Chapter 5

How enviously the sea-mew Looks after us, my dear; Because upon thy lips then So close I pressed mine ear.

He fain would know what issued, Most curious of birds! If thou mine ear fulfillest With kisses or with words.

What through my spirit hisses? I, too, am sore perplexed! Thy words, dear, and thy kisses Are strangely intermixed.

VII.

Shy as a fawn she passed me by; And, fleet as any heifer, She clambered on from cliff to cliff, Her hair flew with the zephyr.

Where to the sea's edge slope the rocks, I reached her, trembling near it. Then, softly with the softest words, I melted her proud spirit.

There we two sat as high as heaven, And heaven's own rapture drinking. While in the dark waves far below; The gradual sun was sinking.

Below us in the deep, dark sea, The fair sun dropped; then dashing, The waves broke wildly over him, With turbulence of passion.

Oh do not weep! he is not dead, 'Neath billows swelling higher; He has but hidden in my heart, With all his burning fire.

VIII.

Come, let us build upon this rock, The Church of God's last lover, The third New Testament's revealed, The agony is over.

Refuted is the second book That fooled us through long ages. The stupid torture of the flesh Is not for modern sages.

Hear'st thou the Lord in the dark sea, With thousand voices speaking? See'st thou o'erhead the thousand lights Of God's own glory breaking?

The holy God dwells in the light, As in the dark abysses. For God is everything that is: His breath is in our kisses.

IX.

Gray night broods above the ocean, Little stars gleam sparkling o'er us. And the waters' many voices Chant in deep, protracted chorus.

Hark! the old northwind is playing On the polished waves of ocean, That, like tubes of some great organ, Thrill and stir with sounding motion.

Partly pagan, partly sacred, Rise these melodies upswelling Passionately to the heavens, Where the joyous stars are dwelling.

And the stars wax large and larger, In bright mazes they are driven, Large as suns at last revolving, Through the spaces of vast heaven.

And weird harmonies they warble With the billows' music blending. Solar nightingales, they circle Through the spheres strange concord sending.

And with mighty roar and trembling, Sky and ocean both are ringing; And a giant's stormy rapture Feel I in my bosom springing.

X.

Shadow-love and shadow-kisses, Life of shadows, wondrous strange! Shall all hours be sweet as this is, Silly darling, safe from change?

All things that we clasp and cherish, Pass like dreams we may not keep. Human hearts forget and perish, Human eyes must fall asleep.

XI.

She stood beside the ocean, And sighed as one oppressed, With such a deep emotion The sunset thrilled her breast.

Dear maiden, look more gayly, This trick is old, thou'lt find. Before us sinks he daily, To rise again behind.

XII.

My ship sails forth with sable sails, Far over the savage sea; Thou know'st how heavy is my woe, Yet still thou woundest me.

Thy heart is fickle as the wind, And flits incessantly. My ship sails forth with sable sails, Far over the savage sea.

XIII.

I told nor man, nor woman How ill you dealt with me; I came abroad and published it To the fishes in the sea.

Only upon terra firma I have left you your good name; But over all the ocean Every creature knows your shame.

XIV.

The roaring waves press onward To reach the strand. Then swell, and, crashing downward, Break on the sand.

They roll with surging power, Nor rest, nor fail-- And then ebb slow and slower-- Of what avail?

XV.

The Runenstein juts in the sea, I sit here with my dreams, The billows wander foamingly; Winds pipe, the sea-mew screams.

Oh I have loved full many a lass, And many a worthy fellow, Where have they gone? The shrill winds pass, And wandering foams the billow.

XVI.

The waves gleam in the sunshine, They seem of gold to be. When I am dead, my brothers, Oh drop me in the sea.

For dearly have I loved it. Like cooling balm descends Upon my heart its current: We were the best of friends.

TO ANGELIQUE.

I.

Now that heaven smiles in favor, Like a mute shall I still languish,-- I, who when unhappy, ever Sang so much about mine anguish?

