretched be!
Till death our poor afflicted hearts doth break,
My love, we both, alas, must wretched be!
I see the scorn that round thy mouth doth play,
I see thine eyes that glance so haughtily,
I see the pride that doth thy bosom sway,—
Yet thou art wretched, wretched e’en as I.
I see thine eyes that glance so haughtily,
I see the pride that doth thy bosom sway,—
Yet thou art wretched, wretched e’en as I.
Grief lurks around thy mouth, unseen indeed,
With hidden tears thine eyes can scarcely see,
And secret wounds on thy proud bosom feed—
My love, we both, alas, must wretched be!
With hidden tears thine eyes can scarcely see,
And secret wounds on thy proud bosom feed—
My love, we both, alas, must wretched be!
21.
The flutes and fiddles are sounding,
The trumpets ringing clear;
In the wedding dance is bounding
My heart’s own mistress dear.
The trumpets ringing clear;
In the wedding dance is bounding
My heart’s own mistress dear.
The shawms and kettle-drums vying
In noisy chorus I hear;
But meanwhile good angels are sighing
And weeping many a tear.
In noisy chorus I hear;
But meanwhile good angels are sighing
And weeping many a tear.
22.
Thou scarcely could’st have forgotten it faster,
That I of thine heart so long was the master;
Thine heart so false, so small, and so sweet,
A sweeter and falser I never shall meet.
That I of thine heart so long was the master;
Thine heart so false, so small, and so sweet,
A sweeter and falser I never shall meet.
Thou now hast forgotten the love and disaster
That made my heart throb all the faster;
I know not if love was the greatest, or woe;
That both were great, full well I know.
That made my heart throb all the faster;
I know not if love was the greatest, or woe;
That both were great, full well I know.
23.
O if the tiny flowers
But knew of my wounded heart,
Their tears, like mine, in showers
Would fall, to cure the smart.
But knew of my wounded heart,
Their tears, like mine, in showers
Would fall, to cure the smart.
If knew the nightingales only
That I’m so mournful and sad,
They would cheer my misery lonely
With their notes so tuneful and glad.
That I’m so mournful and sad,
They would cheer my misery lonely
With their notes so tuneful and glad.
If the golden stars high o’er us
But knew of my bitter woe,
They would speak words of comfort in chorus,
Descending hither below.
But knew of my bitter woe,
They would speak words of comfort in chorus,
Descending hither below.
Not one of these can allay it,
One only knows of my smart;
’Tis she, I grieve to say it,
Who thus hath wounded my heart.
One only knows of my smart;
’Tis she, I grieve to say it,
Who thus hath wounded my heart.
24.
O why have the roses lost their hue,
Sweet love, O tell me why?
Why mutely thus do the violets blue
In the verdant meadows sigh?
Sweet love, O tell me why?
Why mutely thus do the violets blue
In the verdant meadows sigh?
O why doth the lark up high in the air
With a voice so mournful sing?
O why doth each fragrant floweret fair
Exhale like a poisonous thing?
With a voice so mournful sing?
O why doth each fragrant floweret fair
Exhale like a poisonous thing?
O wherefore looks the sun to-day
On the fields, so full of gloom?
O why doth the earth appear so grey,
And dreary as a tomb?
On the fields, so full of gloom?
O why doth the earth appear so grey,
And dreary as a tomb?
Why feel I myself so mournful and weak,—
Sweet love, I put it to thee?
My own sweet darling, sweet love, O speak,—
O wherefore leavest thou me?
Sweet love, I put it to thee?
My own sweet darling, sweet love, O speak,—
O wherefore leavest thou me?
25.
For thine ear many tales they invented,
And loud complaints preferred;
But how my soul was tormented,
Of this they said not a word.
And loud complaints preferred;
But how my soul was tormented,
Of this they said not a word.
They prated of mischief and evil,
And mournfully shook their head;
They liken’d poor me to the devil,
And thou didst believe what they said.
And mournfully shook their head;
They liken’d poor me to the devil,
And thou didst believe what they said.
But, O; the worst and the saddest,
Of this they nothing knew;
The saddest and the maddest
In my heart was hidden from view.
Of this they nothing knew;
The saddest and the maddest
In my heart was hidden from view.
