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Tibullus to his mistress said,

"I would thus breathe my last adieu,
My eyes still with your glances fed,
My dying hand caressing you."

But when this world grows all remote,
When with the life the soul must go,
Can yet the eye on Delia dote?

The hand a lover's touch bestow?

Death changes, as we pass his gate,

What in our days of strength we knew: Who would with joy anticipate

At his last gasp love's rendezvous?

And Delia, in her turn, no less
Must pass into eternal night,
Oblivious of her loveliness,

Oblivious of her youth's delight.

We enter life, we play our part,

We die-nor learn the reason here;

From out the unknown void we start,

And whither bound?- God knows, my dear.

Translation of Edward Bruce Hamley.

JOOST VAN DER VONDEL

(1587-1679)

HE long life of Joost van der Vondel, Holland's greatest poet, was contemporaneous with the most brilliant period of the

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Dutch renaissance. As triumphant England in Elizabeth's reign brought forth mighty children, so the new-born Republic of the United Provinces in its turn gave birth to such men as Hooft and Vondel, Brederoo and Huygens. The background of Vondel's life was the city of Amsterdam, whose society, representative perhaps of the most assertive forces in Holland's intellectual and spiritual development, was expressing its intense vitality in the pursuit of literature, of art, in the heats of religious controversy, seeking in a thousand ways to give metropolitan embodiment to the new-born national consciousness. To this city Vondel had come as a boy. He had been born at Cologne, November 17th, 1587; his maternal grandfather, Peter Kranken, had taken no mean rank among the poets of Brabant. His parents were Anabaptists, who moved from city to city in the pursuit of religious freedom, settling finally at Amsterdam.

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Vondel, being designed for a tradesman, JooST VAN DER VONDEL received but an indifferent education; his

innate love of learning drawing him, however, to independent study, he was throughout his long life a student, seeking his inspiration at the fountain-heads of culture. In 1612 he produced his first drama, 'Het Pascha,' the subject of which was the Exodus of the Children of Israel. After the approved Dutch model, it was written in Alexandrines, in five acts, with choral interludes between. It gave little evidence of the genius which was to produce 'Lucifer.' For the next eight years Vondel did no original work, being seemingly satisfied with the leisurely development of his powers. The death of Brederoo, Holland's greatest comic dramatist, left a high place vacant, which Vondel was soon to fill. In 1620 he published a second tragedy, 'Jerusalem Laid Desolate'; and in 1625 a third, which secured him his

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fame. 'Palamedes, or Murdered Innocence,' owed its notoriety as much perhaps to the nature of its subject as to its intrinsic merits; appearing as it did at a time when all Holland was palpitating with religious controversy. In the hero of the play, Palamedes, the people of Amsterdam recognized Barneveldt; whose support of the Arminian doctrine had led to his execution in 1618 through the powerful influence of the Calvinists, headed by Prince Maurice of Nassau. Vondel at once became popular with the highest circles in Amsterdam and Holland. The obscure tradesman obtained fame in a night. Plunging into the controversy, he now began to wage war against the Counter-Remonstrants, as the Calvinists were termed; launching at them a great number of satirical pamphlets in verse, among the most noted of which are The Harpoon,' 'The Horse-Comb,' and 'The Decretum Horrible.'

In 1638 an event occurred which diverted the genius of Vondel into another channel. The Dutch Academy, founded in 1617 as in the main a dramatic guild, had later coalesced with the two noted chambers of rhetoric, the "Eglantine" and the "White Lavender." In 1638, on the strength of these reinforcements, it erected what it had long needed, a large public theatre. On the opening night a new tragedy by Vondel was presented, -'Gysbreght van Aemstel,' founded upon incidents in early Dutch history. For many years following, Vondel wrote Scriptural pieces for the theatre in the heroic style; among them, 'Solomon,' 'Samson,' 'Adonijah,' 'Adam in Banishment,' and 'Noah, or the Destruction of the Old World.' In 1654 appeared his great masterpiece, 'Lucifer'; a tragedy of sublime conception, to which a peculiar interest is attached as being supposedly the work which suggested to Milton the subject of 'Paradise Lost.' Milton is known to have studied the Dutch language about the time of the production of 'Lucifer'; there are verbal correspondences between the two plays. The theory of Milton's indebtedness to Vondel has been considered by Thomas Lovell Beddoes, by Edmund Gosse, and by Mr. George Edmundson in a monograph entitled 'Milton and Vondel.' Vondel's 'Lucifer,' however, is concerned with the fall of Lucifer and not with the fall of Adam.

