The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 504

And all worth in the man shall forever be o'er When in those three words he believes no more.

Man is made free!--Man by birthright is free, Though the tyrant may deem him but born for his tool.

Whatever the shout of the rabble may be-- Whatever the ranting misuse of the fool-- Still fear not the slave, when he breaks from his chain, For the man made a freeman grows safe in his gain.

And virtue is more than a shade or a sound, And man may her voice, in this being, obey; And though ever he slip on the stony ground, Yet ever again to the G.o.dlike way, To the science of good though the wise may be blind, Yet the practice is plain to the childlike mind.

And a G.o.d there is!--over s.p.a.ce, over time, While the human will rocks, like a reed, to and fro, Lives the will of the holy--a purpose sublime, A thought woven over creation below; Changing and s.h.i.+fting the all we inherit, But changeless through all one immutable spirit

Hold fast the three words of belief--though about From the lip to the lip, full of meaning, they flee; Yet they take not their birth from the being without-- But a voice from within must their oracle be; And never all worth in the man can be o'er, Till in those three words he believes no more.

THE WORDS OF ERROR.

Three errors there are, that forever are found On the lips of the good, on the lips of the best; But empty their meaning and hollow their sound-- And slight is the comfort they bring to the breast.

The fruits of existence escape from the clasp Of the seeker who strives but those shadows to grasp--

So long as man dreams of some age in this life When the right and the good will all evil subdue; For the right and the good lead us ever to strife, And wherever they lead us the fiend will pursue.

And (till from the earth borne, and stifled at length) The earth that he touches still gifts him with strength! [56]

So long as man fancies that fortune will live, Like a bride with her lover, united with worth; For her favors, alas! to the mean she will give-- And virtue possesses no t.i.tle to earth!

That foreigner wanders to regions afar, Where the lands of her birthright immortally are!

So long as man dreams that, to mortals a gift, The truth in her fulness of splendor will s.h.i.+ne; The veil of the G.o.ddess no earth-born may lift, And all we can learn is--to guess and divine!

Dost thou seek, in a dogma, to prison her form?

The spirit flies forth on the wings of the storm!

O, n.o.ble soul! fly from delusions like these, More heavenly belief be it thine to adore; Where the ear never hearkens, the eye never sees, Meet the rivers of beauty and truth evermore!

Not without thee the streams--there the dull seek them;--No!

Look within thee--behold both the fount and the flow!

THE POWER OF WOMAN.

Mighty art thou, because of the peaceful charms of thy presence; That which the silent does not, never the boastful can do.

Vigor in man I expect, the law in its honors maintaining, But, through the graces alone, woman e'er rules or should rule.

Many, indeed, have ruled through the might of the spirit and action, But then thou n.o.blest of crowns, they were deficient in thee.

No real queen exists but the womanly beauty of woman; Where it appears, it must rule; ruling because it appears!

THE TWO PATHS OF VIRTUE.

Two are the pathways by which mankind can to virtue mount upward; If thou should find the one barred, open the other will lie.

'Tis by exertion the happy obtain her, the suffering by patience.

Blest is the man whose kind fate guides him along upon both!

THE PROVERBS OF CONFUCIUS.

I.

Threefold is the march of time While the future slow advances, Like a dart the present glances, Silent stands the past sublime.

No impatience e'er can speed him On his course if he delay; No alarm, no doubts impede him If he keep his onward way; No regrets, no magic numbers Wake the tranced one from his slumbers.

Wouldst thou wisely and with pleasure, Pa.s.s the days of life's short measure, From the slow one counsel take, But a tool of him ne'er make; Ne'er as friend the swift one know, Nor the constant one as foe!

II.

Threefold is the form of s.p.a.ce: Length, with ever restless motion, Seeks eternity's wide ocean; Breadth with boundless sway extends; Depth to unknown realms descends.

All as types to thee are given; Thou must onward strive for heaven, Never still or weary be Would'st thou perfect glory see; Far must thy researches go.

Wouldst thou learn the world to know; Thou must tempt the dark abyss Wouldst thou prove what Being is.

Naught but firmness gains the prize,-- Naught but fulness makes us wise,-- Buried deep, truth ever lies!

HUMAN KNOWLEDGE.

Since thou readest in her what thou thyself hast there written, And, to gladden the eye, placest her wonders in groups;-- Since o'er her boundless expanses thy cords to extend thou art able, Thou dost think that thy mind wonderful Nature can grasp.

Thus the astronomer draws his figures over the heavens, So that he may with more ease traverse the infinite s.p.a.ce, Knitting together e'en suns that by Sirius-distance are parted, Making them join in the swan and in the horns of the bull.

But because the firmament shows him its glorious surface, Can he the spheres' mystic dance therefore decipher aright?

COLUMBUS.

Steer on, bold sailor--Wit may mock thy soul that sees the land, And hopeless at the helm may droop the weak and weary hand, Yet ever--ever to the West, for there the coast must lie, And dim it dawns, and glimmering dawns before thy reason's eye; Yea, trust the guiding G.o.d--and go along the floating grave, Though hid till now--yet now behold the New World o'er the wave!

With genius Nature ever stands in solemn union still, And ever what the one foretells the other shall fulfil.

LIGHT AND WARMTH.

In cheerful faith that fears no ill The good man doth the world begin; And dreams that all without shall still Reflect the trusting soul within.

Warm with the n.o.ble vows of youth, Hallowing his true arm to the truth;

Yet is the littleness of all So soon to sad experience shown, That crowds but teach him to recall And centre thought on self alone; Till love, no more, emotion knows, And the heart freezes to repose.