Loathsome is that earth-house, And grim within to dwell. There thou shalt dwell, And worms shall divide thee. Thus thou art laid, How that house pleaseth thee; And descend after thee; For soon thou art loathsome KING CHRISTIAN. A NATIONAL SONG OF DENMARK. ROM THE DANISH OF JOHANNES EVALD. KING CHRISTIAN stood by the lofty mast In mist and smoke; His sword was hammering so fast, Path of the Dane to fame and might! Dark-rolling wave! Receive thy friend, who, scorning flight, And amid pleasures and alarms, THE HAPPIEST LAND. FROM THE GERMAN. 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, Then sat they all so calm and still, But, when the maid departed, A Swabian raised his hand, Through Gothic helm and brain it And cried, all hot and flushed with wine, passed; Nils Juel gave heed to the tempest's roar, He hoisted his blood-red flag once more, roar, "Now is the hour!" 66 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! "The goodliest land on all this earth, It is the Saxon land! "Fly!" shouted they, "for shelter fly! There have I as many maidens Of Denmark's Juel who can defy And then the landlord's daughter Up to heaven raised her hand, And said, "Ye may no more contend, There lies the happiest land!" THE WAVE. FROM THE GERMAN OF TIEDGE. "WHITHER, thou turbid wave? Whither, with so much haste, As if a thief wert thou?" "I am the Wave of Life, Stained with my margin's dust; From the struggle and the strife Of the narrow stream I fly To the Sea's immensity, To wash from me the slime Of the muddy banks of Time." THE DEAD. FROM THE GERMAN OF STOCKMANN. How they so softly rest, And they no longer weep, Calls them, they slumber! THE BIRD AND THE SHIP. "THE rivers rush into the sea, By castle and town they go; "The clouds are passing far and high, "I greet thee, bonny boat! Whither, or whence, With thy fluttering golden band?". "I greet thee, little bird! To the wide sea I haste from the narrow land. "Full and swollen is every sail; I see no longer a hill, I have trusted all to the sounding gale, And it will not let me stand still. "And wilt thou, little bird, go with us? Thou mayest stand on the mainmast tall, For full to sinking is my house With merry companions all.". "I need not and seek not company, Bonny boat, I can sing all alone; For the mainmast tall too heavy am I, Bonny boat, I have wings of my own. "High over the sails, high over the mast, Who shall gainsay these joys? When thy merry companions are still, at last, Thou shalt hear the sound of my voice. "Who neither may rest, nor listen may, God bless them every one! I dart away, in the bright blue day, "Thus do I sing my weary song, Wherever the four winds blow; And this same song, my whole life long, Neither Poet nor Printer may know.' WHITHER? FROM THE GERMAN OF MÜLLER. I HEARD a brooklet gushing From its rocky fountain near, Down into the valley rushing, So fresh and wondrous clear. I know not what came o'er me, Nor who the counsel gave; But I must hasten downward, All with my pilgrim-stave; Downward, and ever farther, And ever the brook beside; Didst thou hear, from those lofty cham- | At the first blow, To the barrier of the fight Rode at last a sable Knight. Fell the youth from saddle-bow, Hardly rises from the shock. Pipe and viol call the dances, Torch light through the high halls glances; Waves a mighty shadow in ; Doth ask the maiden's hand, Danced in sable iron sark, Down fall from her the fair Flowerets, faded, to the ground. To the sumptuous banquet came Every Knight and every Dame; 'Twixt son and daughter all distraught, With mournful mind The ancient King reclined, Gazed at them in silent thought. Pale the children both did look, "Golden wine will make you whole!" The children drank, Gave many a courteous thank : "O, that draught was very cool!” Each the father's breast embraces, Son and daughter; and their faces Colorless grow utterly; Whichever way Looks the fear-struck father gray, 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, "Sir Knight! your name and scutch- From his hollow, cavernous breast: "Roses in the spring I gather!" SONG OF THE SILENT LAND. FROM THE GERMAN OF SALIS. INTO the Silent Land! Ah! who shall lead us thither? THE SKELETON IN ARMOR. "SPEAK! speak! thou fearful guest ! Who, with thy hollow breast Still in rude armor drest, Comest to daunt me ! Why dost thou haunt me?" From the heart's chamber. "I was a Viking old! My deeds, though manifold, No Skald in song has told, "Far in the Northern Land, "Oft to his frozen lair Tracked I the grisly bear, While from my path the hare Fled like a shadow; |