Poems, supressed poems | Page 9

With the lightning's style
"Creatures, do ye acknowledge me?"--
Spare us, Lord! We
acknowledge Thee!
DIALOGUE.
A.
Hark, neighbor, for one moment stay!
Herr Doctor Scalpel, so
they say,
Has got off safe and sound;
At Paris I your uncle found
Fast to a
horse's crupper bound,--
Yet Scalpel made a king his prey.
B.
Oh, dear me, no! A real misnomer!
The fact is, he has his
diploma;
The other one has not.
A.
Eh? What? Has a diploma?
In Suabia may such things be got?
EPITAPH
ON A CERTAIN PHYSIOGNOMIST.
On every nose he rightly read
What intellects were in the head
And
yet--that he was not the one
By whom God meant it to be done,


This on his own he never read.
TRUST IN IMMORTALITY.
The dead has risen here, to live through endless ages;
This I with firmness trust and know.
I was first led to guess it by the
sages,
The knaves convince me that 'tis really so.
APPENDIX OF POEMS ETC. IN SCHILLER'S DRAMATIC
WORKS.
APPENDIX.
The following variations appear in the first two verses of Hector's
Farewell, as given in The Robbers, act ii. scene 2.
ANDROMACHE.
Wilt thou, Hector, leave me?--leave me weeping,

Where Achilles' murderous blade is heaping
Bloody offerings on
Patroclus' grave?
Who, alas, will teach thine infant truly
Spears to
hurl, the gods to honor duly,
When thou'rt buried 'neath dark Xanthus'
wave?
HECTOR.
Dearest wife, go,--fetch my death-spear glancing,
Let
me join the battle-dance entrancing,
For my shoulders bear the weight
of Troy!
Heaven will be our Astyanax' protector!
Falling as his
country's savior, Hector
Soon will greet thee in the realms of joy.
The following additional verse is found in Amalia's Song, as sung in
The Robbers, act iii. scene 1. It is introduced between the first and
second verses, as they appear in poems.
His embrace--what maddening rapture bound us!
Bosom throbbed
'gainst bosom with wild might;
Mouth and ear were chained--night
reigned around us--
And the spirit winged toward heaven its flight.

From The Robbers, act iv. scene 5.
CHORUS OF ROBBERS.
What so good for banishing sorrow
As
women, theft, and bloody affray?
We must dance in the air
to-morrow,
Therefore let's be right merry to-day!
A free and jovial life we've led,
Ever since we began it.
Beneath the
tree we make our bed,
We ply our task when the storm's o'erhead

And deem the moon our planet.
The fellow we swear by is Mercury,

A capital hand at our trade is he.
To-day we become the guests of a priest,
A rich farmer to-morrow
must feed us;
And as for the future, we care not the least,
But leave
it to heaven to heed us.
And when our throats with a vintage rare
We've long enough been
supplying,
Fresh courage and strength we drink in there,
And with
the evil one friendship swear,
Who down in hell is frying.
The groans o'er fathers reft of breath,
The sorrowing mothers' cry of
death,
Deserted brides' sad sobs and tears.
Are sweetest music to
our ears.
Ha! when under the axe each one quivering lies,
When they bellow
like calves, and fall round us like flies, Naught gives such pleasure to
our sight,
It fills our ears with wild delight.
And when arrives the
fatal day
The devil straight may fetch us!
Our fee we get without
delay--
They instantly Jack-Ketch us.
One draught upon the road of
liquor bright and clear,
And hip! hip! hip; hurrah! we're seen no
longer here!
From The Robbers, act iv. scene 5.
MOOR'S SONG.
BRUTUS.
Ye are welcome, peaceful realms of light!
Oh, receive

Rome's last-surviving son!
From Philippi, from the murderous fight,

Come I now, my race of sorrow run.--
Cassius, where art
thou?--Rome overthrown!
All my brethren's loving band destroyed!

Safety find I at death's door alone,
And the world to Brutus is a
void!
CAESAR.
Who now, with the ne'er-subdued-one's tread,
Hither
from yon rocks makes haste to come?--
Ha! if by no vision I'm misled,

'Tis the footstep of a child of Rome.--
Son of Tiber--whence dost
thou appear?
Stands the seven-hilled city as of yore
Oft her
orphaned lot awakes my tear,
For alas, her Caesar is no more?
BRUTUS.
Ha! thou with the three-and-twenty wounds!
Who hath,
dead one, summoned thee to light?
Back to gaping Orcus' fearful
bonds,
Haughty mourner! triumph not to-night!
On Philippi's iron
altar, lo!
Reeks now freedom's final victim's blood;
Rome o'er
Brutus' bier feels her death-throe,--
He seeks Minos.--Back to thy
dark flood!
CAESAR.
Oh, the death-stroke Brutus' sword then hurled!
Thou,
too--Brutus--thou? Could this thing be?
Son! It was thy father!--Son!
the world
Would have fallen heritage to thee!
Go--'mongst Romans
thou art deemed immortal,
For thy steel hath pierced thy father's
breast.
Go--and shout it even to yon portal:
"Brutus is 'mongst
Romans deemed immortal,
For his steel hath pierced his father's
breast."
Go--thou knowest now what on Lethe's strand
Made me a
prisoner stand.--
Now, grim steersman, push thy bark from land!
BRUTUS.
Father, stay!--In all earth's realms so fair,
It hath been
my lot to know but one,
Who with mighty Caesar could compare;

And of yore thou called'st him thy son.
None but Caesar could a
Rome o'erthrow,
Brutus only made great Caesar fear;
Where lives
Brutus, Caesar's blood must flow;
If