The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries
Chapter 6 : Peace as its first signal peal it!(_Song of the Bell_--concluding lines).And so it prove

Peace as its first signal peal it!

(_Song of the Bell_--concluding lines).

And so it proved! The nation felt, ere long, That peaceful signal, and, with blessings fraught, A new-born joy appeared; in gladsome song To hail the youthful princely pair we sought; While in the living, ever-swelling throng Mingled the crowds from every region brought, And on the stage, in festal pomp arrayed, The HOMAGE OF THE ARTS[21] we saw displayed.

When, lo! a fearful midnight sound I hear, That with a dull and mournful echo rings.

And can it be that of our friend so dear It tells, to whom each wish so fondly clings?

Shall death o'ercome a life that all revere?

How such a loss to all confusion brings!

How such a parting we must ever rue!

The world is weeping--shall not we weep, too?

He was our own! How social, yet how great Seemed in the light of day his n.o.ble mind!

How was his nature, pleasing yet sedate, Now for glad converse joyously inclined, Then swiftly changing, spirit-fraught elate, Life's plan with deep-felt meaning it designed, Fruitful alike in counsel and in deed!

This have we proved, this tested, in our need.

He was our own! O may that thought so blest O'ercome the voice of wailing and of woe!

He might have sought the Lasting, safe at rest In harbor, when the tempest ceased to blow.

Meanwhile his mighty spirit onward pressed Where goodness, beauty, truth, forever grow; And in his rear, in shadowy outline, lay The vulgar, which we all, alas, obey!

Now doth he deck the garden-turret fair Where the stars' language first illumed his soul, As secretly yet clearly through the air On the eterne, the living sense it stole; And to his own, and our great profit, there Exchangeth to the seasons as they roll; Thus n.o.bly doth he vanquish, with renown, The twilight and the night that weigh us down.

Brighter now glowed his cheek, and still more bright, With that unchanging, ever-youthful glow,-- That courage which o'ercomes, in hard-fought fight, Sooner or later, every earthly foe,-- That faith which, soaring to the realms of light, Now boldly presseth on, now bendeth low, So that the good may work, wax, thrive amain, So that the day the n.o.ble may attain.

Yet, though so skilled, of such transcendent worth, This boarded scaffold doth he not despise; The fate that on its axis turns the earth From day to night, here shows he to our eyes, Raising, through many a work of glorious birth, Art and the artist's fame up toward the skies.

He fills with blossoms of the n.o.blest strife, With life itself, this effigy of life.

His giant-step, as ye full surely know, Measured the circle of the will and deed, Each country's changing thoughts and morals, too, The darksome book with clearness could he read; Yet how he, breathless 'midst his friends so true, Despaired in sorrow, scarce from pain was freed,-- All this have we, in sadly happy years, For he was ours, bewailed with feeling tears.

When from the agonizing weight of grief He raised his eyes upon the world again, We showed him how his thoughts might find relief From the uncertain present's heavy chain, Gave his fresh-kindled mind a respite brief, With kindly skill beguiling every pain, And e'en at eve when setting was his sun, From his wan cheeks a gentle smile we won.

Full early had he read the stern decree, Sorrow and death to him, alas, were known; Ofttimes recovering, now departed he,-- Dread tidings, that our hearts had feared to own!

Yet his transfigured being now can see Itself, e'en here on earth, transfigured grown.

What his own age reproved, and deemed a crime, Hath been enn.o.bled now by death and time.

And many a soul that with him strove in fight, And his great merit grudged to recognize, Now feels the impress of his wondrous might, And in his magic fetters gladly lies; E'en to the highest hath he winged his flight, In close communion linked with all we prize.

Extol him then! What mortals while they live But half receive, posterity shall give.

Thus is he left us, who so long ago,-- Ten years, alas, already!--turned from earth; We all, to our great joy, his precepts know, Oh, may the world confess their priceless worth!

In swelling tide toward every region flow The thoughts that were his own peculiar birth; He gleams like some departing meteor bright, Combining, with his own, eternal light.

ERGO BIBAMUS![22] (1810)

For a praiseworthy object we're now gathered here, So, brethren, sing: ERGO BIBAMUS!

Tho' talk may be hushed, yet the gla.s.ses ring clear, Remember then, ERGO BIBAMUS!

In truth 'tis an old, 'tis an excellent word, With its sound befitting each bosom is stirred, And an echo the festal hall filling is heard, A glorious ERGO BIBAMUS!

I saw mine own love in her beauty so rare, And bethought me of: ERGO BIBAMUS; So I gently approached, and she let me stand there, While I helped myself, thinking: BIBAMUS!

And when she's appeared, and will clasp you and kiss, Or when those embraces and kisses ye miss, Take refuge, till found is some worthier bliss, In the comforting ERGO BIBAMUS!

I am called by my fate far away from each friend; Ye loved ones, then: ERGO BIBAMUS!

With wallet light-laden from hence I must wend, So double our ERGO BIBAMUS!

Whate'er to his treasure the n.i.g.g.ard may add, Yet regard for the joyous will ever be had, For gladness lends ever its charms to the glad, So, brethren, sing: ERGO BIBAMUS!

And what shall we say of to-day as it flies?

I thought but of: ERGO BIBAMUS!

'Tis one of those truly that seldom arise, So again and again sing: BIBAMUS!

For joy through a wide-open portal it guides, Bright glitter the clouds as the curtain divides, And a form, a divine one, to greet us in glides, While we thunder our: ERGO BIBAMUS.

THE WALKING BELL[23] (1813)

A child refused to go betimes To church like other people; He roamed abroad, when rang the chimes On Sundays from the steeple.

His mother said: "Loud rings the bell, Its voice ne'er think of scorning; Unless thou wilt behave thee well, 'Twill fetch thee without warning."

The child then thought: "High over head The bell is safe suspended--"

So to the fields he straightway sped As if 'twas school-time ended.

The bell now ceased as bell to ring, Roused by the mother's twaddle; But soon ensued a dreadful thing!-- The bell begins to waddle.

It waddles fast, though strange it seem; The child, with trembling wonder, Runs off, and flies, as in a dream; The bell would draw him under.

He finds the proper time at last, And straightway nimbly rushes To church, to chapel, hastening fast Through pastures, plains, and bushes.

Each Sunday and each feast as well, His late disaster heeds he; The moment that he hears the bell, No other summons needs he.

FOUND[24] (1813)

Once through the forest Alone I went; To seek for nothing My thoughts were bent.

I saw i' the shadow A flower stand there; As stars it glisten'd, As eyes 'twas fair.

I sought to pluck it,-- It gently said: "Shall I be gather'd Only to fade?"

With all its roots I dug it with care, And took it home To my garden fair.

In silent corner Soon it was set; There grows it ever, There blooms it yet.

HATEM[25] (1815)

Locks of brown, still bind your captive In the circle of her face!

I, beloved sinuous tresses, Naught possess that's worth your grace--

But a heart whose love enduring Swells in youthful fervor yet: Snow and mists envelop Etna, Making men the fire forget.