The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume Iii Part 8

And Virtue is more than a shade or a sound, And Man may her voice, in this being, obey; And though ever he slip on the stony ground, Yet, ever again to the G.o.dlike way, To the _science_ of Good though the Wise may be blind, Yet the _practice_ is plain to the childlike mind.

And a G.o.d there is--over s.p.a.ce, over Time; While the Human Will rocks, like a reed, to and fro, Lives the Will of the Holy--A Purpose Sublime, A Thought woven over creation below; Changing and shifting the All we inherit, But changeless through all One Immutable Spirit!

Hold fast the Three Words of Belief--though about From the lip to the lip, full of meaning, they flee; Yet they take not their birth from the being without-- But a voice from within must their oracle be; And never all worth in the Man can be o'er, Till in those Three Words he believes no more.

THE WORDS OF ERROR (1799)

Three Errors there are, that for ever are found On the lips of the good, on the lips of the best; But empty their meaning and hollow their sound-- And slight is the comfort they bring to the breast.

The fruits of existence escape from the clasp Of the seeker who strives but those shadows to grasp-- So long as Man dreams of some Age in _this_ life When the Right and the Good will all evil subdue; For the Right and the Good lead us ever to strife, And wherever they lead us, the Fiend will pursue.

And (till from the earth borne, and stifled at length) The earth that he touches still gifts him with strength![10]

So long as Man fancies that Fortune will live, Like a bride with her lover, united with Worth; For her favors, alas! to the mean she will give-- And Virtue possesses no t.i.tle to earth!

That Foreigner wanders to regions afar, Where the lands of her birthright immortally are!

So long as Man dreams that, to mortals a gift, The Truth in her fulness of splendor will shine; The veil of the G.o.ddess no earth-born may lift, And all we can learn is--to guess and divine I Dost thou seek, in a dogma, to prison her form?

The spirit flies forth on the wings of the storm!

O, n.o.ble Soul! fly from delusions like these, More heavenly belief be it thine to adore; Where the Ear never hearkens, the Eye never sees, Meet the rivers of Beauty and Truth evermore!

Not _without_ thee the streams--there the Dull seek them;--No!

Look _within_ thee--behold both the fount and the flow!

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE LAY OF THE BELL JULIUS BENEZUR]

THE LAY OF THE BELL[11] (1799)

"_Vivos voco--Mortuos plango--Fulgura frango_." [12]

I

Fast in its prison-walls of earth, Awaits the mold of baked clay.

Up, comrades, up, and aid the birth-- THE BELL that shall be born today!

Who would honor obtain, With the sweat and the pain, The praise that Man gives to the Master must buy!-- But the blessing withal must descend from on high!

And well an earnest word beseems The work the earnest hand prepares; Its load more light the labor deems, When sweet discourse the labor shares.

So let us ponder--nor in vain-- What strength can work when labor wills; For who would not the fool disdain Who ne'er designs what he fulfils?

And well it stamps our Human Race, And hence the gift To UNDERSTAND, That Man within the heart should trace Whate'er he fashions with the hand.

II

From the fir the f.a.ggot take, Keep it, heap it hard and dry, That the gathered flame may break Through the furnace, wroth and high.

When the copper within Seethes and simmers--the tin Pour quick, that the fluid that feeds the Bell May flow in the right course glib and well.

Deep hid within this nether cell, What force with Fire is molding thus In yonder airy tower shall dwell, And witness wide and far of us!

It shall, in later days, unfailing, Rouse many an ear to rapt emotion; Its solemn voice with Sorrow wailing, Or choral chiming to Devotion.

Whatever Fate to Man may bring, Whatever weal or woe befall, That metal tongue shall backward ring The warning moral drawn from all.

III

See the silvery bubbles spring!

Good! the ma.s.s is melting now!

Let the salts we duly bring Purge the flood, and speed the flow.

From the dross and the sc.u.m, Pure, the fusion must come; For perfect and pure we the metal must keep, That its voice may be perfect, and pure, and deep.

That voice, with merry music rife, The cherished child shall welcome in, What time the rosy dreams of life In the first slumber's arms begin; As yet in Time's dark womb unwarning, Repose the days, or foul or fair, And watchful o'er that golden morning, The Mother-Love's untiring care!