Till a thousand striplings haunted By despair, my notes re-fluted, And unto the woe I chanted, Greater evils still imputed.

Oh ye nightingales' sweet choir, That my bosom holds in capture, Lift your joyous voices higher, Let the whole world hear your rapture!

II.

Though thou wert fain to pass me quickly, Yet backward didst thou look by chance; Thy wistful lips were frankly parted, Impetuous scorn was in thy glance.

Would that I ne'er had sought to hold thee, To touch thy fleeing gown's white train! The dear mark of thy tiny footprints Would that I ne'er had found again!

For now thy rare wild charm has vanished, Like others thou art tame to see, Intolerably kind and gentle-- Alas! thou art in love with me.

III.

Ne'er can I believe, young beauty, Thy disdainful lips alone: For such big black eyes as thine are Virtue never yet did own.

And those brown-streaked lies down-glancing Say "I love thee!" clearly scanned, Let thy little white heart kiss me-- White heart, dost thou understand?

IV.

From the slightest of emotions, What a sudden transformation, To the most unbounded passion, And the tenderest relation!

Every day it waxes deeper, My affection for my lady. I am almost half-persuaded That I am in love already.

Beautiful her soul: though truly That's a question of opinion. I am surer of the beauty Of the bodily dominion.

Oh that waist! And oh that forehead! Oh that nose! The sweet enclosure Of the lovely lips in smiling! And the bearing's proud composure!

V.

Ah, how fair thou art when frankly Thou reveal'st thy soul's dimensions, And thy speech is overflowing With the noblest of intentions.

When thou tell'st me how thy feelings Always have been truest, highest, To the pride within thy bosom Thou no sacrifice denyest.

Not for millions, thou averrest, Man could thy pure honor buy, Ere thou sell thyself for money Ah, thou wouldst far liefer die.

I before thee stand and listen; To the end I listen stoutly, Like a type of faith in silence, And I fold my hands devoutly.

VI.

I closed my sweetheart's either eye, And on her mouth I kissed, Now asking me the reason why She never gives me rest.

From set of sun till morning rise, Each hour does she persist, 'Oh wherefore did you close mine eyes, When on my mouth you kissed?"

I never yet have told her why, Myself I scarcely wist. I closed my sweetheart's either eye, And on her mouth I kissed.

VII.

When I, enraptured by precious kisses, Rest in thine arms for briefest season, Of Germany thou must not ask me, I cannot bear it--there is a reason!

Leave Germany in peace, I do beseech thee, Vex not with endless questions my poor spirit Concerning home, friends, social, kind relations, There is a reason why I cannot bear it.

The oak-tree there is green, the German women Have soft blue eyes--tender they are and fair. They whisper sighs of hope and truth and passion. I have good cause--'tis more than I can bear.

VIII.

Whilst I, after other people's, Others people's darlings gaze, And before strange sweethearts' dwellings Sighing pace through weary days.--

Then perhaps those other people In another quarter pine, Pacing by my very windows, Coveting that girl of mine.

That were human! God in heaven, Watch us still whate'er befall! God in heaven, joy and blessing, Joy and blessing send us all!

IX.

Dismiss me not, e'en if my thirst Quenched with that sweet draught be! Bear with me for a season yet, That shall suffice for me.

Canst thou no longer be my love, Then be to me a friend; For friendship only just begins When love is at an end.

X.

This mad carnival of loving, This our heart's intoxication Ends at last, and we twain, sobered, Yawningly look each on each.

All the luscious cup is drained That was filled with sensuous juices, Foaming to the brim, enticing, All the luscious cup is drained.

And the violins are silent, That so sweetly played for dancing, For the giddy dance of passion-- Yes, the violins are silent.

And the lanterns are extinguished, That with gorgeous light illumined All the motley troop of maskers-- Yes, the lanterns are extinguished.

