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Ye men upon your shoulders bearing Baskets beneath whose weight ye tire, Filled with the bread your fields have nourished,
And ye have baked by home's glad fire;
And ye who sport long braided tresses,
Black-forest maidens, slim and brown, Who on the sloop's green bench with caution Your pitchers and your pails lay down;
These are the self-same pails and pitchers
The stone-built fountain at the hamlet,
They soon shall deck the rough log-cabin
Ye'll hand them to the thirsty guest.
From them the Cherokee o'erwearied
Shall drink, exhausted with the chase, But from the vintage, borne rejoicing, Green leaves no more their forms shall
Oh! wherefore are ye thus departing?
The Neckar vale bears grapes and corn, The Schwarzwald's fill'd with gloomy tannin, In Spessart rings the Alpine horn.
How often in those strange, wild forests
For home's green mountains ye will pine, For Deutschland's fields with ripe grain waving,
Her hills thick planted with the vine.
How must the shade of days departed Come glancing oft athwart your dreams, Till like some joyous, calm old legend,
Standing before your soul it seems.
The boatman calls-depart in gladness; In God's good keeping may you all be found;
May joy forever be your pastime,
Your fields with plenteous harvests still be crown'd.
The "Sunken City" is a wild and irregular lay, founded on a tradition which represents a town of the name of Julin, as having been submerged by the waters of the ocean.
O'er the silent waters my course I keep,
Thither I'll hasten, and there recall
The glories departed, the pleasures flown, And the magical realm of death shall fall, When the breath of the living is o'er it thrown.
Then people were more for war and gain,
Powerless sink both his arms and feet,
As he hastens the city to greet.
He lives among halls of the olden day,
Beneath, gleam splendors past away,
"The Mirage" has been regarded as one
Who late hath crossed the lion's realm? the prints of paw and hoof are here; Tombuctoo's caravan perchance-far in the distance gleams a spear.
Lo! banners wave; the Emir's robe streams thro' the dusty cloud,
With wandering gaze she looks around "Ho! sleepest thou, my love?
How changed the sky's late brassy hue! it gleams like steel above.
Where is the desert's yellow glow? 'tis dazzling light all round,
While peers the camel's stately head above the And shimmers there, as 'twere the sea, in Al
giers' rocky bound.
Which in the journey's reckless haste, a youth-Yon ful Arab lost.
Now round the tam'risk's thorny stem see shreds of trappings fly,
And close at hand a dusty skin lies empty, torn, and dry.
Who is it spurns the gaping pouch, with looks of sorest need?
It is the dark-haired- swarthy chief of Biledulgereed.
fortress gained, how soon will close this pilgrimage of ours.
"Twas one of autumn's early days, the sea rose high, the east wind shrilly blew,
When in the far horizon west, a white-sailed barque appeared in view;
The following vivid but rather revolting description is entitled
UNDER THE PALM-TREES.
Mark yon manes athwart the bushes! in the wood they're waging war,
From yonder palm grove hearest thou the tumult and the roar?
Come, let us mount this teak-tree-gently! lest thy quiver rattling
Should disturb them-see the tiger and the leopard madly battling.
Around the body of a white man, whom the tiger snatched away,
As on this slope reposing, pillowed 'mid scarlet blooms he lay,
Round the stranger-who for three months past had shared our tent in quiet,
Collecting plants and insects rare, the fierce destroyers riot.
Alas! no arrow now can ransom him; his eye is closed in night—
Red his slumber as the blossom of the fiery thistle bright;
Like a coffin seems the hollow of the hill whereon he's lying,
On his cheek the tiger's claw-mark, and the blood his couch is dyeing.
Oh, white man! many a tear for thee shall dim thy mother's eyes
Mark! at the tiger furiously the raging leopard flies;
Yet still the former holds the prey, his left paw on it placing,
And with the right, in anger raised, his fierce opponent facing.
Oh, what a bound! the dead man's arm the leaper seizes fast,
And rushes on, but yet the other battles to the
Fiercely fighting, swol'n with fury, rampant While 'twixt them stands erect the corpse for now they're raging,
which the strife is waging.
Lo! gliding from the boughs above, what is it strikes my view,
With vengeful hiss, and poisoned fang, and
Oh, monstrous snake! thou leav'st to neither
In 1839 Freiligrath retired from com
But in my way I wandered forth-I threw my-mercial pursuits. In 1842 he derived a self upon the sand
The Lord had crushed Behemoth's head, and small accession to his pecuniary resources, ! given him to the fisher's hand. from a pension bestowed upon him by the
King of Prussia, who, doubtless, hoped by this display of munificence to control the course of his beneficiary, and render his talents subservient to the cause of despotism. This design was speedily made apparent in the mutilation or suppression of the poet's productions; and he soon became convinced that his duty, as an independent writer, required the sacrifice of his pension. Acting in accordance with this conviction, at the expiration of the year 1843 he refused any longer to receive it. In 1844 he published a volume of poems which he called his "Glaubensbekenntniss," or confession of faith, in the preface to which, while he disavows having ever entertained other than liberal sentiments on political questions, he does not scruple to acknowledge a progress in the formation and development of his opinions. He repels the idea of being a traitor or a renegade, but wisely and justly observes, that "he who stands at the goal, should not deny even the circuitous route by which he has reached it." His position, at this period, is thus defined:
"Firmly and unflinchingly I take my stand by the side of those who are resolute to breast the current of despotism. No more life for me
without freedom! However the lot of this
book and my own may fall, so long as the oppression endures under which I see my country suffering, my heart will bleed and heave indignantly, and my mouth and my arm shall not be weary of doing what they may towards the attainment of better days. Thereto help me, next unto God, my countrymen. My face is turned towards the future."
The poet had prudently crossed the frontier of Germany before this publication appeared; and it was well for his personal safety that this precaution had been taken, as an order was immediately issued for his arrest, as well as for the suppression of the work. "The author," says William Howitt in an article in the People's Journal, "retired with his accomplished wife to Brussels, where he resided some time. But here he found
himself not safe from the long arm of
Prussian influence. A Herr Henizen, who had been obliged to flee from Prussia to Paris for a similar cause, was, while living there in the utmost quiet, ordered to quit
France in eight and forty hours. He came to Brussels, and with him Freiligrath concluded to seek an asylum in Switzerland. Within six hours of his quitting Brussels, another German, singularly enough of the same name, and residing in the same place, was arrested for Freiligrath by mistake." Freiligrath continued to reside in Switzerland until the autumn of 1846, when he took up his residence in London, where he was employed as a clerk in a well-known German banking-house. Here, however, he did not remain long. During the revolutionary crisis of 1847-8, he visited Dusseldorf, where he was arrested and tried for seditious publications tending to destroy the authority of the government. His celebrated poem, "Die todten ans Lebenden," (the dead to the living,) founded on a well-known incident of the revolutionary struggle in Germany, was more especially selected as the basis of this prosecution. His trial, which was, we believe, the first instance in the history of German jurisprudence, where the fate of a political offender was referred to the decision of a jury, resulted in the triumphant acquittal of the poet, and the complete discomfiture of his opponents.
A translation or two from the Glaubensbekenntniss, exhibiting Freiligrath's communia dicere-will close our remarks capacity for that difficult task-propriè on his life and writings. Most of the poems comprised in this work contain political allusions to local politics, with which none but a German can be presumed to be familiar-a circumstance which lessens the utility, while it increases the difficulty, of presenting them in an English version. The following song, apart from its intrinsic merit, derives additional importance from the fact of having been honored by the censor's veto.