Translations Of German Poetry In American Magazines 1741-1810 Part 13

_Phila. Repos._, IV-56, Feb. 18, 1804, Phila.

For the Philadelphia Repository.

TRANSLATION Of Adelio's German Lines in last Repository.

HOPE.

As does the morn's resplendent light Dispel the gloomy shades of night, And the whole universe delight, With the day's ill.u.s.trious sight--

So when the adverse fates decree Nothing to man but misery, When they despair and pain impart To the keen agonized heart--

Then does his course, _Hope's_ sun from rest Take thro' the troubled heaving breast; Then disappears adversity, And leaves behind felicity.

Exempt from horror is the breast, Despair and pain sink into rest; The sun of _Hope_ affords delight, And happiness supremely bright.

Translator.

_Phila. Repos._, IV-64, Feb. 25, 1804, Phila.

Pa.s.sAGE FROM KLOPSTOCK'S MESSIAH.

So at the midnight hour draws nigh to the slumbering city Pestilence. Couch'd on his broad spread wings lurks under the rampart Death, bale-breathing. As yet unalarmed are the peaceable dwellers; Close to his nightly-lamp the sage yet watches; and high friends Over wine not unhallow'd, in shelter of odorous bowers, Talk of the soul and of friendship, and weigh their immortal duration.

But too soon shall frightful Death, in a day of affliction Pouncing over them, over them spread; in a day of moaning and anguish....

When with wringing of hands the bride for the bridegroom loud wails; When, now of all her children bereft, the desperate mother Furious curses the day on which she bore, and was born ... when Weary with hollower eye, amid the carcases totter Even the buriers ... till the sent Death-angel, descending, Thoughtful on thunder-clouds, beholds all lonesome and silent, Gazes the wide desolation, and long broods over the graves, fixt.

"Perhaps some other writer will throw this fine picture into blank verse so well, as to convince the public, that the beauties of Klopstock can be naturalized without strangeness, and his peculiarities retained without affectation; that quaintness, the unavoidable companion of neologism, is as needless to genius, as hostile to grace; the hexameter, until it is familiar, must repel, and, when it is familiar, may annoy; that it wants a musical orderliness of sound; and that its cantering capricious movement opposes the grave march of solemn majesty, and better suits the ordinary scenery of Theocritus than the empyreal visions of Klopstock."

From "Criticism on Klopstock's Messiah."

_Lit. Mag. and Amer. Reg._, I-468, Mar. 1804, Phila.

[F. G. Klopstock, _Messias_.]

THE GUARDIAN SPIRIT.

From the German of Matthison.

Whene'er day-light's parting gleam A smiling form salutes my love, And loiters near the murm'ring stream, And glides beneath the conscious grove: Ah! then my Henry's spirit see: Soft joy and peace it brings to thee.

And when at moon-light's sober ray Thou dream'st perchance of love and me, As thro' the pines the breezes play, And whisper dying melody-- When tender bodings prompt the sigh-- Thy Henry's spirit hovers nigh.

When o'er the mind soft musings steal, As thou the pleasing past hast scann'd; Should'st thou a gentle pressure feel, Like zephyr's kiss o'er lip and hand;-- And should the glimmering taper fade-- Then near thee 'bides thy lover's shade.

And when at midnights' solemn tide, As soft the rolling planets shine-- Like Aeol's harp, thy couch beside, Thou hear'st the words--'forever thine!'

Then slumber sweet, my spirit's there, And peace and joy it brings my fair.

_Phila. Repos._, IV-160, May 19, 1804, Phila.

[Friedrich Matthisson, _Lied aus der Ferne_.]

BuRGER'S LEONORA. [g].

[In an article on Burger's _Lenore_, three eight-lined stanzas of Spencer's translation, and two six-lined stanzas of Stanley's translation are given.

W. R. Spencer, _Leonora_. Trans. from the German of G. A. Burgher.

London, 1796.

J. T. Stanley, _Leonora_. Trans. freely from the German; 2nd ed., London, 1796.]

_Port Folio_, IV-167, May 26, 1804, Phila.

A SONNET Translated from Jacobi.

Tell me where's the vi'let fled Late so gaily blowing; Springing 'neath fair Flora's tread, Choicest sweets bestowing?

Swains the vernal scene is o'er, And the vi'let blooms no more.

Say where hides the blushing rose, Pride of fragrant morning; Garland meet for beauty's brows, Hill and dale adorning?

Gentle maid the summer's fled And the hopeless Rose is dead!

Bear me then to yonder rill, Late so freely flowing; Wat'ring many a daffodil, On its margin glowing-- Sun and wind exhaust its store: Yonder riv'let glides no more!

Lead me to the bow'ry shade, Late with roses flaunting; Lov'd resort of youth and maid, Am'rous ditty chanting-- Hail and storm with fury show'rs, Leafless mourn with rifled bow'rs!

Say where hides the village maid, Late yon cot adorning; Oft I've met her in the glade, Fair and fresh as morning?

Swain how short is beauty's bloom, Seek her in the gra.s.sy tomb!

Whither roves the tuneful swain Who of rural pleasures, Rose and vi'let, rill and plain, Sung in deftest measures?

Maiden, swift life's vision flies, Death has clos'd the Poet's eyes.

_Companion and Weekly Misc._, I-104, Jan. 26, 1805, Balto.

[J. G. Jacobi, _Verganglichkeit_.

W. Taylor of Norwich, _op. cit._ II-106, _Elegy_. (Variants in stanza V).]

The following is a German drinking song, popular in the Rhingau, and probably the inspiration of the _old Hock_, which it celebrates.

Bekranzt mit laub den liebe vollen becher, Und trinkt ihn frolich leer; In ganz Europa, ihr herren recher, Ist solch ein wein nicht mehr.

Ihn bringt das vatterland aus seiner fulle, Wie war er sonst so gut?

Wie war er sonst so edel stille, Und doch voll kraft und muth?

Am Rhein, am Rhein, da wachsen unsre reben; Gesegnet sey der Rhein!

Da wachsen sie am ufer hin, und geben Uns diesen lieben wein.

So trinkt hin dann, and last uns alle wege Uns freun und frolich seyn; Und, wisten wir wo jemand traurig lage, Wir gaben ihm den wein.