The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 481

O, longing heart, no more delight-upbuoyed Let the sweet airy image thee befool!

The arms that would embrace her clasp the void This feverish breast no phantom-bliss can cool, O, waft her here, the true, the living one!

Let but my hand her hand, the tender, feel-- The very shadow of her robe alone!-- So into life the idle dream shall steal!

As glide from heaven, when least we ween, The rosy hours of bliss, All gently came the maid, unseen:-- He waked beneath her kiss!

LONGING.

Could I from this valley drear, Where the mist hangs heavily, Soar to some more blissful sphere, Ah! how happy should I be!

Distant hills enchant my sight, Ever young and ever fair; To those hills I'd take my flight Had I wings to scale the air.

Harmonies mine ear a.s.sail, Tunes that breathe a heavenly calm; And the gently-sighing gale Greets me with its fragrant balm.

Peeping through the shady bowers, Golden fruits their charms display.

And those sweetly-blooming flowers Ne'er become cold winter's prey.

In you endless suns.h.i.+ne bright, Oh! what bliss 'twould be to dwell!

How the breeze on yonder height Must the heart with rapture swell!

Yet the stream that hems my path Checks me with its angry frown, While its waves, in rising wrath, Weigh my weary spirit down.

See--a bark is drawing near, But, alas, the pilot fails!

Enter boldly--wherefore fear?

Inspiration fills its sails, Faith and courage make thine own,-- G.o.ds ne'er lend a helping-hand; 'Tis by magic power alone Thou canst reach the magic land!

EVENING.

(AFTER A PICTURE.)

Oh! thou bright-beaming G.o.d, the plains are thirsting, Thirsting for freshening dew, and man is pining; Wearily move on thy horses-- Let, then, thy chariot descend!

Seest thou her who, from ocean's crystal billows, Lovingly nods and smiles?--Thy heart must know her!

Joyously speed on thy horses,-- Tethys, the G.o.ddess, 'tis nods!

Swiftly from out his flaming chariot leaping, Into her arms he springs,--the reins takes Cupid,-- Quietly stand the horses, Drinking the cooling flood.

Now from the heavens with gentle step descending, Balmy night appears, by sweet love followed; Mortals, rest ye, and love ye,-- Phoebus, the loving one, rests!

THE PILGRIM.

Youth's gay springtime scarcely knowing Went I forth the world to roam-- And the dance of youth, the glowing, Left I in my father's home, Of my birthright, glad-believing, Of my world-gear took I none, Careless as an infant, cleaving To my pilgrim staff alone.

For I placed my mighty hope in Dim and holy words of faith, "Wander forth--the way is open, Ever on the upward path-- Till thou gain the golden portal, Till its gates unclose to thee.

There the earthly and the mortal, Deathless and divine shall be!"

Night on morning stole, on stealeth, Never, never stand I still, And the future yet concealeth, What I seek, and what I will!

Mount on mount arose before me, Torrents hemmed me every side, But I built a bridge that bore me O'er the roaring tempest-tide.

Towards the east I reached a river, On its sh.o.r.es I did not rest; Faith from danger can deliver, And I trusted to its breast.

Drifted in the whirling motion, Seas themselves around me roll-- Wide and wider spreads the ocean, Far and farther flies the goal.

While I live is never given Bridge or wave the goal to near-- Earth will never meet the heaven, Never can the there be here!

THE IDEALS.

And wilt thou, faithless one, then, leave me, With all thy magic phantasy,-- With all the thoughts that joy or grieve me, Wilt thou with all forever fly?

Can naught delay thine onward motion, Thou golden time of life's young dream?

In vain! eternity's wide ocean Ceaselessly drowns thy rolling stream.

The glorious suns my youth enchanting Have set in never-ending night; Those blest ideals now are wanting That swelled my heart with mad delight.

The offspring of my dream hath perished, My faith in being pa.s.sed away; The G.o.dlike hopes that once I cherish Are now reality's sad prey.

As once Pygmalion, fondly yearning, Embraced the statue formed by him, Till the cold marble's cheeks were burning, And life diffused through every limb, So I, with youthful pa.s.sion fired, My longing arms round Nature threw, Till, clinging to my breast inspired, She 'gan to breathe, to kindle too.

And all my fiery ardor proving, Though mute, her tale she soon could tell, Returned each kiss I gave her loving, The throbbings of my heart read well.

Then living seemed each tree, each flower, Then sweetly sang the waterfall, And e'en the soulless in that hour Shared in the heavenly bliss of all.

For then a circling world was bursting My bosom's narrow prison-cell, To enter into being thirsting, In deed, word, shape, and sound as well.

This world, how wondrous great I deemed it, Ere yet its blossoms could unfold!

When open, oh, how little seemed it!

That little, oh, how mean and cold!

How happy, winged by courage daring, The youth life's mazy path first pressed-- No care his manly strength impairing, And in his dream's sweet vision blest!

The dimmest star in air's dominion Seemed not too distant for his flight; His young and ever-eager pinion Soared far beyond all mortal sight.

Thus joyously toward heaven ascending, Was aught for his bright hopes too far?

The airy guides his steps attending, How danced they round life's radiant car!

Soft love was there, her guerdon bearing, And fortune, with her crown of gold, And fame, her starry chaplet wearing, And truth, in majesty untold.

But while the goal was yet before them, The faithless guides began to stray; Impatience of their task came o'er them, Then one by one they dropped away.

Light-footed Fortune first retreating, Then Wisdom's thirst remained unstilled, While heavy storms of doubt were beating Upon the path truth's radiance filled.

I saw Fame's sacred wreath adorning The brows of an unworthy crew; And, ah! how soon Love's happy morning, When spring had vanished, vanished too!

More silent yet, and yet more weary, Became the desert path I trod; And even hope a glimmer dreary Scarce cast upon the gloomy road.

Of all that train, so bright with gladness, Oh, who is faithful to the end?

Who now will seek to cheer my sadness, And to the grave my steps attend?

Thou, Friends.h.i.+p, of all guides the fairest, Who gently healest every wound; Who all life's heavy burdens sharest, Thou, whom I early sought and found!

Employment too, thy loving neighbor, Who quells the bosom's rising storms; Who ne'er grows weary of her labor, And ne'er destroys, though slow she forms; Who, though but grains of sand she places To swell eternity sublime, Yet minutes, days, ay! years effaces From the dread reckoning kept by Time!