In vision saw I my loved one
 A worn, sad woman one day;
 Her once so-blooming figure
 Had wither’d and fallen away.
A child in her arms she carried,
 By the hand another she led,
 And grief and poverty plainly
 In her walk, looks, and garments I read.
Across the market she totter’d,
 And then did I meet her eye;
 She looked upon me, and gently
 I spake to her thus, with a sigh:
“Come with me to my dwelling,
 “For thou art pale and ill,
 “And food and drink I’ll earn thee
 “By industry and skill.
“I’ll also nourish and cherish
 “The children that with thee I see;
 “But, my child so poor and unhappy,
 “I’ll care the most for thee.
“I never will remind thee
 “That I loved thee so dearly of yore,
 “And when at length thou diest,
 “I’ll weep at thy grave full sore.”

44.

“Friend! why always thus endeavour
 “To repeat the same old story?
 “Wilt thou brooding sit for ever
 “On love’s eggs grown old and hoary?
“Ah! ’tis but the usual custom,
 “Chickens from the shells are crawling;
 “In a book thou seek’st to thrust ’em,
 “While they’re fluttering and calling!”

45.

Prythee, be not thou impatient
 If there still are loudly ringing
 Many of my old sad numbers
 In the newest songs I’m singing.
Wait awhile, and soon the echo
 Will have died away of sorrow,
 And a new-born song-spring softly
 From the heal’d heart shoot to-morrow.

46.

’Tis now full time that my folly I drop,
 And return to sober reason;
 This comedy now ’twere better to stop
 That we’ve played for so long a season.
In a gay and highly romantic style
 The gorgeous coulisses were painted;
 My knight’s cloak glitter’d, while I was the while
 With the finest sensations acquainted.
And now that I, while more sober I grow,
 Am against this toying inveighing,
 I feel that I’m still as wretched as though
 A comedy still I were playing.
Alas! unconsciously and in jest
 Of my feelings was I the narrator;
 And I’ve play’d, with my own death in my breast,
 The dying gladiator.

47.

The monarch Wiswamitra,
 Is restlessly striving now;
 He must needs, by fighting and penance,
 Obtain Wasischta’s cow.
O monarch Wiswamitra,
 O what an ox art thou,
 To have all this fighting and penance,
 And all for nought but a cow!

48.

Let not grief, my heart, come o’er thee
 Bear thy lot with faith unshaken,
 For what winter may have taken
 Will returning spring restore thee.
And how much remaineth over!
 And how fair the world is still!
 And, my heart, if ’tis thy will,
 Thou of All mayst be the lover!

49.

A flow’ret thou resemblest,
 So pure and fair and blest;
 But when I view thee, sorrow
 Straight creepeth to my breast.
I feel as though inspired
 My hands on thy head to lay,
 And pray that God may keep thee
 So blest, fair, pure, for aye.

50.

Child! it would be thy perdition,
 And the greatest pains I’ve taken
 Ne’er within thy fond heart tow’rd me
 Loving feelings to awaken.
Now that I’ve so soon succeeded,
 To my vow I’m wellnigh faithless,
 And this thought steals o’er me often:
 Would that thou could’st love me nathless.

51.

When on my couch I’m lying
 In night and pillows conceal’d,
 A sweet and charming image
 Before me stands reveal’d.
As soon as silent slumber
 Hath closed mine eyes in sleep,
 Into my dream this image
 Doth softly, gently creep.
Yet with the dream of morning
 It ne’er doth melt away,
 For in mine inmost bosom
 I bear it all the day.

52.

Maiden with the mouth so rosy,
 With the eyes so sweet and bright,
 O my darling little maiden,
 I of thee think day and night.
Long is now the winter evening,
 Fain would I disperse its gloom,
 Sitting by thee, talking with thee
 In thy trusty little room.
To my lips I’d fain be pressing
 Thy dear little snowy hand,
 With my falling tears caressing
 Thy dear little snowy hand.

53.

Though outside snow-piles are forming,
 Though ’tis hailing, though ’tis storming,
 Rattling ’gainst the window-pane,
 Nevermore will I complain,
 For within my breast I bear
 Spring-joys and love’s image fair.

54.