The years following the production of his mightiest tragedy were full of labor and sorrow to Vondel. Reverses had come upon him; from 1658 to 1668 he was obliged to work as a clerk in a bank, a servant of hard taskmasters, who were incapable of appreciation of or reverence for his genius. In his eightieth year he was liberated from this slavery by the city of Amsterdam, from which he received a pension. Until his death in 1679 Vondel continued to write, his literary energy being seemingly inexhaustible. Among his works of this period is a rendition of the 'Metamorphoses' of Ovid into

Dutch verse. His entire writings fill nine quarto volumes, embracing almost every conceivable subject and every well-known verse form. Vondel remains the most powerful, and perhaps the most representative, poet of Holland, whose writings gave adequate embodiment to the manifold forces of her golden age. His Lucifer) was translated into English by L. C. Van Noppen (1898).

TO GEERAERT VOSSIUS

ON THE LOSS OF HIS SON

HY mourn'st thou, Vossius? why has pain
Its furrows to thy pale brow given?

WHY

Seek not to hold thy son from heaven! 'Tis heaven that draws,-resign him, then!

Yes, banish every futile tear;

And offer to its Source above,
In gratitude and humble love,
The choicest of thy treasures here.

We murmur if the bark should strand;
But not when richly laden she
Comes from the wild and raging sea,
Within a haven safe to land.

We murmur if the balm be shed:

Yes, murmur for the odor's sake;

But not whene'er the glass may break,

If that which filled it be not fled.

He strives in vain who seeks to stay

The bounding waters in their course,
When hurled from rocks with giant force,
Towards some calm and spacious bay.

Thus turns the earthly globe; - though o'er
His infant's corse a father mourn,

Or child bedew its parents' urn,
Death passes neither house nor door.

Death nor for gay and blooming youth,
Nor peevish age, his stroke defers;
He chains the lips of orators,

Nor cares for wisdom, worth, or truth.

Blest is the mind that, fixed and free,
To wanton pleasures scorns to yield,
And wards as with a pliant shield
The arrows of adversity.

Translation of Sir John Bowring.

FROM LUCIFER'

[The scene of the drama is laid throughout in heaven. The actors are the angels. Lucifer has sent Apollyon to Eden to view the new-made man and woman, and to inquire into their state. Apollyon thus describes Eve.]

Beelzebub

EARCH all our angel bands, in beauty well arrayed,

They will but monsters seem, by the dawn-light of a

maid.

It seems you burn in love for this new womankind!
Apollyon-

My great wing-feather in that amorous flame, I find
I've singed! 'Twas hard indeed to soar up from below,
To sweep, and reach the verge of Angel-borough so;
I parted, but with pain, and three times looked around:
There shines no seraph form in all the ethereal bound
Like hers, whose hanging hair, in golden glory, seems
To rush down from her head in a torrent of sunbeams,
And flow along her back. So clad in light and grace,
Stately she treads, and charms the daylight with her face:
Let pearls and mother o' pearl their claims before her furl,
Her brightness passes far the beauty of a pearl!

Beelzebub

But what can profit man this beauty that must fade,
And wither like a flower, and shortly be decayed?

[Lucifer's jealousy of the new race being aroused, he thus addresses his attendant angels.]

Swift spirits, let us stay the chariot of the dawn;

For high enough, in sooth, God's morning star is drawn,-
Yea, driven up high enough! 'tis time for my great car
To yield before the advent of this double star,
That rises from below, and seeks, in sudden birth,
To tarnish heaven's gold with splendor from the earth!

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