But should age once bring MITRES to thy brow,
Its wrinkles will not leave a dream like this –
Thy tears may then flow vainly o’er the urn
Of innocence, that never can return!
‘My heart is a monk’
— Rahaki
My heart is a monk, and thy bosom his cloister:
So sleeps the bright pearl in the shell of the oyster.
Relic of Prince Bayazeed, Son of Suleiman (d. 1561)
Slow through my bosom’s veins their last cold blood is flowing,
Above my heart even now I feel the rank grass growing.
Hence to the Land of Nought! The caravan is starting –
Its bell already tolls the signal for departing.
Rejoice, my soul! Poor bird, thou art at last delivered!
Thy cage is crumbling fast; its bars will soon be shivered.
Farewell, thou troubled world, where Sin and Crime run riot,
For SHAHI henceforth rests in GOD’s own House of Quiet.
Twenty Golden Years Ago
— Selber
O, the rain, the weary, dreary rain,
How it plashes on the window-sill!
Night, I guess too, must be on the wane,
Strass and Gass around are grown so still.
Here I sit, with coffee in my cup –
Ah! ’twas rarely I beheld it flow
In the taverns where I loved to sup
Twenty golden years ago!
Twenty years ago, alas! – but stay –
On my life ’tis half-past twelve o’clock!
After all, the hours do slip away –
Come, here goes to burn another block!
For the night, or morn, is wet and cold,
And my fire is dwindling rather low –
I had fire enough, when young and bold,
Twenty golden years ago!
Dear! I don’t feel well at all, somehow:
Few in Weimar dream how bad I am;
Floods of tears grow common with me now,
High-Dutch floods, that Reason cannot dam,
Doctors think I’ll neither live nor thrive
If I mope at home so – I don’t know –
Am I living now? I was alive
Twenty golden years ago.
Wifeless, friendless, flaggonless, alone,
Not quite bookless, though, unless I chuse,
Left with nought to do, except to groan,
Not a soul to woo, except the Muse –
O! this, this is hard for me to bear,
Me, who whilome lived so much en haut,
Me, who broke all hearts like chinaware
Twenty golden years ago!
P’rhaps ’tis better – Time’s defacing waves
Long have quenched the radiance of my brow –
They who curse me nightly from their graves
Scarce could love me were they living now;
But my loneliness hath darker ills –
Such dun duns as Conscience, Thought and Co,
Awful Gorgons! worse than tailors’ bills
Twenty golden years ago!
Did I paint a fifth of what I feel,
O, how plaintive you would ween I was!
But I won’t, albeit I have a deal
More to wail about than Kerner has!
Kerner’s tears are wept for withered flowers,
Mine for withered hopes; my Scroll of Woe
Dates, alas! from Youth’s deserted bowers,
Twenty golden years ago!
Yet, may Deutschland’s bardlings flourish long!
Me, I tweak no beak among them – hawks
Must not pounce on hawks; besides, in song
I could once beat all of them by chalks.
Though you find me, as I near my goal,
Sentimentalizing like Rousseau,
O! I had a grand Byronian soul
Twenty golden years ago!
Tick-tick, tick-tick! – Not a sound save Time’s,
And the windgust, as it drives the rain –
Tortured torturer of reluctant rhymes,
Go to bed, and rest thine aching brain!
Sleep! – no more the dupe of hopes or schemes;
Soon thou sleepest where the thistles blow –
Curious anticlimax to thy dreams
Twenty golden years ago!
The Ride Round the Parapet
— Rückert
‘Sie sprach: ich will nicht sitzen
im stillen Kämmerlein.’
She said, I was not born to mope at home in loneliness –
The Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
She said, I was not born to mope at home in loneliness,
When the heart is throbbing sorest, there is balsam in the forest;
There is balsam in the forest for its pain,
Said the Lady Eleanora,
Said the Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
She doffed her silks and pearls, and donned instead her hunting-gear,
The Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
She doffed her silks and pearls, and donned instead her hunting-gear,
And, till Summertime was over, as a huntress and a rover
Did she couch upon the mountain or the plain,
She, the Lady Eleanora,
Noble Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
Returning home agen, she viewed with scorn the tournaments –
The Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
Returning home agen, she viewed with scorn the tournaments;
She saw the morions cloven and the crowning chaplets woven,
And the sight awakened only the disdain
Of the Lady Eleanora,
Of the Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
My feeling towards Man is one of utter scornfulness,
Said Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
My feeling towards Man is one of utter scornfulness,
And he that would o’ercome it, let him ride around the summit
Of my battlemented Castle by the Maine,
Said the Lady Eleanora,
Said the Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
So came a knight anon to ride around the parapet,
For Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
So came a knight anon to ride around the parapet.
