The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries - LightNovelsOnl.com
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When I went away, when I went away, Full of joy the world lay there; When I came today, when I came today, All, all was bare.
Still the swallows come, still the swallows come, And the empty chest is filled-- But this longing dumb, but this longing dumb Shall ne'er be stilled.
Nay, no swallow brings, nay, no swallow brings Thee again where thou wast before-- Though the swallow sings, though the swallow sings, Still as of yore.
"When I went away, when I went away, Full coffers and chests were there; When I came today, when I came today, All, all was bare!"
THE SPRING OF LOVE[51] (1821)
Dearest, thy discourses steal From my bosom's deep, my heart How can I from thee conceal My delight, my sorrow's smart?
Dearest, when I hear thy lyre From its chains my soul is free.
To the holy angel quire From the earth, O let us flee!
[Ill.u.s.tration: MEMORIES OF YOUTH]
Dearest, how thy music's charms Waft me dancing through the sky!
Let me round thee clasp my arms, Lest in glory I should die!
Dearest, sunny wreaths I wear, Twined around me by thy lay.
For thy garlands, rich and rare, O how can I thank thee? Say!
Like the angels I would be Without mortal frame, Whose sweet converse is like thought, Sounding with acclaim;
Or like flowers in the dale; Like the stars that glow, Whose love-song's a beam, whose words Like sweet odors flow;
Or like to the breeze of morn, Waving round its rose, In love's dallying caress Melting as it blows.
But the love-lorn nightingale Melteth not away; She doth but with longing tones Chant her plaintive lay.
I am, too, a nightingale, Songless though I sing; 'Tis my pen that speaks, though ne'er In the ear it ring.
Beaming images of thought Doth the pen portray; But without thy gentle smile Lifeless e'er are they.
As thy look falls on the leaf, It begins to sing, And the prize that's due to love In her ear doth ring.
Like a Memmon's statue now Every letter seems, Which in music wakes, when kissed By the morning's beams.
"HE CAME TO MEET ME"[52] (1821)
He came to meet me In rain and thunder; My heart 'gan beating In timid wonder.
Could I guess whither Thenceforth together Our path should run, so long asunder?
He came to meet me In rain and thunder, With guile to cheat me-- My heart to plunder.
Was't mine he captured?
Or his I raptured?
Half-way both met, in bliss and wonder!
He came to meet me In rain and thunder; Spring-blessings greet me Spring-blossoms under.
What though he leave me?
No partings grieve me-- No path can lead our hearts asunder.
THE INVITATION[53] (1821)
Thou, thou art rest And peace of soul-- Thou woundst the breast And makst it whole.
To thee I vow 'Mid joy or pain My heart, where thou Mayst aye remain.
Then enter free, And bar the door To all but thee Forevermore.
All other woes Thy charms shall lull; Of sweet repose This heart be full.
My wors.h.i.+pping eyes Thy presence bright Shall still suffice, Their only light.
MURMUR NOT[54]
Murmur not and say thou art in fetters holden, Murmur not that thou earth's heavy yoke must bear.
Say not that a prison is this world so golden-- 'Tis thy murmurs only set its harsh walls there.
Question not how shall this riddle find its reading; It will solve itself full soon without thine aid.
Say not love hath turned his back, and left thee bleeding-- Whom hath love deserted, hast thou heard it said?
If death tries to fright thee, fear not beyond measure; He will flee from those who boldly face his frown.
Hunt not thou the fleeting deer of worldly pleasure-- Lion it will turn, and hunt the hunter down.
Chain thyself no longer, heart, to any treasure; Then thou shalt not say thou art into fetters thrown.
A PARABLE[55] (1822)
In Syria walked a man one day And led a camel on the way.
A sudden wildness seized the beast, And as they strove its rage increased.
So fearsome grew its savagery That for his life the man must flee.
And as he ran, he spied a cave That one last chance of safety gave.
He heard the snorting beast behind Come nearer--with distracted mind Leaped where the cooling fountain sprang, Yet not to fall, but catch and hang; By lucky hap a bramble wild Grew where the o'erhanging rocks were piled.
He saved himself by this alone, And did his hapless state bemoan.
He looked above, and there was yet Too close the furious camel's threat That still of fearful rage was full.
