PART I. 1825.

1. EVENING TWILIGHT.

By ocean’s pallid strand Sat I, tormented in spirit and lonely. The sun sank lower and lower, and threw Red glowing streaks upon the water, And the snowy, spreading billows, By the flood hard-press’d, Foam’d and roar’d still nearer and nearer-- A wonderful sound, a whisp’ring and piping, A laughing and murmuring, sighing and rushing, Between times a lullaby-home-sounding singing,-- Methinks I hear some olden tradition, Primeval, favourite legend, Which I erst as a stripling Learnt from the neighbours’ children, When we, on the summer evenings, On the house-door’s steps all cower’d Cosily for quiet talking, With our little hearts all attentive, And our eyes all wisely curious;-- Whilst the bigger maidens, Close by their fragrant flowerpots Sat at the opposite window Rosy their faces, Smiling, illumed by the moon.

2. SUNSET.

The glowing ruddy sun descends Down to the far up-shuddering Silvery-grey world-ocean; Airy images, rosily breath’d upon, After him roll, and over against him, Out of the’ autumnal glimmering veil of clouds, With face all mournful and pale as death, Bursteth forth the moon, And behind her, like sparks of light, Misty-broad, glimmer the stars.

Once in the heavens there glitter’d, Join’d in fond union, Luna the goddess and Sol the god, And around them the stars all cluster’d, Their little, innocent children.

But evil tongues then whisper’d disunion, And they parted in anger, That glorious, radiant pair.

Now, in the daytime, in splendour all lonely, Wanders the Sun-god in realms on high,-- On account of his majesty Greatly sung-to and worshipp’d By haughty, bliss-harden’d mortals. But in the night-time, In heaven wanders Luna, Unhappy mother, With all her orphan’d starry children, And she gleams in silent sorrow, And loving maidens and gentle poets Devote to her tears and songs.

The gentle Luna! womanly minded, Still doth she love her beautiful spouse. Towards the evening, trembling and pale, Peeps she forth from the light clouds around, And looks at the parting one mournfully, And fain would cry in her anguish: “Come! Come! the children all long for thee--” But the disdainful Sun-god, At the sight of his spouse, ’gins glowing With still deeper purple, In anger and grief, And inflexibly hastens he Down to his flood-chilly widow’d bed.

* * * * *

Evil and backbiting tongues Thus brought grief and destruction E’en ’mongst the godheads immortal. And the poor godheads, yonder in heaven, Wander in misery, Comfortless over their endless tracks, And death cannot reach them, And with them they trail Their bright desolation.

But I, the mere man, The lowly-planted, the blest-with-death one, I sorrow no longer.

3. THE NIGHT ON THE STRAND.

Starless and cold is the night, The ocean boils; And over the sea, flat on its belly, Lies the misshapen Northwind; With groaning and stifled mysterious voice, A sullen grumbler, good-humour’d for once, Prates he away to the waves, Telling many a wild tradition, Giant-legends, murderous-humorous, Primeval Sagas from Norway, And the while, far echoing, laughs he and howls he Exorcists’ songs of the Edda, Grey old Runic proverbs, So darkly-daring, and magic-forcible, That the white sons of Ocean Spring up on high, all exulting, In madden’d excitement.

Meanwhile, along the flat shore, Over the flood-moisten’d sand, Paces a stranger, whose heart within him Is wilder far than wind and waters; There where he walks Sparks fly out, and shells are crackling, And he veils himself in his dark-grey mantle, And quickly moves on through the blustering night;-- Guided in safety by yon little light, That sweetly, invitingly glimmers, From the lone fisherman’s cottage.

Father and brother are out on the sea, And all all alone is staying Within the hut the fisherman’s daughter, The wondrously lovely fisherman’s daughter. By the hearth she’s sitting, And lists to the water-kettle’s Homely, sweet foreboding humming, And shakes in the fire the crackling brushwood And on it blows, So that the lights, all ruddy and flickering, Magic-sweetly are reflected On her fair blooming features, On her tender, snowy shoulder, Which, moving gently, peeps From out her coarse grey smock, And on her little, anxious hand, Which fastens firmer her under-garment, Over her graceful hip.

But sudden, the door bursts open, The nightly stranger entereth in; Love-secure, his eye reposes On the snowy, slender maiden, Who, trembling, near him stands, Like to a startled lily; And he throws his mantle to earth, And laughs and speaks:

“See now, my child, I’ve kept my word, “And I come, and with me hath come “The olden time, when the gods from the heavens “Came down to earth, to the daughters of mortals, “And the daughters of mortals embraced they, “And from them there issued “Sceptre-bearing races of monarchs, “And heroes, wonders of earth.

