How sweet and homelike the world is reflected, In the chalice green of Rhinewine Rummer.
And how the dancing microcosm Sunnily glides down the thirsty throat!
Everything I behold in the gla.s.s-- History, old and new, of the nations, Both Turks and Greeks, and Hegel and Gans, Forests of citron and big reviews, Berlin and Shilda, and Tunis and Hamburg; But, above all, thy image, Beloved, And thy dear little head on a gold-ground of Rhenish!
Oh, how fair, how fair art thou, Dearest!
Thou art as fair as the rose!
Not like the Rose of Shiras, That bride of the nightingale, sung by Hafis, Not like the Rose of Sharon, That mystic red rose, exalted by prophets-- Thou art like the "Rose, of the Bremen Town-Cellar,"
Which is the Rose of Roses; The older it grows the sweeter it blossoms, And its breath divine it hath all entranced me, It hath inspired and kindled my soul; And had not the Town-Cellar Master gripped me With firm grip and steady, I should have stumbled!
That excellent man! We sat together And drank like brothers; We spoke of wonderful mystic things, We sighed and sank in each other"s arms, And me to the faith of love he converted; I drank to the health of my bitterest foes, And I forgave all bad poets sincerely, Even as I may one day be forgiven;
I wept with devotion, and at length The doors of salvation were opened unto me, Where the sacred Vats, the twelve Apostles, Silently preach, yet oh, so plainly, Unto all nations.
These be men forsooth!
Of humble exterior, in jackets of wood, Yet within they are fairer and more enlightened Than all the Temple"s proud Levites, Or the courtiers and followers of Herod, Though decked out in gold and in purple; Have I not constantly said: Not with the herd of common low people, But in the best and politest of circles The King of Heaven was sure to dwell!
Hallelujah! How lovely the whisper Of Bethel"s palm-trees!
How fragrant the myrtle-trees of Hebron!
How sings the Jordan and reels with joy!
My immortal spirit likewise is reeling, And I reel in company, and, joyously reeling, Leads me upstairs and into the daylight That excellent Town-Cellar Master of Bremen.
Thou excellent Town-Cellar Master of Bremen!
Dost see on the housetops the little angels Sitting aloft, all tipsy and singing?
The burning sun up yonder Is but a fiery and drunken nose-- The Universe Spirit"s red nose; And round the Universe Spirit"s red nose Reels the whole drunken world.
A NEW SPRING (1831)
1[39]
Soft and gently through my soul Sweetest bells are ringing, Speed you forth, my little song, Of springtime blithely singing!
Speed you onward to a house Where sweet flowers are fleeting!
If, perchance, a rose you see, Say, I send her greeting!
2[40]
Thy deep blue eyes enchant me, So lovingly they glow; My gazing soul grows dreamy, My words come strange and slow.
Thy deep blue eyes enchant me Wherever I may go: An ocean of azure fancies O"erwhelms me with its flow.
3[41]
Was once an ancient monarch, Heavy his heart, his locks were gray, This poor and aged monarch Took a wife so young and gay.
Was once a page-boy handsome, With lightsome heart and curly hair, The silken train he carried Of the queen so young and fair.
Dost know the old, old story?
It sounds so sweet, so sad to tell-- Both were obliged to perish, They loved each other too well.
ABROAD[42] (1834)
Oh I had once a beauteous Fatherland!
High used to seem The oak--so high!--the violets nodded kind-- It was a dream.
In German I was kissed, in German told (You scarce would deem How sweetly rang the words): "I love thee well!--"
It was a dream.
THE SPHINX[43] (1839)
It is the fairy forest old, With lime-tree blossoms scented!
The moonshine with its mystic light My soul and sense enchanted.
On, on I roamed, and, as I went, Sweet music o"er me rose there; It is the nightingale--she sings Of love and lovers" woes there.
She sings of love and lovers" woes, Hearts blest, and hearts forsaken: So sad is her mirth, so glad her sob, Dreams long forgot awaken.
Still on I roamed, and, as I went, I saw before me lowering On a great wide lawn a stately pile, With gables peaked and towering.
Closed were its windows, everywhere A hush, a gloom, past telling; It seemed as though silent Death within These empty halls were dwelling.
A Sphinx lay there before the door, Half-brutish and half-human, A lioness in trunk and claws, In head and b.r.e.a.s.t.s a woman.
A lovely woman! The pale cheek Spoke of desires that wasted; The hushed lips curved into a smile, That wooed them to be tasted.
The nightingale so sweetly sang, I yielded to their wooing; And as I kissed that winning face, I sealed my own undoing.
The marble image thrilled with life, The stone began to quiver; She drank my kisses" burning flame With fierce convulsive shiver.
She almost drank my breath away; And, to her pa.s.sion bending, She clasped me close, with her lion claws My hapless body rending.
Delicious torture, rapturous pang!
The pain, the bliss, unbounded!
Her lips, their kiss was heaven to me, Her claws, oh, how they wounded.
The nightingale sang: "O beauteous Sphinx!
O love, love! say, why this is, That with the anguish of death itself Thou minglest all thy blisses?
"Oh beauteous Sphinx, oh, answer me, That riddle strange unloosing!
For many, many thousand years Have I on it been musing!"
GERMANY[44] (1842)