Poems, supressed poems | Page 8

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 mass,
Freeze to rock and stone, alas!
If I don't remove.

All this, love, I owe to thee,
Winter-bumps 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.
THE WINTER NIGHT.
Farewell! the beauteous sun is sinking fast,
The moon lifts up her head;
Farewell! mute night o'er earth's wide
round at last
Her darksome raven-wing has spread.
Across the wintry plain no echoes float,
Save, from the rock's deep womb,
The murmuring streamlet, and the
screech-owl's note,
Arising from the forest's gloom.
The fish repose within the watery deeps,
The snail draws in his head;
The dog beneath the table calmly sleeps,
My wife is slumbering in her bed.
A hearty welcome to ye, brethren mine!
Friends of my life's young spring!
Perchance around a flask of

Rhenish wine
Ye're gathered now, in joyous ring.
The brimming goblet's bright and purple beams
Mirror the world with joy,
And pleasure from the golden grape-juice
gleams--
Pleasure untainted by alloy.
Concealed behind departed years, your eyes
Find roses now alone;
And, as the summer tempest quickly flies,
Your heavy sorrows, too, are flown.
From childish sports, to e'en the doctor's hood,
The book of life ye thumb,
And reckon o'er, in light and joyous
mood,
Your toils in the gymnasium;
Ye count the oaths that Terence--may he ne'er,
Though buried, calmly slumber!--
Caused you, despite Minelli's notes,
to swear,--
Count your wry faces without number.
How, when the dread examinations came,
The boy with terror shook!
How, when the rector had pronounced his
name,
The sweat streamed down upon his book!
All this is now involved in mist forever,

The boy is now a man,
And Frederick, wiser grown, discloses never
What little Fritz once loved to plan.
At length--a doctor one's declared to be,--
A regimental one!
And then,--and not too soon,--discover we
That plans soap-bubbles are alone. [68]
Blow on! blow on! and let the bubbles rise,
If but this heart remain!
And if a German laurel as the prize
Of song, 'tis given me to gain!
THE WIRTEMBERGER.
The name of Wirtemberg they hold
To come from Wirth am berg
[69], I'm told.
A Wirtemberger who ne'er drinks
No Wirtemberger
is, methinks!
THE MOLE.
HUSBAND.
The boy's my very image! See!
Even the scars my
small-pox left me!
WIFE.
I can believe it easily
They once of all my senses reft me.
HYMN TO THE ETERNAL.
'Twixt the heavens and earth, high in the airy ocean,
In the tempest's
cradle I'm borne with a rocking motion;
Clouds are towering,
Storms beneath me are lowering,
Giddily all the wonders I see,
And, O Eternal, I think of Thee!

All Thy terrible pomp, lend to the Finite now,
Mighty Nature! Oh, of
Infinity, thou
Giant daughter!
Mirror God, as in water!
Tempest, oh, let thine organ-peal
God to the reasoning worm reveal!
Hark! it peals--how the rocks quiver beneath its growls Zeboath's
glorious name, wildly the hurricane howls!
Graving the while