The Poems of Schiller - Third period Part 8

That love, which could the labyrinth pierce-- Which nerves the weak, and curbs the fierce, And wings with wit the dull;-- That love which o'er the furrowed land Bowed--tame beneath young Jason's hand-- The fiery-snorting bull!

Yes, Styx itself, that ninefold flows, Has love, the fearless, ventured o'er, And back to daylight borne the bride, From Pluto's dreary sh.o.r.e!

What marvel then that wind and wave, Leander doth but burn to brave, When love, that goads him, guides!

Still when the day, with fainter glimmer, Wanes pale--he leaps, the daring swimmer, Amid the darkening tides; With l.u.s.ty arms he cleaves the waves, And strikes for that dear strand afar; Where high from Hero's lonely tower Lone streams the beacon-star.

In vain his blood the wave may chill, These tender arms can warm it still-- And, weary if the way, By many a sweet embrace, above All earthly boons--can liberal love The lover's toil repay, Until Aurora breaks the dream, And warns the loiterer to depart-- Back to the ocean's icy bed, Scared from that loving heart.

So thirty suns have sped their flight-- Still in that theft of sweet delight Exult the happy pair; Caress will never pall caress, And joys that G.o.ds might envy, bless The single bride-night there.

Ah! never he has rapture known, Who has not, where the waves are driven Upon the fearful sh.o.r.es of h.e.l.l, Plucked fruits that taste of heaven!

Now changing in their season are, The morning and the Hesper star;-- Nor see those happy eyes The leaves that withering droop and fall, Nor hear, when, from its northern hall, The neighboring winter sighs; Or, if they see, the shortening days But seem to them to close in kindness; For longer joys, in lengthening nights, They thank the heaven in blindness.

It is the time, when night and day, In equal scales contend for sway [35]-- Lone, on her rocky steep, Lingers the girl with wistful eyes That watch the sun-steeds down the skies, Careering towards the deep.

Lulled lay the smooth and silent sea, A mirror in translucent calm, The breeze, along that crystal realm, Unmurmuring, died in balm.

In wanton swarms and blithe array, The merry dolphins glide and play Amid the silver waves.

In gray and dusky troops are seen, The hosts that serve the ocean-queen, Upborne from coral caves: They--only they--have witnessed love To rapture steal its secret way: And Hecate [36] seals the only lips That could the tale betray!

She marks in joy the lulled water, And Sestos, thus thy tender daughter, Soft-flattering, woos the sea!

"Fair G.o.d--and canst thou then betray?

No! falsehood dwells with them that say That falsehood dwells with thee!

Ah! faithless is the race of man, And harsh a father's heart can prove; But thee, the gentle and the mild, The grief of love can move!"

"Within these hated walls of stone, Should I, repining, mourn alone, And fade in ceaseless care, But thou, though o'er thy giant tide, Nor bridge may span, nor boat may glide, Dost safe my lover bear.

And darksome is thy solemn deep, And fearful is thy roaring wave; But wave and deep are won by love-- Thou smilest on the brave!"

"Nor vainly, sovereign of the sea, Did Eros send his shafts to thee What time the rain of gold, Bright h.e.l.le, with her brother bore, How stirred the waves she wandered o'er, How stirred thy deeps of old!

Swift, by the maiden's charms subdued, Thou cam'st from out the gloomy waves, And in thy mighty arms, she sank Into thy bridal caves."

"A G.o.ddess with a G.o.d, to keep In endless youth, beneath the deep, Her solemn ocean-court!

And still she smooths thine angry tides, Tames thy wild heart, and favoring guides The sailor to the port!

Beautiful h.e.l.le, bright one, hear Thy lone adoring suppliant pray!

And guide, O G.o.ddess--guide my love Along the wonted way!"

Now twilight dims the waters' flow, And from the tower, the beacon's glow Waves flickering o'er the main.

Ah, where athwart the dismal stream, Shall s.h.i.+ne the beacon's faithful beam The lover's eyes shall strain!

Hark! sounds moan threatening from afar-- From heaven the blessed stars are gone-- More darkly swells the rising sea The tempest labors on!

Along the ocean's boundless plains Lies night--in torrents rush the rains From the dark-bosomed cloud-- Red lightning skirs the panting air, And, loosed from out their rocky lair, Sweep all the storms abroad.

Huge wave on huge wave tumbling o'er, The yawning gulf is rent asunder, And shows, as through an opening pall, Grim earth--the ocean under!

Poor maiden! bootless wail or vow-- "Have mercy, Jove--be gracious, thou!

Dread prayer was mine before!"

What if the G.o.ds have heard--and he, Lone victim of the stormy sea, Now struggles to the sh.o.r.e!