Some make prayers to the Madonna,
 Others unto Paul and Peter;
 Thee alone, of suns the fairest,
 Thee alone will I e’er honour.
Let me be with kisses laden,
 Be thou kindly, be thou gracious,
 ’Mongst all maidens sun the fairest,
 ’Neath the sun the fairest maiden!

55.

Did not my pallid face betray
 My loving woe unto thee?
 And wilt thou that my haughty mouth
 With begging words shall woo thee?
Alas! this mouth is far too proud,
 ’Twas made but for kissing and sighing;
 Perchance it may speak a scornful word,
 While I with sorrow am dying.

56.

Worthy friend, thou’rt deep in love,
 And beneath new pangs thou’rt fretting;
 Darker grows it in thy head,
 In thy heart ’tis lighter getting.
Worthy friend, thou’rt deep in love,
 And thou fain would’st hide thy yearning
 Yet I see thy heart’s fierce glow
 Through thy waistcoat hotly burning.

57.

I fain would linger by thee,
 And rest beside thee too;
 Away thou needs must hie thee,
 Thou hast so much to do.
I said that I surrender’d
 My very soul to thee;
 An answering bow was tender’d,
 Thou laughedst full of glee.
Thou cruelly didst use me,
 And treat my love amiss;
 At last thou didst refuse me
 The usual parting kiss.
Don’t think that I deem it my duty
 To shoot myself any the more;
 For all of this, my beauty,
 Has happen’d to me before.

58.

A pair of sapphires are thine eyes,
 So clear, so sweetly roving;
 O three times happy is the man
 Whom those fair eyes are loving.
Thy heart, it is a diamond,
 A sparkling radiance throwing;
 O three times happy is the man
 For whom with love ’tis glowing.
Thy lips are very rubies bright,
 One never can see fairer;
 O three times happy is the man
 Who of their love is sharer.
O did I know the happy man!
 O could I unattended
 Within the green wood meet with him,—
 His luck would soon be ended!

59.

While with loving words, but lying,
 I have bound me to thy breast,
 Now in my own fetters dying,
 Into earnest turns my jest.
When thou jestingly dost fly me,
 By a rightful impulse led,
 Then the powers of hell draw nigh me,
 And I really shoot me dead.

60.

Too fragmentary is World and Life;
 I’ll go to the German professor, who’s rife
 With schemes for putting Life’s pieces together,
 Whereby a passable System’s unfurl’d;
 Ragged nightcaps and dressing-gowns keep out the weather,
 Stop the gaps in the edifice crack’d of the world.

61.

This evening they’ve a party,
 The house is fill’d with light;
 By yonder shining window
 A shadowy form’s in sight.
Thou see’st me not, in darkness
 I stand below and apart;
 Still less canst thou see ever
 Inside my darksome heart.
My darksome heart doth love thee,
 It loves thee and it breaks,
 And breaks, and bleeds, and quivers,
 But thou see’st not how it aches.

62.

I would that my woes all their fulness
 In one single word could convey;
 To the merry winds straight would I give it,
 Who would merrily bear it away.
That word so teeming with sadness
 They would carry, my loved one, to thee
 Thou wouldst hear it at every moment,
 Wouldst hear it where’er thou mightst be.
As soon as thine eyelids at nighttime
 Are peacefully closèd in sleep,
 My word would straightway pursue thee
 Far into thy visions most deep.

63.

Thou hast pearls, thou hast diamonds also,
 Hast all that mortals adore;
 Thine eyes are among the fairest,—
 My loved one, what wouldst thou have more?
Upon thine eyes so beauteous
 I’ve written many a score
 Of sweet immortal ballads,—
 My loved one, what wouldst thou have more?
And with thine eyes so beauteous
 Hast thou tormented me sore,
 And brought me to utter perdition,—
 My loved one, what wouldst thou have more?

64.

He who for the first time loveth,
 Though ’tis hopeless, is a God;
 But the man who hopeless loveth
 For the second time’s—a fool.
I, a fool like this, am loving
 Once more, with no love responsive;
 Sun and moon and stars are laughing,
 I, too, join the laugh and—die.

65.

Never match’d the timid coldness
 Of thy spirit, from the first,
 With my love’s untutor’d boldness,
 Which through rocks delights to burst.
Thou in love dost love the highway,
 And I see thee walk through life
 With thy husband taking thy way,
 As an honest teeming wife!

