“Here, where thou thronest in thy hall,
I see there are four doors in all;
And through all four thy slaves may gaze
Upon the brightness of thy face.

“That I came hither safely through
Was to thy gracious message due,
And, blinded by thy splendor’s flame,
I cannot tell the way I came.”

After Heine:  Countess Jutta

From the German of Heinrich Heine.

The Countess Jutta passed over the Rhine
In a light canoe by the moon’s pale shine. 
The handmaid rows and the Countess speaks: 
“Seest thou not there where the water breaks
        Seven corpses swim
        In the moonlight dim? 
So sorrowful swim the dead!

“They were seven knights full of fire and youth,
They sank on my heart and swore me truth. 
I trusted them; but for Truth’s sweet sake,
Lest they should be tempted their oaths to break,
        I had them bound,
        And tenderly drowned! 
So sorrowful swim the dead!”

The merry Countess laughed outright! 
It rang so wild in the startled night! 
Up to the waist the dead men rise
And stretch lean fingers to the skies. 
        They nod and stare
        With a glassy glare! 
So sorrowful swim the dead!

A Blessing.

AFTER HEINE.

When I look on thee and feel how dear,
  How pure, and how fair thou art,
Into my eyes there steals a tear,
And a shadow mingled of love and fear
  Creeps slowly over my heart.

And my very hands feel as if they would lay
  Themselves on thy fair young head,
And pray the good God to keep thee alway
As good and lovely, as pure and gay,—­
  When I and my wild love are dead.

To the Young.

AFTER HEINE.

Letyour feet not falter, your course not alter
  By golden apples, till victory’s won! 
The sword’s sharp clangor, the dart’s shrill anger,
  Swerve not the hero thundering on.

A bold beginning is half the winning,
  An Alexander makes worlds his fee. 
No long debating!  The Queens are waiting
  In his pavilion on bended knee.

Thus swift pursuing his wars and wooing,
  He mounts old Darius’ bed and throne. 
O glorious ruin!  O blithe undoing! 
  O drunk death-triumph in Babylon!

The Golden Calf.

AFTER HEINE.

Double flutes and horns resound
As they dance the idol round;
Jacob’s daughters, madly reeling,
  Whirl about the golden calf. 
    Hear them laugh! 
Kettledrums and laughter pealing.

Dresses tucked above their knees,
Maids of noblest families,
In the swift dance blindly wheeling,
  Circle in their wild career
    Round the steer,—­
Kettledrums and laughter pealing.

Aaron’s self, the guardian gray
Of the faith, at last gives way,
Madness all his senses stealing;
  Prances in his high priest’s coat
    Like a goat,—­
Kettledrums and laughter pealing.