“But start not, my child, any longer “Because of my godhead, “And I pray thee give me some tea mix’d with rum “For ’tis cold out of doors, “And amid such night breezes “Freeze even we, we godheads immortal, “And easily catch the divinest of colds, “And a cough that proves quite eternal.”

4. POSEIDON.

The sun’s bright rays were playing Over the wide-rolling breadth of the sea; Far in the roadstead glitter’d the ship Destined to home to convey me. But a propitious wind was yet wanting, And I sat on the white downs all calmly Hard by the lonely strand, And I read the song of Odysseus, The olden, ever-youthful song, From out whose sea-beflutter’d leaves Joyfully rose to meet me The breath of the deities, And the shining spring-time of mortals, And the blooming heaven of Hellas.

My generous heart accompanied truly The son of Laërtes in wanderings and troubles, Placed itself with him, spirit-tormented, At guestly hearths, Where beauteous queens were spinning their purple, And help’d him to lie, and succeed in escaping From giants’ caverns and nymphs’ embraces, Follow’d him down to Cimmerian night, And in tempest and shipwreck, And with him endured unspeakable torments.

Sighing spake I: “Thou wicked Poseidon, “Thine anger is fearful; “I myself am anxious “As to my own return.”

Scarce breath’d I these words, When the sea foam’d on high, And out of the snowy billows arose The sedge-becrowned head of the seagod, And scornfully cried he:

“Fear not, little poet! “I’ll not for one moment endanger “Thy poor little vessel, “And thy dear life shall not be tormented “By any critical tossing. “For thou, little poet, hast never annoy’d me, “No single turret was injured by thee “In Priam’s sacred fortress, “No single hair didst thou e’er singe “In the eye of my son Polyphemus, “And thou hast ne’er been advised or protected “By the goddess of wisdom, Pallas Athene!”

Thus cried Poseidon, And sank ’neath the ocean again; And at the vulgar seaman’s wit Laugh’d under the water Amphitrite, the clumsy fishwoman, And the silly daughters of Nereus.

5. HOMAGE.

Ye songs! O my trusty numbers! Up, up! and on with your arms Bid the trumpet to blow, And raise high on my shield The youthful maiden, Who’s now to rule my heart, My undivided heart, as queen.

Hail to thee, youthful queen!

From the sun on high Tear I his sparkling ruddy gold, And of it weave a diadem For thine anointed head. From the fluttering blue-silken heaven’s veil, Wherein night’s diamonds are gleaming, Cut I a costly piece, And hang, as coronation mantle, Upon thy regal shoulders. I give to thee, as courtiers, Some well-bedizen’d sonnets, Haughty terzinas and courtly stanzas; My wit shall serve thee as footman, And as court-fool my phantasy, As herald, the laughing tears on my scutcheon, My humour shall serve thee. But I, O my queen, Before thee kneel down, In homage, on red velvet cushion, And to thee hand over The small bit of reason, Which, out of compassion, was left me By her who last govern’d thy kingdom.

6. DECLARATION.

Onward glimmering came the evening, Wilder tossèd the flood, And I sat on the strand, regarding The snowy dance of the billows, And soon my bosom swell’d like the sea; A deep home-sickness yearningly seized me For thee, thou darling form, Who everywhere surround’st me, And everywhere call’st me, Everywhere, everywhere, In the moan of the wind, in the roar of the ocean, In the sigh within my own breast.

With brittle reed I wrote on the sand: “Agnes, I love thee!” But wicked billows soon pour’d themselves Over the blissful confession, Effacing it all.

Ah too fragile reed, all fast-scatter’d sand, Ah fugitive billows, I’ll trust you no more! The heavens grow darker, my heart grows wilder And with vigorous hand from the forests of Norway Tear I the highest fir-tree, And plunge it deep In Etna’s glowing abyss, and thereafter With fire-imbued giant-pen I write on the dark veil of heaven: “Agnes, I love thee!” Every night gleams thenceforward On high that eternal fiery writing, And all generations of farthest descendants Read gladly the heavenly sentence: “Agnes, I love thee!”

7. IN THE CABIN AT NIGHT.

The sea its pearls possesseth, And heaven its stars containeth, But, O my heart, my heart, My heart its love hath also.

Vast is the sea and the heavens, Yet vaster is my heart, And fairer than pearls or the stars Glitt’reth and beameth my love.

Thou little youthful maiden, Come to my heart so vast; My heart and the sea and the heavens For very love are dying.

* * * * *

’Gainst the azure veil of heaven, Where the beauteous stars are twinkling, Fain I’d press my lips with ardour, Press them wildly, madly weeping.

Yonder stars the very eyes are Of my loved one, thousand-changing Glimmer they and greet me kindly From the azure veil of heaven.

