VII.

  I could not feel the breezes bring
    Rich odours from the trees;
  I could not hear the linnets sing,
    And think on themes like these. 
  The painted insects as they pass
    In swift and motley strife,
  The very lizard in the grass
    Would scare me back to life.

  VIII.

  Then is the past so gloomy now
    That it may never bear
  The open smile of nature’s brow,
    Or meet the sunny air? 
  I know not that—­but joy is power,
    However short it last;
  And joy befits the present hour,
    If sadness fits the past.

DANUBE AND THE EUXINE

  “Danube, Danube! wherefore com’st thou
    Red and raging to my caves? 
  Wherefore leap thy swollen waters
    Madly through the broken waves? 
  Wherefore is thy tide so sullied
    With a hue unknown to me;
  Wherefore dost thou bring pollution
    To the old and sacred sea?”

  “Ha! rejoice, old Father Euxine! 
    I am brimming full and red;
  Noble tidings do I carry
    From my distant channel-bed. 
  I have been a Christian river
    Dull and slow this many a year,
  Rolling down my torpid waters
    Through a silence morne and drear;
  Have not felt the tread of armies
    Trampling on my reedy shore;
  Have not heard the trumpet calling,
    Or the cannon’s gladsome roar;
  Only listened to the laughter
    From the village and the town,
  And the church-bells, ever jangling,
    As the weary day went down. 
  So I lay and sorely pondered
    On the days long since gone by,
  When my old primaeval forests
    Echoed to the war-man’s cry;
  When the race of Thor and Odin
    Held their battles by my side,
  And the blood of man was mingling
    Warmly with my chilly tide. 
  Father Euxine! thou rememb’rest
    How I brought thee tribute then—­
  Swollen corpses, gashed and gory,
    Heads and limbs of slaughter’d men? 
  Father Euxine! be thou joyful! 
    I am running red once more—­
  Not with heathen blood, as early,
    But with gallant Christian gore! 
  For the old times are returning,
    And the Cross is broken down,
  And I hear the tocsin sounding
    In the village and the town;
  And the glare of burning cities
    Soon shall light me on my way—­
  Ha! my heart is big and jocund
    With the draught I drank to-day. 
  Ha!  I feel my strength awakened,
    And my brethren shout to me;
  Each is leaping red and joyous
    To his own awaiting sea. 
  Rhine and Elbe are plunging downward
    Through their wild anarchic land,
  Everywhere are Christians falling
    By their brother Christians’ hand! 
  Yea, the old times are returning,
    And the olden gods are here! 
  Take my tribute, Father Euxine,
    To thy waters dark and drear.