THE HAPPIEST LAND. FRAGMENT OF A MODERN GERMAN BALLAD. THERE sat one day in quiet, By an alehouse on the Rhine, Four hale and hearty fellows, And drank the precious wine. The landlord's daughter filled their cups Around the rustic board; Then sat they all so calm and still, And spake not one rude word. But, when the maid departed, A Swabian raised his hand, And cried, all hot and flushed with wine, "Long live the Swabian land! "The greatest kingdom upon earth "Ha!" cried a Saxon, laughing, And dashed his beard with wine; "I had rather live in Lapland, Than that Swabian land of thine! She has a bosom as white as snow, She knows how much it is best to show, She gives a side-glance and looks down, She is fooling thee! Beware! Beware! Trust her not, She is fooling thee! And she has hair of a golden hue, Take care! And what she says, it is not true, She gives thee a garland woven fair, It is a fool's-cap for thee to wear, She is fooling thee! THE CASTLE BY THE SEA. FROM UHLAND. Hast thou seen that lordly castle, The clouds float gorgeously. "And fain it would stoop downward Well have I seen that castle, "The winds and the waves of ocean, Didst thou hear, from those lofty chambers, The harp and the minstrel's rhyme ?" "The winds and the waves of ocean, They rested quietly; But I heard on the gale a sound of wail. And tears came to mine eye." "And sawest thou on the turrets "Led they not forth, in rapture, "Well saw I the ancient parents; Without the crown of pride; They were moving slow, in weeds of woe, No maiden was by their side!" WANDERER'S NIGHT-SONGS. FROM GOETHE. I. THOU that from the heaven's art, Come, ah, come into my breast! II. O'er all the hill-tops Is quiet now, In all the tree-tops Hardly a breath; The birds are asleep in the trees. Wait; soon like these Thou too shalt rest. THE BLACK KNIGHT. FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND. "TWAS Pentecost, the Feast of Gladness, When woods and fields put off all sadness, Thus began the King and spake; "So from the halls Of ancient Hofburgh's walls, A luxuriant Spring shall break." Drums and trumpets echo loudly, Fell all the cavaliers, Before the monarch's stalwart son. To the barrier of the fight Rode at last a sable Knight. Danced in sable iron sark, To the sumptuous banquet came Twixt son and daughter all dis- With mournful mind The ancient King reclined, Gazed at them in silent thought. Pale the children both did look, "Sir Knight! your name and scut- But the guest a beaker took; cheon say!" "Should I speak it here, Ye would stand aghast with fear; I am a Prince of mighty sway!" When he rode into the lists, "Golden wine will make you whole!" The children drank, Gave many a courteous thank; The arch of heaven grew black with Each the father's breast embraces, mists, And the castle 'gan to rock. At the first blow, Fell the youth from saddle-bow, Hardly rises from the shock. Pipe and viol call the dances, Son and daughter; and their faces Colourless grow utterly. Whichever way Looks the fear-struck father grey, He beholds his children die. "Woe the blessed children both Takest thou in the joy of youth; Take me, too, the joyless father!" Spake the grim Guest, From his hollow, cavernous breast, "Roses in the spring I gather!" SILENT LOVE. And pain. THE LUCK OF EDENHALL. FROM UHLAND. [The tradition upon which this ballad is founded, and the "shards of the Luck of Edenhall," still exist in England. The goblet is in the possession of Sir Christopher Musgrave, Bart., of Eden Hall, Cumberland; and is not so entirely shattered as the ballad leaves it.] OF Edenhall, the youthful lord Bids sound the festal trumpet's call; And cries, 'mid the drunken revellers all, The butler hears the words with pain, The house's oldest seneschal Takes slow from its silken cloth again Then said the lord: "This glass to praise, It beams from the Luck of Edenhall. Then speaks the lord, and waves it light, ""Twas right a goblet the Fate should be First rings it deep, and full, and mild, Like to the sound of a nightingale; Then like the roar of a torrent wild; Then mutters at last like the thunder's fall, The glorious Luck of Edenhall. "For its keeper takes a race of might, The fragile goblet of crystal tall; It has lasted longer than is right; Kling! klang! with a harder blow than all |