Tow’rd the azure veil of heaven, Tow’rd the eyes of my beloved one, Lift I up my arms in worship, And I pray, and thus beseech them:

Beauteous eyes, ye lights of mercy, O make happy my poor spirit, Let me die, and as my guerdon, Win both you and all your heaven!

* * * * *

From those heavenly eyes above me Light and trembling sparks are falling Through the night, and then my spirit Loving-wide and wider stretcheth.

O ye heavenly eyes above me! Weep yourselves into my spirit, That my spirit may run over With those tears so sweet and starry!

* * * * *

Cradled by the ocean billows, And by thoughts that seem like visions, Silent lie I in the cabin, In the dark bed in the corner.

Through the open hatchway see I There on high the stars all-radiant, Those sweet eyes so dearly cherish’d Of my sweet and dearly loved one.

Those sweet eyes so dearly cherish’d Far above my head are watching, And they tinkle and they beckon From the azure veil of heaven.

Tow’rd the azure veil of heaven Gaze I many an hour with rapture, Till a white and misty curtain From me hides those eyes so cherish’d.

’Gainst the boarded side of the ship, Where my dreaming head is lying, Rave the billows, the furious billows. They roar and they murmur Thus soft in my ear:

“O foolish young fellow! “Thine arm is short, and the heavens are wide, “And yonder stars are firmly nailed there; “In vain is thy yearning, in vain is thy sighing, “The best thou can’st do is to sleep!”

* * * * *

I dreamt, and dreaming saw a spacious heath, Far overspread with white, with whitest snow, And ’neath that white snow buried I was lying, And slept the lonesome, chilly sleep of death.

Yet from on high, from out the darkling heavens, Look’d down upon my grave those eyes all-starry, Those eyes so sweet! In triumph they were gleaming In calm and radiant but excessive love.

8. STORM.

The tempest is raging, It floggeth the billows, And the billows, fierce-foaming and rearing, Rise up on high, and with life are all heaving The snowy watery mountains, And the small bark climbs o’er them, Labouring hastily, And suddenly plungeth it down In the black, wide-gaping abyss of the flood.--

O sea! Mother of beauty, the foam-arisen one! Grandmother of love! O spare me! Already flutters, corpse-scenting, The snowy, spirit-like sea-mew, And wetteth his beak ’gainst the mast, And longs,--eager to taste,--for the heart Which proclaimeth the fame of thy daughter, And which thy grandson, the little rogue, Chose for his plaything.

In vain my entreaties and prayers! My cry dies away in the blustering storm, In the wind’s battle-shout; It roars and pipes and crackles and howls, Like a madhouse of noises! And, between times, I audibly hear Harp-strains alluring, Songs all wild and yearning, Spirit-melting and spirit-rending, And the voice I remember!

Far away, on the rock-coast of Scotland, Where the old grey castle projecteth Over the wild raging sea, There at the lofty and archèd window, Standeth a woman, beauteous but ill, Softly-transparent and marble-pale, And she’s playing her harp and she’s singing, And the wind through her long locks forceth its way And beareth her gloomy song Over the wide and tempest-toss’d sea.

9. CALM AT SEA.

Calm at sea! His beams all radiant Throws the sun across the water, And amid the heaving jewels, Furrows green the ship is tracing.

Near the steersman lies the boatswain On his stomach, snoring gently; Near the mast, the sails repairing, Squats the cabin-boy, all-tarry.

But behind his cheeks so dirty Red blood springs, a mournful quiv’ring Round his wide mouth plays, and sadly Stare his eyes, so large and handsome.

For the captain stands before him, Raving, cursing, “thief” exclaiming: “Thief! a herring you have stolen “From the barrel, O you rascal!”

Calm at sea! From out the waters Lifts himself a clever fishkin; In the sun his head he warmeth, Splashing with his tail so gaily.

But the sea-mew, soaring over, Shooteth down upon the fishkin, And his sudden prize fast holding In his bill, again mounts upward.

10. THE OCEAN SPECTRE.

But I upon the ship’s edge was lying, And gazed with my eyes all dreamy Down on the glassy pellucid water, And gazed yet deeper and deeper-- Till, deep in the ocean’s abysses, At first like a glimmering mist, Then, bit by bit, with hues more decided, Domes of churches and towers appeared, And at last, clear as sunlight, a city, Antiquarian Netherlandish, And swarming with life. Reverent men, in garments of black, With snowy frills and chains of honour, And lengthy swords and lengthy faces, Over the crowded market are pacing Tow’rd the high-stair’d council-chamber, Where Emperors’ stony images Keep guard with sceptre and sword:-- Hard by, in front of the long row of houses, With mirror-like glistening windows, Stand the lindens all trimm’d into pyramids, And silken rustling maidens are wandering, A golden band round their slender bodies, Their blooming faces neatly surrounded By head-dresses velvet and black, From whence their abundant locks are escaping. Gay young fellows, in Spanish costume, Proudly are passing and nodding. Aged women, In garments all brown and strange-looking, Psalm-book and rosary in hand, Hasten with tripping step Tow’rd the cathedral church, Impell’d by the sound of the bells, And the rushing notes of the organ.