66.

Counsel they gave me, and good instruction,
 Pour’d on me honours, by way of seduction
 Said I had only to wait for a while,
 And their protection upon me should smile.
Spite the protection they bid me hold cherish’d,
 I before long should of hunger have perish’d,
 Had I not happen’d a good man to see,
 Who took an interest kindly in me.
Good man indeed! for he gives me my food;
 Never can I forget conduct so good.
 Pity I cannot with kisses reply,
 For the good man is no other than—I!

67.

This young man, so good and worthy,
 Cannot be too much respected;
 Oft he gives me wine and oysters,
 Gives me liquors well selected.
Coat and trousers fit him neatly,
 His cravat is still more sightly;
 And so comes he every morning
 For my health to ask politely.
Of my wide-spread glory speaks he,
 Of my talents and my graces;
 Eagerly at my disposal
 All his services he places.
And in company at evening,
 With a face as if inspired
 He declaims before the ladies
 All my poems so admired.
O it is indeed most pleasant
 Such a young man to discover
 In the present day, when surely
 All things good will soon be over.

68.

I dreamt that I was Lord of all,
 And sat in heaven proudly;
 The angels, ranged around my throne,
 All praised my verses loudly.
And cakes I ate, and comfits too,
 In value many a florin;
 And Cardinal I drank the while,
 And had no need of scorin’.
Plagued by ennui, I long’d to be
 On earth, with all its evil;
 And were I not the Lord of all,
 I’d fain have been the devil.
Thou long-legg’d Angel, Gabriel, go,
 And hasten downward thither,
 And find my worthy friend Eugene,
 And bring him to me hither.
Within the College seek him not,
 But o’er a glass of brandy;
 Seek for him not in Hedwig’s Church,
 But at Miss Meyer’s so handy.
The Angel then spread out his wings,
 And with his whole soul in it
 Flew down, and seized my worthy friend,
 And brought him in a minute.
Ay, youth, I am the Lord of all,
 And rule o’er every nation;
 I always told thee I should come
 To power and reputation.
Each day I work such miracles
 As greatly would delight thee;
 The town of A—— I’ll happy make
 To-day, and so excite thee.
The paving-stones upon the road
 Shall all be now converted,
 And, lo, an oyster, fresh and clear,
 In each shall be inserted.
A constant shower of lemon-juice
 Like dew, shall serve as pickle,
 And in the gutters of the streets
 The finest wine shall trickle.
How all the A—er’s straight rejoice,
 And to the banquet hasten!
 The judges from the gutter drink
 As if it were a basin.
And how at this divine repast
 Rejoice the poets needy!
 Lieutenants lick the streets quite dry,
 And ensigns poor and greedy.
The ensigns and lieutenants are
 Wise in their generation;
 They always think the present time
 The weightiest in creation.

69.

From beauteous lips compell’d to part, and carried
 Away from beauteous arms fast clasp’d around me,
 Yet one more day I gladly would have tarried,
 When came the post-boy with his steeds, and found me.
Child, this is very life, an endless wailing,
 An endless farewell-taking, endless parting;
 Is then thy heart to clasp mine unavailing?
 Could not thine eye retain me, e’en at starting?

70.

We travelled alone in the gloomy
 Post-chaise the whole of the night;
 Each lean’d on the other’s bosom,
 And jested with hearts so light.
When morning dawn’d upon us,
 My child, how we did stare,
 For the blind passenger,[24] Amor,
 Was sitting between us there!

71.

Heaven knows where the haughty hussy
 May have will’d to pitch her tent;
 Swearing, with the rain fast falling,
 All the city through I went.
From one tavern to another
 Ran I swiftly in the rain,
 And to every surly waiter
 Did I turn myself in vain.
Then I saw her at a window,
 Nodding, tittering as well:
 Could I tell that thou wouldst live in,
 Maiden, such a grand hotel?

72.

