The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume V Part 18

A bullet flies toward us us-- "Is that for me or thee?"

It struck him, pa.s.sing o'er me; I see his corpse before me As 'twere a part of me!

And still, while I am loading, His outstretched hand I view; "Not now--awhile we sever; But, when we live forever, Be still my comrade true!"

THE WHITE HART[25] (1811)

Three huntsmen forth to the greenwood went; To hunt the white hart was their intent.

They laid them under a green fir-tree, And a singular vision befell those three.

THE FIRST HUNTSMAN

I dreamt I arose and beat on the bush, When forth came rus.h.i.+ng the stag--hush, hus.h.!.+

THE SECOND

As with baying of hound he came rus.h.i.+ng along, I fired my gun at his hide--bing, bang!

THE THIRD

And when the stag on the ground I saw, I merrily wound my horn--trara!

Conversing thus did the huntsmen lie, When lo! the white hart came bounding by;

And before the huntsmen had noted him well, He was up and away over mountain and dell!-- Hush, hus.h.!.+--bing, bang!--trara!

THE LOST CHURCH[26] (1812)

When one into the forest goes, A music sweet the spirit blesses; But whence it cometh no one knows, Nor common rumor even guesses.

From the lost Church those strains must swell That come on all the winds resounding; The path to it now none can tell, That path with pilgrims once abounding.

As lately, in the forest, where No beaten path could be discover'd, All lost in thought, I wander'd far, Upward to G.o.d my spirit hover'd.

When all was silent round me there, Then in my ears that music sounded; The higher, purer, rose my prayer, The nearer, fuller, it resounded.

Upon my heart such peace there fell, Those strains with all my thoughts so blended, That how it was I cannot tell That I so high that hour ascended.

It seem'd a hundred years and more That I had been thus lost in dreaming, When, all earth's vapors op'ning o'er, A free large place stood, brightly beaming.

The sky it was so blue and bland, The sun it was so full and glowing, As rose a minster vast and grand, The golden light all round it flowing.

The clouds on which it rested seem'd To bear it up like wings of fire; Piercing the heavens, so I dream'd, Sublimely rose its lofty spire.

The bell--what music from it roll'd!

Shook, as it peal'd, the trembling tower; Rung by no mortal hand, but toll'd By some unseen, unearthly power.

The selfsame power from Heaven thrill'd My being to its utmost centre, As, all with fear and gladness fill'd, Beneath the lofty dome I enter.

I stood within the solemn pile-- Words cannot tell with what amazement, As saints and martyrs seem'd to smile Down on me from each gorgeous cas.e.m.e.nt.

I saw the picture grow alive, And I beheld a world of glory, Where sainted men and women strive And act again their G.o.dlike story.

Before the altar knelt I low-- Love and devotion only feeling, While Heaven's glory seem'd to glow, Depicted on the lofty ceiling.

Yet when again I upward gazed, The mighty dome in twain was shaken, And Heaven's gate wide open blazed, And every veil away was taken.

What majesty I then beheld, My heart with adoration swelling; What music all my senses fill'd, Beyond the organ's power of telling, In words can never be exprest; Yet for that bliss who longs sincerely, O let him to the music list, That in the forest soundeth clearly!

CHARLEMAGNE'S VOYAGE[27] (1812)

With comrades twelve upon the main King Charles set out to sail.

The Holy Land he hoped to gain, But drifted in a gale.

Then spake Sir Roland, hero brave: "Well I can fight and s.h.i.+eld; Yet neither stormy wind nor wave Will to my weapon yield."

Sir Holger spoke, from Denmark's strand: "The harp I feign would play; But what avails the music bland When tempests roaring sway!"

Sir Oliver was not too glad; Upon his sword he'd stare: "For my own weal 'twere not so bad, I grieve, for good Old Clare."

Said wicked Ganilon with gall (He said it 'neath his breath): "The devil come and take ye all-- Were I but spared this death!"

Archbishop Turpin deeply sighed: "The knights of G.o.d are we.

O come, our Savior, be our guide, And lead us o'er the sea!"

Then spake Sir Richard Fearless stern: "Ye demons there in h.e.l.l, I served ye many a goodly turn, Now serve ye me as well!"

"My counsel often has been heard,"

Sir Naimes did remark.

"Fresh water, though, and helpful word Are rare upon a bark."

Then spake Sir Riol, old and gray: "An aged knight am I; And they shall lay my corpse away Where it is good and dry."

And then Sir Guy began to sing-- He was a courtly knight: "Feign would I have a birdie's wing, And to my love take flight!"

Then Count Garein, the n.o.ble, said: "G.o.d, danger from us keep!

I'd rather drink the wine so red Than water in the deep."

Sir Lambert spake, a sprightly youth: "May G.o.d behold our state!

I'd rather eat good fish, forsooth, Than be myself a bait."

Then quoth Sir Gottfried: "Be it so, I heed not how I fare; Whatever I must undergo, My brothers all would share."

But at the helm King Charles sat by, And never said a word, And steered the s.h.i.+p with steadfast eye Till no more tempest stirred.