There's not a sea-bird on the wave-- Their hurrying wings the shelter seek; The stoutest s.h.i.+p the storms have proved, Takes refuge in the creek.

"Ah, still that heart, which oft has braved The danger where the daring saved, Love lureth o'er the sea;-- For many a vow at parting morn, That naught but death should bar return, Breathed those dear lips to me; And whirled around, the while I weep, Amid the storm that rides the wave, The giant gulf is grasping down The rash one to the grave!

"False Pontus! and the calm I hailed, The awaiting murder darkly veiled-- The lulled pellucid flow, The smiles in which thou wert arrayed, Were but the snares that love betrayed To thy false realm below!

Now in the midway of the main, Return relentlessly forbidden, Thou loosenest on the path beyond The horrors thou hadst hidden."

Loud and more loud the tempest raves In thunder break the mountain waves, White-foaming on the rock-- No s.h.i.+p that ever swept the deep Its ribs of gnarled oak could keep Unshattered by the shock.

Dies in the blast the guiding torch To light the struggler to the strand; 'Tis death to battle with the wave, And death no less to land!

On Venus, daughter of the seas, She calls the tempest to appease-- To each wild-shrieking wind Along the ocean-desert borne, She vows a steer with golden horn-- Vain vow--relentless wind!

On every G.o.ddess of the deep, On all the G.o.ds in heaven that be, She calls--to soothe in calm, awhile The tempest-laden sea!

"Hearken the anguish of my cries!

From thy green halls, arise--arise, Leucothoe the divine!

Who, in the barren main afar, Oft on the storm-beat mariner Dost gently-saving s.h.i.+ne.

Oh,--reach to him thy mystic veil, To which the drowning clasp may cling, And safely from that roaring grave, To sh.o.r.e my lover bring!"

And now the savage winds are hus.h.i.+ng.

And o'er the arched horizon, blus.h.i.+ng, Day's chariot gleams on high!

Back to their wonted channels rolled, In crystal calm the waves behold One smile on sea and sky!

All softly breaks the rippling tide, Low-murmuring on the rocky land, And playful wavelets gently float A corpse upon the strand!

'Tis he!--who even in death would still Not fail the sweet vow to fulfil; She looks--sees--knows him there!

From her pale lips no sorrow speaks, No tears glide down her hueless cheeks; Cold-numbed in her despair-- She looked along the silent deep, She looked upon the brightening heaven, Till to the marble face the soul Its light sublime had given!

"Ye solemn powers men shrink to name, Your might is here, your rights ye claim-- Yet think not I repine Soon closed my course; yet I can bless The life that brought me happiness-- The fairest lot was mine!

Living have I thy temple served, Thy consecrated priestess been-- My last glad offering now receive Venus, thou mightiest queen!"

Flashed the white robe along the air, And from the tower that beetled there She sprang into the wave; Roused from his throne beneath the waste, Those holy forms the G.o.d embraced-- A G.o.d himself their grave!

Pleased with his prey, he glides along-- More blithe the murmured music seems, A gush from unexhausted urns His everlasting streams!

Ca.s.sANDRA.

Mirth the halls of Troy was filling, Ere its lofty ramparts fell; From the golden lute so thrilling Hymns of joy were heard to swell.

From the sad and tearful slaughter All had laid their arms aside, For Pelides Priam's daughter Claimed then as his own fair bride.

Laurel branches with them bearing, Troop on troop in bright array To the temples were repairing, Owning Thymbrius' sovereign sway.

Through the streets, with frantic measure, Danced the baccha.n.a.l mad round, And, amid the radiant pleasure, Only one sad breast was found.

Joyless in the midst of gladness, None to heed her, none to love, Roamed Ca.s.sandra, plunged in sadness, To Apollo's laurel grove.

To its dark and deep recesses Swift the sorrowing priestess hied, And from off her flowing tresses Tore the sacred band, and cried:

"All around with joy is beaming, Ev'ry heart is happy now, And my sire is fondly dreaming, Wreathed with flowers my sister's brow I alone am doomed to wailing, That sweet vision flies from me; In my mind, these walls a.s.sailing, Fierce destruction I can see."

"Though a torch I see all-glowing, Yet 'tis not in Hymen's hand; Smoke across the skies is blowing, Yet 'tis from no votive brand.

Yonder see I feasts entrancing, But in my prophetic soul, Hear I now the G.o.d advancing, Who will steep in tears the bowl!"

"And they blame my lamentation, And they laugh my grief to scorn; To the haunts of desolation I must bear my woes forlorn.

All who happy are, now shun me, And my tears with laughter see; Heavy lies thy hand upon me, Cruel Pythian deity!"

"Thy divine decrees foretelling, Wherefore hast thou thrown me here, Where the ever-blind are dwelling, With a mind, alas, too clear?