And to-morrow comes Ash-Wednesday, I will draw upon thy forehead Then an ashen cross, and murmur, Woman, thou art dust--remember!

SPRING FESTIVAL.

This is the spring-tide's mournful feast, The frantic troops of blooming girls Are rushing hither with flying curls, Moaning they smite their bare white breast, Adonis! Adonis!

The night has come. By the torches' gleams They search the forest on every side, That echoes with anguish far and wide, With tears, mad laughter, and sobs and screams, Adonis! Adonis!

The mortal youth so strangely fair, Lies on the cold turf pale and dead; His heart's blood staineth the flowers red, And a wild lament fulfills the air, Adonis! Adonis!

CHILDE HAROLD.

Lo, a large black-shrouded barge Sadly moves with sails outspread, And mute creatures' muffled features Hold grim watch above the dead.

Calm below it lies the poet With his fair face bare and white, Still with yearning ever turning Azure eyes towards heaven's light.

As he saileth sadly waileth Some bereaven undine-bride. O'er the springing waves outringing, Hark! a dirge floats far and wide.

THE ASRA.

Daily the fair Sultan's daughter Wanders to and fro at twilight By the margin of the fountain, Where the waters white are rippling.

Daily the young slave at twilight Stands beside the fountain's margin, Where the waters white are rippling, Daily grows he pale and paler.

There one evening moved the princess Toward the slave with words swift-spoken "Tell me, tell me what thy name is, Where thy home is, what thy lineage?"

Spake the youthful slave: "My name is Mahomet, I come from Yemen; And by birth I am an Asra, One who dieth when he loves."

HELENA.

Thou hast invoked me from my grave, And through thy magic spell Hast quickened me with fierce desire, This flame thou canst not quell.

Oh press thy lips against my lips, Divine is mortal breath; I drink thy very soul from thee. Insatiable is death.

SONG.

There stands a lonely pine-tree In the north, on a barren height; He sleeps while the ice and snow flakes Swathe him in folds of white.

He dreameth of a palm-tree Far in the sunrise-land, Lonely and silent longing On her burning bank of sand.

THE NORTH SEA.

1825-26.

TO FREDERICK MERCKEL,

THE PICTURES OF THE NORTH SEA ARE AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR.

THE NORTH SEA.

FIRST CYCLUS.

"To be disinterested in everything, but above all in love and friendship, was my supreme wish, my maxim, my practice; hence my daring expression at a later period: 'If I love thee, what is that to thee?' sprang directly from my heart." Goethe's "Truth and Poetry," Book XIV.

I. CORONATION.

Oh songs of mine! belovèd songs of mine, Up, up! and don your armor, And let the trumpets blare, And lift upon your shield This youthful maiden Who now shall reign supreme Over my heart, as queen! Hail! hail! thou youthful queen!

From the sun above I snatch the beaming red gold, And weave therewith a diadem For thy consecrated head. From the fluttering azure-silken canopy of heaven, Where blaze the diamonds of night, A precious fragment I cut: And as a coronation mantle, I hang it upon thy royal shoulders. I bestow on thee a court Of richly-attired sonnets, Haughty _Terzine_ and stately stanzas. My wit shall serve thee as courier, My fancy shall be thy fool, Thy herald, whose crest is a smiling tear, Shall be my humor.

But I myself, oh Queen, Low do I kneel before thee, On the cushion of crimson samite, And as homage I dedicate to thee. The tiny morsel of reason, That has been compassionately spared me By thy predecessor in the realm.

II. TWILIGHT.

On the wan shore of the sea Lonely I sat with troubled thoughts. The sun dropped lower, and cast Glowing red streaks on the water. And the white wide waves, Crowding in with the tide, Foamed and rustled, nearer and nearer, With a strange rustling, a whispering, a hissing, A laughter, a murmur, a sighing, a seething, And amidst all these a mysterious lullaby. I seemed to hear long-past traditions, Lovely old-time fairy-tales, Which as a boy I had heard, From the neighbor's children, When on summer evenings we had nestled On the stone steps of the porch. With little eager hearts, And wistful cunning eyes, Whilst the grown maidens Sat opposite at their windows Near their sweet-smelling flower pots, With their rosy faces, Smiling and beaming in the moonlight.