Like darkling visions the houses
 Are standing all in a row;
 Deep hidden in my mantle,
 In silence I onward go.
The high cathedral tower
 The hour of twelve doth proclaim:
 My love, with her charms and kisses,
 Awaits me with rapturous flame.
The moon is my attendant,
 And kindly gleams in the sky,
 And when I arrive at her dwelling,
 I joyfully call up on high:
I thank thee, my olden companion,
 That thou hast thus lighted my way;
 I now at length can release thee,
 Light the rest of the world now, I pray
And find’st thou some mortal enamour’d,
 In solitude mourning his fate,
 As me thou of old time didst comfort,
 Him also O comfort thou straight!

73.

O what falsehood lies in kisses!
 In mere show what joy’s convey’d!
 In betrayal, O what bliss is!
 Sweeter still to be betray’d!
Though thou mayst resist me, fairest,
 Yet I know what thou allowest;
 I’ll avow whate’er thou swearest,
 I will swear what thou avowest.

74.

Upon thy snowy bosom
 My head all-softly I lay,
 And secretly can listen
 To what thy heart doth say.
The blue hussars are blowing,
 And riding in at the gate;
 To-morrow my heart-beloved one
 Will surely desert me straight.
If thou wilt desert me to-morrow,
 At least to-day thou art mine,
 And in thine arms so beauteous
 With twofold bliss I’ll recline.

75.

The blue hussars are blowing,
 And riding out at the gate;
 I come then, my loved one, and bring thee
 A nosegay of roses straight.
Those were indeed wild doings,
 Much folk and warlike display!
 By far too many were quarter’d
 Within thy bosom that day.

76.

I in youthful years did languish,
 Suffer’d many a bitter anguish
 From love’s fiery glow.
 Wood is now so dear, the fire
 Will for lack of fuel expire—
 Ma foi! ’tis better so.
Think of this, O youthful fair one!
 Chase away the tears that wear one,
 And all foolish love’s alarms;
 If thy life may not have perish’d,
 O forget thy love once cherish’d—
 Ma foi! within my arms.

77.

The eunuchs controverted,
 When I raised up my voice;
 They grumbled and asserted
 My singing was not choice.
And then they all raised sweetly
 Their voicelets petty and shrill;
 They sang so finely and neatly,
 Like crystal sounded their trill.
They sang of love’s fierce yearning,
 Of loving effusions and love,
 To tears the ladies all turning,
 With tunes so adapted to move.

78.

I left you at first in July at the warmest,
 In January now I find you once more;
 In the midst of the heat you then were complaining,
 And now you are cool’d, and cold to the core.
I shall soon leave again, and when next I’m returning
 Neither warm shall I find you, nor yet quite cold;
 I shall walk o’er your grave with silent composure,
 While my own heart within me is wretched and old.

79.

Art thou then indeed so hostile,
 Art thou tow’rds me changed so sadly?
 I by all means shall lament it,
 Thou hast treated me so badly.
O ungrateful lips, how could ye
 Speak with malice cruel-hearted
 Of the man who ofttimes kiss’d you
 Lovingly, in days departed?

80.

Ah! once more the eyes are on me,
 Which did greet me once with gladness,
 And the lips once more address me,
 Which once sweeten’d life’s long sadness.
E’en the voice I hear, whose accents
 Charm’d me, as they sweetly falter’d;
 I alone am not the same one,
 Having home return’d, all-alter’d.
By those arms so white and beauteous
 Lovingly embraced and closely,
 To her heart I now am clinging,
 Dull of feeling and morosely.

81.

On the walls of Salamanca
 Soft refreshing winds are playing;
 There, with my belovèd Donna,
 On a summer’s eve I’m straying.
Round the fair one’s slender body
 Doth my arm with rapture linger,
 And her bosom’s haughty motion
 Feel I with a loving finger.
Yet a whisper fraught with sorrow
 Through the linden trees is moving,
 And, beneath, the dusky millstream
 Murmurs sad dreams, disapproving.
“Ah, Señora! a foreboding
 “Tells me, I shall hence be driven
 “On the walls of Salamanca
 “Ne’er again to walk ’tis given.”

82.

Thy voice and thine eye, when we first saw each other,
 Convinced me thou saw’st me with heart not estranged;
 And had it not been for thy tyrant mother,
 I think that we kisses should straight have exchanged.
To-morrow again I depart from the city,
 And on, in my olden course, wander I;
 At the window my fair one is lurking in pity,
 And friendly greetings I throw up on high.

83.