26.
The linden blossom’d, the nightingale sung,
The sun was laughing with radiance bright;
Thou kissed’st me then, while thine arm round me clung,
To thy heaving bosom thou pressed’st me tight.
The sun was laughing with radiance bright;
Thou kissed’st me then, while thine arm round me clung,
To thy heaving bosom thou pressed’st me tight.
The raven was screeching, the leaves fast fell,
The sun gazed cheerlessly down on the sight;
We coldly said to each other “Farewell!”
Thou politely didst make me a curtsey polite.
The sun gazed cheerlessly down on the sight;
We coldly said to each other “Farewell!”
Thou politely didst make me a curtsey polite.
27.
We have felt for each other emotions soft,
And yet our tempers always were matching,
At “man and wife” we have play’d full oft,
And yet ne’er took to fighting and scratching.
We have shouted together, together been gay,
And tenderly kiss’d and fondled away.
At last we play’d in forest and dell
At hide and seek, like sister and brother.
And managed to hide ourselves so well,
That never since then have we seen each other.
And yet our tempers always were matching,
At “man and wife” we have play’d full oft,
And yet ne’er took to fighting and scratching.
We have shouted together, together been gay,
And tenderly kiss’d and fondled away.
At last we play’d in forest and dell
At hide and seek, like sister and brother.
And managed to hide ourselves so well,
That never since then have we seen each other.
28.
I’ve no belief in the heavens
Of which the parsons rave;
In thine eyes believe I only,
In their heavenly light I lave.
Of which the parsons rave;
In thine eyes believe I only,
In their heavenly light I lave.
I’ve no belief in the Maker
Of whom the parsons rave;
In thine heart believe I only,
No other God will I have.
Of whom the parsons rave;
In thine heart believe I only,
No other God will I have.
I’ve no belief in the devil,
In hell or the pains of hell;
In thine eyes believe I only,
And thine evil heart as well.
In hell or the pains of hell;
In thine eyes believe I only,
And thine evil heart as well.
29.
To me thou wert faithful and steady,
And madest for me supplication;
In my troubles and sad tribulation
Thy comfort always was ready.
And madest for me supplication;
In my troubles and sad tribulation
Thy comfort always was ready.
Food and drink thou gav’st me in payment,
And plenty of money didst lend me,
And also a passport didst send me,
As well as some changes of raiment.
And plenty of money didst lend me,
And also a passport didst send me,
As well as some changes of raiment.
From heat and from coldness unpleasant
May heaven, my dear one, long guard thee,
And may it never reward thee
The kindness shown me at present!
May heaven, my dear one, long guard thee,
And may it never reward thee
The kindness shown me at present!
30.
The earth had long been avaricious,
But May, when she came, gave with great prodigality,
And all things now smile with rapture delicious,
But I for laughter have no partiality.
But May, when she came, gave with great prodigality,
And all things now smile with rapture delicious,
But I for laughter have no partiality.
The blue bells are ringing, their beauty displaying,
The birds, as in fables, talk sentimentality;
I take no pleasure in all they are saying,
And I am quite wretched in sober reality.
The birds, as in fables, talk sentimentality;
I take no pleasure in all they are saying,
And I am quite wretched in sober reality.
All men I detest, and now cannot meet one,
Not even my friend, with the least cordiality,
And this all because my amiable sweet one
They “madam” entitle, with chilling formality.
Not even my friend, with the least cordiality,
And this all because my amiable sweet one
They “madam” entitle, with chilling formality.
31.
And when I so long, so long had delay’d,
In foreign lands had in reveries stay’d,
My loved one found it too long to wait,
And sew’d herself a wedding-dress straight,
And then embraced in her arms, willy-nilly,
As bridegroom, the youth in the world the most silly.
In foreign lands had in reveries stay’d,
My loved one found it too long to wait,
And sew’d herself a wedding-dress straight,
And then embraced in her arms, willy-nilly,
As bridegroom, the youth in the world the most silly.
My loved one is so beauteous and soft,
Before me still hovers her image oft;
Her rosy cheeks, her violet eyes
That all the year round glow bright as the skies.
That I could fly from such charming attractions
Was the silliest far of my silliest actions.