III. SUNSET.

The glowing red sun descends Into the wide, tremulous Silver-gray ocean. Ethereal, rosy tinted forms Are wreathed behind him, and opposite, Through the veil of autumnal, twilight clouds, Like a sad, deathly-pale countenance, Breaks the moon, And after her, like sparks of light, In the misty distance, shimmer the stars.

Once there shone forth in heaven, Nuptially united. Luna the goddess, and Sol the god. And around them gathered the stars, Those innocent little children.

But evil tongues whispered dissension, And in bitterness parted The lofty, illustrious pair.

Now all day in lonely splendor The sun-god fares overhead, Worshiped and magnified in song, For the excellence of his glory, By haughty prosperity--hardened men. But at night In heaven wandereth Luna, The poor mother, With her orphaned, starry children; And she shines with a quiet sadness, And loving maidens and gentle poets Dedicate to her their tears and their songs.

Poor weak Luna! Womanly-natured, Still doth she love her beautiful consort. Towards evening pale and trembling, She peers forth from light clouds, And sadly gazes after the departing one, And in her anguish fain would call to him, "Come! Come! our children are pining for thee!" But the scornful sun-god, At the mere sight of his spouse, Glows in doubly-dyed purple, With wrath and grief, And implacably he hastens downward To the cold waves of his widowed couch.

* * * * *

Thus did evil-whispering tongues Bring grief and ruin Even upon the immortal gods. And the poor gods in heaven above Painfully wander Disconsolate on their eternal path, And cannot die; And drag with them The chain of their glittering misery.

But I, the son of man, The lowly-born, the death-crowned one, I murmur no more.

IV. NIGHT ON THE SHORE.

Starless and cold is the night, The sea yawns; And outstretched flat on his paunch, over the sea, Lies the uncouth North-wind. Secretly with a groaning, stifled voice, Like a peevish, crabbed man in a freak of good humor, He babbles to the ocean, And recounts many a mad tale, Stories of murderous giants, Quaint old Norwegian Sagas, And from time to time, with re-echoing laughter, He howls forth The conjuration-songs of the Edda, With Runic proverbs So mysteriously arrogant, so magically powerful, That the white children of the sea High in the air upspring and rejoice, Intoxicated with insolence.

Meanwhile on the level beach, Over the wave-wetted sand, Strides a stranger whose heart Is still wilder than wind or wave. Where his feet fall Sparks are scattered and shells are cracked. And he wraps himself closer in his gray mantle, And walks rapidly through the windy night, Surely guided by a little light, That kindly and invitingly beams From the lonely fisherman's hut.

Father and brother are on the sea, And quite alone in the hut Bides the fisher's daughter, The fisher's rarely-beautiful daughter. She sits on the hearth, And listens to the cosy auspicious hum Of the boiling kettle, And lays crackling fagots upon the fire. And blows thereon, Till the flickering red flames With a magic charm are reflected On her blooming face. On her delicate white shoulders Which so pathetically outpeep From the coarse gray smock, And on her little tidy hand Which gathers more closely the petticoat About her dainty loins.

But suddenly the door springs wide, And in steps the nocturnal stranger His eyes rest with confident love On the slim, white maiden, Who stands trembling before him, Like a frightened lily. And he flings his mantle to the ground And laughs and speaks. "Thou see'st my child! I keep my word. And I come, and with me, comes The olden time when the gods of heaven Descended to the daughters of men, And embraced the daughters of men, And begot with them A race of sceptre-bearing kings, And heroes, the wonder of the world. But thou my child, no longer stand amazed At my divinity. And I beseech thee, boil me some tea with rum, For it is cold out doors, And in such a night-air as this, Even we, the eternal gods, must freeze. And we easily catch a divine catarrh, And an immortal cough."