Mysterious awe seizeth me too, Caused by the distant sound; A ne’er-ending yearning and sadness deep Steal o’er my heart, My scarcely-heal’d heart; It seems as though its bitter wounds By dear lips were kiss’d open, And once again were bleeding With drops hot and ruddy, Which long and slowly downward fall Upon an ancient house below In yon deep-ocean city, Upon an ancient and high-gabled house, Where sits in lonely melancholy A maiden at the window, Her head on her arm reclined, Like to some poor, forgotten child, And I know thee, thou poor, forgotten child.

Thus deep, thus deep, then Thou hidd’st thyself from me In some childish conceit, And couldst not reascend, And sattest strange, among strange people, Five hundred years, And I meanwhile, with soul full of grief, Sought thee over all the earth, And ever sought thee, Thou ever-beloved one, Thou long-time-lost one, Thou finally-found one,-- I’ve found thee at last, and again behold Thy countenance sweet, Thine eyes so prudent and faithful, Thy smile so dear-- And never again will I leave thee, And downward hasten I to thee, And with wide-spreading arms Throw myself down on thy heart.

But just in time I was seized by the foot by the Captain, And torn from the side of the ship, While he cried, laughing bitterly: “Why, Doctor, are you mad?”

11. PURIFICATION.

Remain thou in thy ocean-depths, Delirious dream, That erst so many a night My heart with false joy hast tormented, And now, an ocean-spectre, E’en in bright daylight threaten’st me-- Remain below, eternally, And I’ll throw down to thee there All my sins and my sorrows, And folly’s cap and bells That round my head so long have rattled, And the cold and glistening serpent-skin Of hypocrisy, Which so long hath twined round my spirit, My sickly spirit, My God-denying, angel-denying Unhappy spirit-- Hoiho! hoiho! Here comes the wind! Over the plain so destructive when smooth Hastens the ship, And my rescued spirit rejoices.

12. PEACE.

High in the heavens there stood the sun Cradled in snowy clouds, The sea was still, And musing I lay at the helm of the ship, Dreamily musing,--and half in waking And half in slumber, I gazed upon Christ, The Saviour of man. In streaming and snowy garment He wander’d, giant-great, Over land and sea; His head reach’d high to the heavens, His hands he stretch’d out in blessing Over land and sea; And as a heart in his bosom Bore he the sun, The sun all ruddy and flaming, And the ruddy and flaming sunny-heart Shed its beams of mercy And its beauteous, bliss-giving light, Lighting and warming Over land and sea.

Sounds of bells were solemnly drawing Here and there, like swans were drawing By rosy bands the gliding ship, And drew it sportively tow’rd the green shore, Where men were dwelling, in high and turreted O’erhanging town. O blessings of peace! how still the town! Hush’d was the hollow sound Of busy and sweltering trade, And through the clean and echoing streets Were passing men in white attire, Palm-branches bearing, And when two chanced to meet, They view’d each other with inward intelligence, And trembling, in love and sweet denial, Kiss’d on the forehead each other, And gazed up on high At the Saviour’s sunny-heart, Which, glad and atoningly Beam’d down its ruddy blood, And three times blest, thus spake they: “Praisèd be Jesus Christ!”

* * * * *

Couldst thou this vision have only imagined, What wouldst thou not give for it, My dearest friend! Thou who in head and loins art so weak, And so strong in thy faith, And the Trinity worship’st in Unity, And the dog and the cross and the paw Of thy lofty patroness daily kissest, And hast work’d thy way upward by canting As an Aulic Counsellor, Magistrate, And at last as a Government Counsellor In the pious town[25] Where flourish both sand and religion, And the patient water of sacred Spree Washes souls and dilutes the tea-- Couldst thou this vision have only imagined, My dearest friend! Thou hadst borne it up high, to the market-place, Thy countenance pallid and blinking Had been dissolved in devotion and lowliness, And her Serene Highness, Enchanted and trembling with rapture, Had with thee sunk in prayer on the knee, And her eyes, beaming brightly, Had promised, by way of increase of salary, A hundred Prussian dollars sterling, And thou, with folded hands, wouldst have stammer’d: “Praisèd be Jesus Christ!”