Man and horse were hurled together o’er the crags that beetled nether.
Said the Lady, There, I fancy, they’ll remain!
Said the Lady Eleanora,
Queenly Lady Eleanora von Alleyne!
Then came another knight to ride around the parapet,
For Lady Eleanora von Alleyne!
Then came another knight to ride around the parapet.
Man and horse fell down, asunder, o’er the crags that beetled under.
Said the Lady, They’ll not leap the leap again!
Said the Lady Eleanora,
Lovely Lady Eleanora von Alleyne!
Came other knights anon to ride around the parapet,
For Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
Came other knights anon to ride around the parapet,
Till six and thirty corses of both mangled men and horses
Had been sacrificed as victims at the fane
Of the Lady Eleanora,
Stately Lady Eleanora von Alleyne!
That woeful year was by, and Ritter none came afterwards
To Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
That woeful year was by, and Ritter none came afterwards.
The castle’s lonely basscourt looked a wild o’ergrown-with-grasscourt;
’Twas abandoned by the Ritters and their train
To the Lady Eleanora,
Haughty Lady Eleanora von Alleyne!
She clomb the silent wall, she gazed around her sovranlike,
The Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
She clomb the silent wall, she gazed around her sovranlike;
And wherefore have departed all the Brave, the Lionhearted,
Who hav
e left me here to play the Castellain?
Said the Lady Eleanora,
Said the Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
And is it fled for aye, the palmy time of Chivalry?
Cried Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
And is it fled for aye, the palmy time of Chivalry?
Shame light upon the cravens! May their corpses gorge the ravens,
Since they tremble thus to wear a woman’s chain!
Said the Lady Eleanora,
Said the Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
The story reached at Gratz the gallant Margrave Gondibert
Of Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
The story reached at Gratz the gallant Margrave Gondibert.
Quoth he, I trow the woman must be more or less than human;
She is worth a little peaceable campaign,
Is the Lady Eleanora,
Is the Lady Eleanora von Alleyne!
He trained a horse to pace round narrow stones laid merlonwise,
For Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
He trained a horse to pace round narrow stones laid merlonwise.
Good Grey! Do thou thy duty, and this rocky-bosomed beauty
Shall be taught that all the vauntings are in vain
Of the Lady Eleanora,
Of the Lady Eleanora von Alleyne!
He left his castle-halls, he came to Lady Eleanor’s,
The Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
He left his castle-halls, he came to Lady Eleanor’s.
O, Lady, best and fairest! Here am I – and, if thou carest,
I will gallop round the parapet amain,
Noble Lady Eleanora,
Noble Lady Eleanora von Alleyne!
She saw him spring to horse, that gallant Margrave Gondibert,
The Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
She saw him spring to horse, that gallant Margrave Gondibert.
O, bitter, bitter sorrow! I shall weep for this tomorrow!
It were better that in battle he were slain,
Said the Lady Eleanora,
Said the Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
Then rode he round and round the battlemented parapet,
For Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
Then rode he round and round the battlemented parapet.
The Lady wept and trembled, and her paly face resembled,
As she looked away, a lily wet with rain;
Hapless Lady Eleanora,
Hapless Lady Eleanora von Alleyne!
So rode he round and round the battlemented parapet,
For Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
So rode he round and round the battlemented parapet.
Accurst be my ambition! He but rideth to perdition,
He but rideth to perdition without rein!
Wept the Lady Eleanora,
Wept the Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
Yet rode he round and round the battlemented parapet,
For Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
Yet rode he round and round the battlemented parapet.
Meanwhile her terror shook her – yea, her breath well nigh forsook her;
Fire was burning in the bosom and the brain
Of the Lady Eleanora,
Of the Lady Eleanora von Alleyne!
Then rode he round and off the battlemented parapet
To Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
Then rode he round and off the battlemented parapet.
Now blest be god for ever! This is marvellous! I never
Cherished hope of laying eyes on thee agayne,
Cried the Lady Eleanora,
Joyous Lady Eleanora von Alleyne!
The Man of Men thou art, for thou hast fairly conquered me,
The Lady Eleanora von Alleyne!
The Man of Men thou art, for thou hast fairly conquered me.
I greet thee as my lover, and, ere many days be over,
Thou shalt wed me and be Lord of my domain,
Said the Lady Eleanora,
Said the Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
Then bowed that graceful knight, the gallant Margrave Gondibert,
To Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
Then bowed that graceful knight, the gallant Margrave Gondibert,
And thus he answered coldly, there be many who as boldly
Will adventure an achievement they disdain,
For the Lady Eleanora,
For the Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
Mayest bide until they come, O, stately Lady Eleanor!