And swift the years like arrows fly-- No more with girls content to play, Fast in its prison-walls of earth, Awaits the mold of baked clay.

Up, comrades, up, and aid the birth-- The BELL that shall be born to-day!

Bounds the proud Boy upon his way, Storms through loud life's tumultuous pleasures, With pilgrim staff the wide world measures; And, wearied with the wish to roam, Again seeks, stranger-like, the Father-Home.

And, lo, as some sweet vision breaks Out from its native morning skies, With rosy shame on downcast cheeks, The Virgin stands before his eyes.

A nameless longing seizes him!

From all his wild companions flown; Tears, strange till then, his eyes bedim; He wanders all alone.

Blushing, he glides where'er she move; Her greeting can transport him; To every mead to deck his love, The happy wild flowers court him!

Sweet Hope--and tender Longing--ye The growth of Life's first Age of Gold, When the heart, swelling, seems to see The gates of heaven unfold!

O Love, the beautiful and brief! O prime, Glory, and verdure, of life's summertime!

IV

Browning o'er, the pipes are simmering, Dip this wand of clay[13] within; If like gla.s.s the wand be glimmering, Then the casting may begin.

Brisk, brisk now, and see If the fusion flow free; If--(happy and welcome indeed were the sign!) If the hard and the ductile united combine.

For still where the strong is betrothed to the weak, And the stern in sweet marriage is blent with the meek, Rings the concord harmonious, both tender and strong: So be it with thee, if forever united, The heart to the heart flows in one, love-delighted; Illusion is brief, but Repentance is long.

Lovely, thither are they bringing, With her virgin wreath, the Bride!

To the love-feast clearly ringing, Tolls the church-bell far and wide!

With that sweetest holyday, Must the May of Life depart; With the cestus loosed--away Flies ILLUSION from the heart!

Yet love lingers lonely, When Pa.s.sion is mute, And the blossoms may only Give way to the fruit.

The Husband must enter The hostile life; With struggle and strife, To plant or to watch, To snare or to s.n.a.t.c.h, To pray and importune, Must wager and venture And hunt down his fortune!

Then flows in a current the gear and the gain, And the garners are filled with the gold of the grain, Now a yard to the court, now a wing to the centre!

Within sits Another, The thrifty Housewife; The mild one, the mother-- Her home is her life.

In its circle she rules, And the daughters she schools, And she cautions the boys, With a bustling command, And a diligent hand Employed she employs; Gives order to store, And the much makes the more; Locks the chest and the wardrobe, with lavender smelling, And the hum of the spindle goes quick through the dwelling, And she h.o.a.rds in the presses, well polished and full, The snow of the linen, the shine of the wool; Blends the sweet with the good, and from care and endeavor Rests never!

Blithe the Master (where the while From his roof he sees them smile) Eyes the lands, and counts the gain; There, the beams projecting far, And the laden store-house are, And the granaries bowed beneath The blessed golden grain; There, in undulating motion, Wave the corn-fields like an ocean.

Proud the boast the proud lips breathe:-- "My house is built upon a rock, And sees unmoved the stormy shock Of waves that fret below!"

What chain so strong, what girth so great, To bind the giant form of Fate?-- Swift are the steps of Woe.

V

Now the casting may begin; See the breach indented there: Ere we run the fusion in, Halt--and speed the pious prayer!

Pull the bung out-- See around and about What vapor, what vapor--G.o.d help us!--has risen?-- Ha! the flame like a torrent leaps forth from its prison!

What friend is like the might of fire When man can watch and wield the ire?

Whate'er we shape or work, we owe Still to that heaven-descended glow.

But dread the heaven-descended glow, When from their chain its wild wings go, When, where it listeth, wide and wild Sweeps the Free Nature's free-born Child!

When the Frantic One fleets, While no force can withstand, Through the populous streets Whirling ghastly the brand; For the Element hates What man's labor creates, And the work of his hand!

Impartially out from the cloud, Or the curse or the blessing may fall!

Benignantly out from the cloud, Come the dews, the revivers of all!

Avengingly out from the cloud Come the levin, the bolt, and the ball!

Hark--a wail from the steeple!--aloud The bell shrills its voice to the crowd!