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The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 05
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And gazed upon her with mournful look:
"Alas! fair maiden—didst thou still live,
To thee my love would I henceforth give!"
The second—he lightly replaced the shroud,
Then round he turned him, and wept aloud:
"Thou liest, alas I on thy death-bed here;
I loved thee fondly for many a year!"
The third—he lifted again the veil,
And gently he kissed those lips so pale:
"I love thee now, as I loved of yore,
And thus will I love thee forevermore!"
* * * * *
THE GOOD COMRADE[24 - Translator: W.W. Skeat. From Representative German Poems, Henry Holt & Co., New York.] (1809)
I had a gallant comrade,
No better e'er was tried;
The drum beat loud to battle—
Beside me, to its rattle,
He marched, with equal stride.
A bullet flies toward us us—
"Is that for me or thee?"
It struck him, passing 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 - Translator: H.W. Dulcken. Permission Ward, Lock & Company, Ltd., London.] (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 rushing the stag—hush, hush!
THE SECOND
As with baying of hound he came rushing 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, hush!—bing, bang!—trara!
* * * * *
THE LOST CHURCH[26 - Translator: W.H. Furness.] (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 God 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,
"Alas! fair maiden—didst thou still live,
To thee my love would I henceforth give!"
The second—he lightly replaced the shroud,
Then round he turned him, and wept aloud:
"Thou liest, alas I on thy death-bed here;
I loved thee fondly for many a year!"
The third—he lifted again the veil,
And gently he kissed those lips so pale:
"I love thee now, as I loved of yore,
And thus will I love thee forevermore!"
* * * * *
THE GOOD COMRADE[24 - Translator: W.W. Skeat. From Representative German Poems, Henry Holt & Co., New York.] (1809)
I had a gallant comrade,
No better e'er was tried;
The drum beat loud to battle—
Beside me, to its rattle,
He marched, with equal stride.
A bullet flies toward us us—
"Is that for me or thee?"
It struck him, passing 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 - Translator: H.W. Dulcken. Permission Ward, Lock & Company, Ltd., London.] (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 rushing the stag—hush, hush!
THE SECOND
As with baying of hound he came rushing 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, hush!—bing, bang!—trara!
* * * * *
THE LOST CHURCH[26 - Translator: W.H. Furness.] (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 God 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,