O, Lady Eleanora von Alleyne!
Mayest bide until they come, O, stately Lady Eleanor!
And thou and they may marry, but, for me, I must not tarry,
I have won a wife already out of Spain,
Virgin Lady Eleanora,
Virgin Lady Eleanora von Alleyne!
Thereon he rode away, the gallant Margrave Gondibert,
From Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
Thereon he rode away, the gallant Margrave Gondibert,
And long in shame and anguish did that haughty Lady languish,
Did she languish without pity for her pain,
She the Lady Eleanora,
She the Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
And year went after year, and still in barren maidenhood
Lived Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
And wrinkled Eld crept on, and still her lot was maidenhood,
And, woe! her end was tragic; she was changed, at length, by magic,
To an ugly wooden image, they maintain;
She, the Lady Eleanora,
She, the Lady Eleanora von Alleyne!
And now, before the Gate, in sight of all, transmogrified,
Stands Lady Eleanora von Alleyne.
Before her castle-gate, in sight of all, transmogrified,
And he that won’t salute her must be fined in foaming pewter,
If a boor – but, if a burgher, in champagne,
For the Lady Eleanora,
Wooden Lady Eleanora von Alleyne!
Khidder
Thus said or sung
Khidder, the ever young.
Journeying, I passed an ancient town –
Of lindens green its battlements bore a crown,
And at its turreted gates, on either hand,
Did fountains stand,
In marble white of rarest chiselling,
The which on high did fling
Water, that then like rain went twinkling down
With a rainbow glancing in the spray
As it wreathed in the sunny ray.
I marked where, ’neath the frown
Of the dark rampart, smiled a garden fair;
And an old man was there,
That gathered fruit. ‘Good father,’ I began,
‘Since when, I pray you, standeth here
This goodly city with its fountains clear?’
To which that agèd man
Made answer – ‘Ever stood
The city where it stands today,
And as it stands so shall it stand for aye,
Come evil days or good.’
Him gathering fruit I left, and journeyed on;
But when a thousand years were come and gone
Again I passed that way, and lo!
There was no city, there were no
Fountains of chiselling rare,
No garden fair;
Only
A lonely
Shepherd was piping there,
Whose little flock seemed less
In that wide pasture of the wilderness.
‘Good friend,’ quoth I,
‘How long hath the fair city passed away,
That stood with gates so high,
With fountains bright, and gardens gay,
Where now these sheep do stray?’
And he replied, ‘What withers makes but room
For what springs up in verdurous bloom –
Sheep have grazed ever here, and here will graze for aye.’
Him pip
ing there I left, and journeyed on –
But when a thousand years were come and gone,
Again I passed
That way, and see! there was a lake
That darkened in the blast,
And waves that brake
With a melancholy roar
Along that lonely shore.
And on a shingly point that ran
Far out into the lake, a fisherman
Was hauling in his net. To him I said,
‘Good friend,
I fain would know
Since when it is that here these waters flow.’
Whereat he shook his head,
And answer made, ‘Heaven lend
Thee better wit, good brother! Ever here
These waters flowed, and so
Will ever flow;
And aye in this dark rolling mere
Men fished, and still fish,
And ever will fish,
Until fish
No more in water swim.’
Him
Hauling his net I left, and journeyed on,
But when a thousand years were come and gone,
Again I passed that way, and lo! there stood,
Where waves had rolled, a green and flourishing wood –
Flourishing in youth it seemed, and yet was old,
And there it stood where deep blue waves had rolled.
A place of pleasant shade!
A wandering wind among the branches played,
And birds were now where fish had been;
And through the depth of green,
In many a gush the golden sunshine streamed;
And small flowers gleamed
About the brown and mossy
Roots of the ancient trees,
And the cushioned sward so glossy,
That compassed these.
Here as I passed, there met
Me, on the border of that forest wide,
One with an axe, whom when I spied,
Quoth I, ‘Good neighbour, let
Me ask, I pray you, how long hath the wood
Stood,
Spreading its covert, broad and green,
Here, where mine eyes have seen
A royal city stand, whose battlements
Were like the ancient rocks;
And then a place for shepherds’ tents,
And pasturage of flocks;
And then,
Roughening beneath the blast,
A vast
Dark mere – a haunt of fishermen?’
There was a cold surprise
In the man’s eyes
While thus I spake, and, as I made an end,
This was his dry
Reply –
‘Facetious friend,
This wood
Hath ever stood
Even where it stands today;
And as it stands, so shall it stand for aye.
The Penguin Book of Irish Poetry Page 43
