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The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 07
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Stay, enchant me with thy might,
Earnest, gentle, dreamy-pinioned,
Sweet, unfathomable night.
With magician's mantle cover
All this day-world from my sight,
That for aye thy form may hover
O'er my being, lovely night.
* * * * *
SEDGE SONGS[16 - Translator: Kate Freiligrath Kroeker. (From A Century of German Lyrics.)] (1832)
I
In the west the sun departing
Leaves the weary day asleep,
And the willows trail their streamers
In these waters still and deep.
Flow, my bitter tears, flow ever;
All I love I leave behind;
Sadly whisper here the willows,
And the reed shakes in the wind.
Into my deep lonely sufferings
Tenderly you shine afar,
As athwart these reeds and rushes
Trembles soft yon evening star.
II
Oft at eve I love to saunter
Where the sedge sighs drearily,
By entangled hidden footpaths,
Love! and then I think of thee.
When the woods gloom dark and darker,
Sedges in the night-wind moan,
Then a faint mysterious wailing
Bids me weep, still weep alone.
And methinks I hear it wafted,
Thy sweet voice, remote yet clear,
Till thy song, descending slowly,
Sinks into the silent mere.
III
Angry sunset sky,
Thunder-clouds o'erhead,
Every breeze doth fly,
Sultry air and dead.
From the lurid storm
Pallid lightnings break,
Their swift transient form
Flashes through the lake.
And I seem to see
Thyself, wondrous nigh—
Streaming wild and free
Thy long tresses fly.
* * * * *
SONGS BY THE LAKE[17 - Translator: Charles Wharton Stork.] (1832)
I
In the sky the sun is failing,
And the weary day would sleep,
Here the willow fronds are trailing
In the water still and deep.
From my darling I must sever:
Stream, oh tears, stream forth amain!
In the breeze the rushes quiver
And the willow sighs in pain.
On my soul in silence grieving
Mild thou gleamest from afar,
As through rushes interweaving
Gleams the mirrored evening star.
IV
Sunset dull and drear;
Dark the clouds drive past;
Sultry, full of fear,
All the winds fly fast.
Through the sky's wild rack
Shoots the lightning pale;
O'er the waters black
Burns its flickering trail.
In the vivid glare
Half I see thy form,
And thy streaming hair
Earnest, gentle, dreamy-pinioned,
Sweet, unfathomable night.
With magician's mantle cover
All this day-world from my sight,
That for aye thy form may hover
O'er my being, lovely night.
* * * * *
SEDGE SONGS[16 - Translator: Kate Freiligrath Kroeker. (From A Century of German Lyrics.)] (1832)
I
In the west the sun departing
Leaves the weary day asleep,
And the willows trail their streamers
In these waters still and deep.
Flow, my bitter tears, flow ever;
All I love I leave behind;
Sadly whisper here the willows,
And the reed shakes in the wind.
Into my deep lonely sufferings
Tenderly you shine afar,
As athwart these reeds and rushes
Trembles soft yon evening star.
II
Oft at eve I love to saunter
Where the sedge sighs drearily,
By entangled hidden footpaths,
Love! and then I think of thee.
When the woods gloom dark and darker,
Sedges in the night-wind moan,
Then a faint mysterious wailing
Bids me weep, still weep alone.
And methinks I hear it wafted,
Thy sweet voice, remote yet clear,
Till thy song, descending slowly,
Sinks into the silent mere.
III
Angry sunset sky,
Thunder-clouds o'erhead,
Every breeze doth fly,
Sultry air and dead.
From the lurid storm
Pallid lightnings break,
Their swift transient form
Flashes through the lake.
And I seem to see
Thyself, wondrous nigh—
Streaming wild and free
Thy long tresses fly.
* * * * *
SONGS BY THE LAKE[17 - Translator: Charles Wharton Stork.] (1832)
I
In the sky the sun is failing,
And the weary day would sleep,
Here the willow fronds are trailing
In the water still and deep.
From my darling I must sever:
Stream, oh tears, stream forth amain!
In the breeze the rushes quiver
And the willow sighs in pain.
On my soul in silence grieving
Mild thou gleamest from afar,
As through rushes interweaving
Gleams the mirrored evening star.
IV
Sunset dull and drear;
Dark the clouds drive past;
Sultry, full of fear,
All the winds fly fast.
Through the sky's wild rack
Shoots the lightning pale;
O'er the waters black
Burns its flickering trail.
In the vivid glare
Half I see thy form,
And thy streaming hair