Before me still hovers her image oft;
Her rosy cheeks, her violet eyes
That all the year round glow bright as the skies.
That I could fly from such charming attractions
Was the silliest far of my silliest actions.
32.
The lovely eyes of violet blue,
The beauteous cheeks of rosy hue,
The hands so like white lilies too,—
All these still sweetly blossom and bloom,
The heart alone is cold as the tomb.
The beauteous cheeks of rosy hue,
The hands so like white lilies too,—
All these still sweetly blossom and bloom,
The heart alone is cold as the tomb.
33.
The earth is so fair, and the heavens so bright,
The breezes are breathing with soothing might
The blooming fields with flowers are dight,
In the morning dew all radiant with light,
All men are rejoicing that meet my sight—
My bed in the grave I fain would be pressing,
The corpse of my mistress dear caressing.
The breezes are breathing with soothing might
The blooming fields with flowers are dight,
In the morning dew all radiant with light,
All men are rejoicing that meet my sight—
My bed in the grave I fain would be pressing,
The corpse of my mistress dear caressing.
34.
When in the tomb, my mistress fair,
The chilly tomb, thou must hide thee.
I’ll soon descend to rejoin thee there,
And fondly nestle beside thee.
The chilly tomb, thou must hide thee.
I’ll soon descend to rejoin thee there,
And fondly nestle beside thee.
I wildly will press thee, embrace thee, and kiss
My pale, cold, fearful-to-see love!
I’ll tremble, weep, shout with rapturous bliss,
And soon be a corpse like thee, love.
My pale, cold, fearful-to-see love!
I’ll tremble, weep, shout with rapturous bliss,
And soon be a corpse like thee, love.
The dead will arise, when midnight is nigh,
And dance in airy troops lightly;
But we in the tomb will quietly lie,
Thine arms embracing me tightly.
And dance in airy troops lightly;
But we in the tomb will quietly lie,
Thine arms embracing me tightly.
The dead will arise, when the loud trump of doom
To bliss or to torment is calling;
But regardless of all, we’ll remain in the tomb,
Still clasp’d in embraces enthralling.
To bliss or to torment is calling;
But regardless of all, we’ll remain in the tomb,
Still clasp’d in embraces enthralling.
35.
A lonely fir tree is standing
On a northern barren height;
It sleeps, and the ice and snow-drift
Cast round it a garment of white.
On a northern barren height;
It sleeps, and the ice and snow-drift
Cast round it a garment of white.
It dreams of a slender palm-tree,
Which far in the Eastern land
Beside a precipice scorching
In silent sorrow doth stand.
Which far in the Eastern land
Beside a precipice scorching
In silent sorrow doth stand.
36.
Fair, bright, golden constellation,
Seek my love’s far habitation;
Tell her that I still am true,
Sick at heart and palefaced too.
Seek my love’s far habitation;
Tell her that I still am true,
Sick at heart and palefaced too.
37.
(The head speaks.)
Ah, were I but the footstool e’en
On which my loved one’s foot doth rest,
I ne’er to grumble should be seen,
However hard I might be press’d.
On which my loved one’s foot doth rest,
I ne’er to grumble should be seen,
However hard I might be press’d.
(The heart speaks.)
Ah, were I but the cushion soft
Wherein her pins she’s wont to stick,
And ’twere her will to prick me oft,
I should rejoice at every prick.
Wherein her pins she’s wont to stick,
And ’twere her will to prick me oft,
I should rejoice at every prick.
(The song speaks.)
Ah, were I but the paper dear
Wherewith she’s wont her hair to curl,
I’d gently whisper in her ear
The thoughts that in me live and whirl.
Wherewith she’s wont her hair to curl,
I’d gently whisper in her ear
The thoughts that in me live and whirl.
38.
Since my darling one has left me,
Power of laughing is bereft me;
Blockheads fain would raise a joke,
But no laughter can provoke.
Power of laughing is bereft me;
Blockheads fain would raise a joke,
But no laughter can provoke.
Since I’ve lost my darling one,
Power of weeping, too, is gone;
Though my heart with sorrow deep
Wellnigh breaks, I cannot weep.
Power of weeping, too, is gone;
Though my heart with sorrow deep
Wellnigh breaks, I cannot weep.