The Poems of Schiller - Suppressed poems Part 6

Seven sleepers!--to the clarion hark!

How it rings, and how the fierce dogs bark!

Shouts from out a thousand barrels whizz; Eager steeds are neighing for the wood,-- Soon the bristly boar rolls in his blood,-- Yours the triumph is!

But what now?--Are even princes dumb?

Tow'rd me scornful echoes ninefold come, Stealing through the vault's terrific gloom-- Sleep a.s.sails the page by slow degrees, And Madonna gives to you the keys Of--her sleeping-room.

Not an answer--hushed and still is all-- Does the veil, then, e'en on monarchs fall, Which enshrouds their humble flatt'rers glance?

And ye ask for wors.h.i.+p in the dust, Since the blind jade, Fate, a world has thrust In your purse, perchance?

And ye clatter, giant puppet troops, Marshalled in your proudly childish groups, Like the juggler on the opera scene?-- Though the sound may please the vulgar ear, Yet the skilful, filled with sadness, jeer Powers so great, but mean.

Let your towering shame be hid from sight In the garment of a sovereign's right, From the ambush of the throne outspring!

Tremble, though, before the voice of song Through the purple, vengeance will, ere long, Strike down e'en a king!

THE SATYR AND MY MUSE.

An aged satyr sought Around my Muse to pa.s.s, Attempting to pay court, And eyed her fondly through his gla.s.s.

By Phoebus' golden torch, By Luna's pallid light, Around her temple's porch Crept the unhappy sharp-eared wight;

And warbled many a lay, Her beauty's praise to sing, And fiercely sc.r.a.ped away On his discordant fiddle-string.

With tears, too, swelled his eyes, As large as nuts, or larger; He gasped forth heavy sighs, Like music from Silenus' charger.

The Muse sat still, and played Within her grotto fair, And peevishly surveyed Signor Adonis Goatsfoot there.

"Who ever would kiss thee, Thou ugly, dirty dunce?

Wouldst thou a gallant be, As Midas was Apollo once?

"Speak out, old horned boor What charms canst thou display?

Thou'rt swarthy as a Moor, And s.h.a.ggy as a beast of prey.

"I'm by a bard adored In far Teutonia's land; To him, who strikes the chord, I'm linked in firm and loving band."

She spoke, and straightway fled The spoiler,--he pursued her, And, by his pa.s.sion led, Soon caught her, shouted, and thus wooed her:

"Thou prudish one, stay, stay!

And hearken unto me!

Thy poet, I dare say, Repents the pledge he gave thee.

"Behold this pretty thing,-- No merit would I claim,-- Its weight I often fling On many a clown's back, to his shame.

"His sharpness it increases, And spices his discourse, Instilling learned theses, When mounted on his hobby-horse

"The best of songs are known, Thanks to this heavy whip Yet fool's blood 'tis alone We see beneath its lashes drip.

"This lash, then, shall be his, If thou'lt give me a smack; Then thou mayest hasten, miss, Upon thy German sweetheart's track."

The Muse, with purpose sly, Ere long agreed to yield-- The satyr said good-by, And now the lash I wield!

And I won't drop it here, Believe in what I say!

The kisses of one's dear One does not lightly throw away.

They kindle raptures sweet, But fools ne'er know their flame!

The gentle Muse will kneel at honor's feet, But cudgels those who mar her fame.

THE PEASANTS. [67]

Look outside, good friend, I pray!

Two whole mortal hours Dogs and I've out here to-day Waited, by the powers!

Rain comes down as from a spout, Doomsday-storms rage round about,

Dripping are my hose; Drenched are coat and mantle too, Coat and mantle, both just new, Wretched plight, heaven knows!

Pretty stir's abroad to-day; Look outside, good friend, I pray!

Ay, the devil! look outside!

Out is blown my lamp,-- Gloom and night the heavens now hide, Moon and stars decamp.

Stumbling over stock and stone, Jerkin, coat, I've torn, ochone!

Let me pity beg Hedges, bushes, all around, Here a ditch, and there a mound, Breaking arm and leg.

Gloom and night the heavens now hide Ay, the devil! look outside!

Ay, the deuce, then look outside!

Listen to my prayer!

Praying, singing, I have tried, Wouldst thou have me swear?

I shall be a steaming ma.s.s, Freeze to rock and stone, alas!

If I don't remove.

All this, love, I owe to thee, Winter-b.u.mps thou'lt make for me, Thou confounded love!

Cold and gloom spread far and wide!

Ay, the deuce! then look outside!

Thousand thunders! what's this now From the window shoots?

Oh, thou witch! 'Tis dirt, I vow, That my head salutes!

Rain, frost, hunger, tempests wild, Bear I for the devil's child, Now I'm vexed full sore.

Worse and worse 'tis! I'll begone.

Pray be quick, thou Evil One!

I'll remain no more.

Pretty tumult there's outside!

Fare thee well--I'll homeward stride.