Over the mountains the sun mounts in splendour,
 Afar sound the bells of the lambs as they stray;
 My loved one, my lamb, my sun bright and tender,
 How gladly once more would I see thee to-day!
I gaze up on high, with looks fond and loving—
 My child, fare thee well, I must wander from thee;
 In vain! for her curtain is still and unmoving—
 She slumbering lieth and dreameth of me.

84.

At Halle, in the market
 Two mighty lions are standing.
 Thou lion-scorn of Halle,
 Methinks they’ve tamed thee finely!
At Halle, in the market,
 A mighty giant’s standing.
 He hath a sword, and moves not,
 He’s turn’d to stone by terror.
At Halle, in the market,
 A mighty church is standing.
 The students of each faction
 Have there a place for praying.

85.

Glimm’ring lies the summer even
 Over wood and verdant meadows,
 And the gold moon, fragrance shedding,
 Gleameth from the azure heaven.
Crickets at the brook with shrillness
 Chirp; there’s motion in the water,
 And the wand’rer hears a splashing,
 And a breathing in the stillness.
Yonder at the lone stream sparkling,
 See, the beauteous elf is bathing;
 Arm and neck, so white and lovely,
 Glisten in the moonbeams darkling.

86.

On the strange roads night is lying,
 Heart is sick and limbs are weary;
 But the moonbeams, softly vying,
 Shed their light like blessings cheery.
Ah, sweet moon! thy radiant splendour
 Scares away each terror nightly;
 All my woes dissolve, and tender
 Dew o’erflows my eyelids lightly.

87.

Death nothing is but cooling night,
 And life is nought but sultry day;
 Darkness draws nigh, I slumber
 Wearied by day’s bright light.
Over my bed ariseth a tree,
 There sings the youthful nightingale;
 She sings of love exulting,
 In dreams ’tis heard by me.

88.

“Say, where is thy beauteous mistress,
 “Whom thou sangest in the hour
 “When thy heart was pierced so strangely
 “By the flames of magic power?”
All those flames are now extinguish’d,
 And my heart is cold and weary,
 And this book’s the urn that holdeth
 My love’s ashes sad and dreary.

89.

Full long have I my head tormented
 With ceaseless thinking, day and night;
 And yet thy darling eyes compel me
 To love thee, in my own despite.
Now stand I, where thine eyes are gleaming,
 Charm’d by their sweet expressive light;
 That I should love again thus deeply
 I scarcely can believe aright.

90.

When thou hast become my wedded wife
 Thy joy shall know no measure;
 Thou’lt live in happiness all thy life,
 In uninterrupted pleasure.
And I will very patient be
 E’en ’neath thy reviling and curses;
 But we must part most certainly
 If thou abusest my verses.

91.

Little by thee comprehended,
 Little knew I thee, good brother;
 When we in the mud descended
 Soon we understood each other.

92.

Near me dwelleth Don Henriques,
 As the “handsome” known and fêted;
 Our apartments are adjoining,
 By a thin wall separated.
Salamanca’s dames are blushing
 As he in the streets is walking
 Rattling spurs, mustachios twirling,
 With his dogs behind him stalking.
But at evening’s silent hour he
 All alone at home is sitting,
 His guitar his fingers twanging,
 Sweet dreams through his fancy flitting.
On the chords with vigour plays he,
 His wild phantasies beginning—
 O it drives me mad to hear him
 Keeping up his wretched dinning.

THE HARTZ-JOURNEY.

1824.

PREFACE.

In black coats and silken stockings,
 White and courtly frills they hide them,
 Gentle speeches and embraces—
 Had they only hearts inside them!
Hearts within the breast, and love, too,
 In the heart, yea, love all-burning;
 Ah! I’m sick of their false prating
 Of love’s sorrows and love’s yearning.
I’ll ascend the distant mountains
 Where the peaceful huts are standing,
 Where the breezes free are blowing,
 And the bosom free’s expanding.
I’ll ascend the distant mountains
 Where the dusky firs are springing,
 And the haughty clouds are roaming,
 Brooks are murmuring, birds are singing.
Fare ye well, ye polish’d chambers,
 Polish’d lords and dames beguiling;
 To the mountains now ascending
 I’ll look down upon you, smiling.

1.