V. POSEIDON.

The sunbeams played Upon the wide rolling sea. Far out on the roadstead glimmered the vessel That was to bear me home. But the favoring wind was lacking, And still quietly I sat on the white down, By the lonely shore.

And I read the lay of Odysseus, The old, the eternally-young lay, From whose billowy-rushing pages Joyously into me ascended The breath of the gods, And the lustrous spring-tide of humanity, And the blooming skies of Hellas.

My loyal heart faithfully followed The son of Laertes in his wanderings and vexations, By his side I sat with troubled soul, On the hospitable hearth Where queens were spinning purple.

And I helped him to lie and happily to escape From the dens of giants and the arms of nymphs. And I followed him into Cimmerian night, Into storm and shipwreck, And with him I suffered unutterable misery.

With a sigh I spake: "Oh, thou cruel Poseidon, Fearful is thy wrath, And I myself tremble For mine own journey home." Scarce had I uttered the words, When the sea foamed, And from the white billows arose The reed-crowned head of the sea-god. And disdainfully he cried: "Have no fear, Poetling! Not in the least will I imperil Thy poor little ship. Neither will I harass thy precious life With too considerable oscillations. For thou, Poetling, hast never offended me, Thou hast not injured a single turret On the sacred stronghold of Priam. Not a single little lash hast thou singed In the eyelid of my son Polyphemus; And never hast thou been sagely counselled and protected By the goddess of wisdom, Pallas Athene."

Thus exclaimed Poseidon, And plunged again into the sea. And, at his coarse sailor-wit, Laughed under the water Amphitrite, the stout fishwoman, And the stupid daughters of Nereus.

VI. DECLARATION.

Shadowing downward came dusky evening, Wildly the breakers rolled, I sat alone upon the shore and gazed At the white dance of the waves.

And my bosom heaved with the sea, A deep homesickness yearningly seized my heart For thee, oh lovely image, Who surround'st me everywhere, Who call'st to me everywhere, Everywhere, everywhere, In the rushing of the wind, in the dashing of the sea, And in the sighing of mine own breast.

With a slender reed I wrote upon the sand, "Agnes, I love thee!" But the wicked waves came overflowing That sweet confession, And blotted it out.

Oh brittle reed! oh swiftly-scattered sand! Oh flowing waves, I trust you no more! The heavens grow darker, my heart beats more wildly, And with a mighty hand, from the Norwegian woods, I snatch the loftiest fir, And I plunge it Into Etna's glowing gulf; And, with such a fire-steeped giant's pen, I write on the dusky canopy of heaven, "Agnes, I love thee!"

Each night hereafter overhead shall blaze Those eternal letters of flame. And all future generations of our descendants Shall joyously read the celestial sign, "Agnes, I love thee!"

VII. NIGHT IN THE CABIN.

The ocean hath its pearls, The heaven hath its stars, But oh, my heart, my heart, My heart hath its love.

Great are the sea and the heavens, But greater is my heart. And fairer than pearls or stars Glistens and glows my love,

Thou little, youthful maiden, Come unto my mighty heart. My heart, and the sea, and the heavens Are melting away with love.

* * * * *

On the azure vault of heaven, Where the beauteous stars are shining, I am fain to press my lips now, Wildly press midst stormy weeping.

Yonder myriad stars the eyes are Of my darling, and they twinkle, And they beckon to me kindly From the azure vault of heaven.

Towards the azure vault of heaven, Towards the eyes of my belovèd, Piously mine arms uplifting, Thus I supplicate and worship;

Lovely eyes, ye lights of heaven, Graciously my soul inspire-- Let me die and let me win you, You and all your spacious heavens.

* * * * *