"AND WHAT YOU CALL THE SPIRIT OF THE TIME, I'VE LONG SUSPECTED (THEODORE MARTIN'S GOETHE)

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WE LONG TO USE WHAT LIES BEYOND OUR SCOPE,-(GOETHE)

A SPRING LANDSCAPE.

II.

A SPRING LANDSCAPE.

REED from the ice are river and hill

By the quickening glance of the gracious spring;
Green with promise are valley and hill.
Old Winter, palsied and shivering,

Back has crept to his mountains bleak,
And sends from them, as he flies appalled,
Showers of impotent hail, to streak

The fields that are green as emerald.

But the sun no shimmer of whiteness brooks;
The earth is through all her pores alive,
Budding and bursting, and all things strive
To enliven with colours their winterly looks;

And the landscape, though bare of flowers, makes cheer
With people dressed out in their holiday gear.
Turn round, and from this height look down
Over the vineyards upon the town.
A motley medley is making its way
Out from the murky wide-mouthed gate.
Blithely they bask in the sun to-day.
The Saviour's Rising they celebrate,
For they have risen themselves, I ween;
From the close, damp rooms of their hovels mean,
From the bands of business, and labour, and care,
From the gables and roofs that oppress them there,
From the stifling closeness of street and lane,

From the churches' gloom-inspiring night,

They all have emerged into the light.
But, see how they are spreading amain
Across the gardens and fields, and how

The river, as far as the eye can note,

Is all alive with shallop and boat.

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YET CANNOT USE EVEN WHAT WITHIN IT LIES."-MARTIN'S GOETHE.

IS BUT THE SPIRIT OF THE MEN IN WHICH THE TIMES THEY PRATE OF ARE REFLECTED."-MARTIN'S GOETHE.

THEY GIVE A BEAUTY TO THE WINTER'S NIGHTS, A CHEERFUL GLOW THAT CAN ITS CHILL ASSUAGE;-(MARTIN'S GOETHE)

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HOW DIFFERENTLY THE SPIRIT'S PURE DELIGHTS

THEODORE MARTIN.

And look, the last departing now,
Laden so deeply it scarce can float.
Far up on the hills as the pathways run,
Gay dresses are glistening in the sun.
Hark now the din of the village! Here
Is the people's true heaven. With hearty glee
Little and great, how they shout and cheer!

[From "Faust." The reader may compare this with the prose version of Mr. Hayward, and the poetical version of Lord Leveson Gower.]

III.

THE FISHER.

HE water plashed, the water played,
A fisher sat thereby,

And marked, as to and fro it swayed,
His float with dreamy eye;

And as he sits and watches there,
He sees the floods unclose,
And from the parting waves a fair
Mermaiden slowly rose.

She sang to him with witching wile,—
"My brood why wilt thou snare,

With human craft and human guile,
To die in scorching air?

Ah! didst thou know how happy we,

Who dwell in waters clear,

Thou wouldst come down at once to me,

And rest for ever here.

"The sun and ladye-moon they lave

Their tresses in the main,

And, breathing freshness from the wave,

Come doubly bright again.

WAFT US FROM BOOK TO BOOK, FROM PAGE TO PAGE!

AND SOME FINE MANUSCRIPT WHEN YOU UNROLL, AH, THEN ALL HEAVEN DESCENDS INTO YOUR SOUL!"-MARTIN'S GOETHE.

"WHO OF SOME CHANCE GREEN LEAVES DOTH CHAPLETS TWINE OF GLORY FOR DESERT IN EVERY FIELD,-(GOETHE)

"THE SHOWY LIVES ITS LITTLE HOUR; The true-(goethe)

MIGNON'S SONG.

The deep blue sky, so moist and clear,
Hath it for thee no lure?

Dost thine own face not woo thee down
Unto our waters pure?"

The water rushed and bubbled by-
It lapped his naked feet;

He thrilled as though he felt the touch
Of maiden kisses sweet.

She spoke to him, she sang to him—
Resistless was her strain-
Half-drawn, he sank beneath the wave,
And ne'er was seen again.

[From "Ballads of Goethe."]

IV.

MIGNON'S SONG.*

K

NOWEST thou the land where the pale citron blows
And the gold orange through dark foliage glows?
A soft wind flutters from the deep blue sky,
The myrtle blooms, and towers the laurel high.
Knowest thou it well?

Oh there, with thee!

Oh that I might, my own beloved one, flee!

Knowest thou the house? On pillars rest its beams,
Bright is its hall, in light one chamber gleams,
And marble statues stand and look on me-
What have they done, thou hapless child, to thee?
Knowest thou it well?

Oh there, with thee!

Oh that I might, my loved protector, flee!

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* This has been set to a fine melody by Beethoven.

TO AFTER-TIMES BEARS RAPTURES EVER NEW."-MARTIN'S GOETHE,

MAN'S POWER IMMORTAL IN THE BARD REVEALED!"-MARTIN'S GOETHE.

ASSURES OLYMPUS, GIVES THE STAMP DIVINE.

NO: LEAD ME TO SOME HEAVEN-CALM NOOK, WHERE PURE DELIGHT HATH FOR THE BARD ALONE ITS SOURCE,-(Goethe)

292

OH, TELL ME NOT OF YONDER MOTLEY CREW;

THEODORE MARTIN.

Knowest thou the track that o'er the mountain goes,

Where the mule threads its way through mist and snows,
Where dwelt in caves the dragon's ancient brood,
Topples the crag, and o'er it roars the flood.
Knowest thou it well?

Oh come with me!

There lies our road-O father, let us flee!

[From "Ballads of Goethe." The first lines have been imitated by Byron:

"Know'st thou the land where the orange and myrtle
Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime?" &c.
Bride of Abydos.

Mignon's Song is introduced in Goethe's romance of "Wilhelm Meister," bk. iii., c. 1. We subjoin Mr. Carlyle's translation of it :

"Know'st thou the land where citron-apples bloom,
And oranges like gold in leafy gloom,

A gentle wind from deep blue heaven blows,
The myrtle thick, and high the laurel grows?
Know'st thou it then?

'Tis there! 'tis there!

O my true loved one, thou with me must go!
"Know'st thou the house, its porch with pillars tall,
The rooms do glitter, glitters bright the hall,
And marble statues stand, and look each one:
What's this, poor child, to thee they've done?
Know'st thou it then?

'Tis there! 'tis there!

O my protector, thou with me must go!

"Know'st thou the hill, the bridge that hangs on cloud?
The mules in mist grope o'er the torrent loud,
In caves lie coiled the dragon's ancient brood,
The crag leaps down and over it the flood:
Know'st thou it then?

'Tis there! 'tis there! Our way runs; O my father, wilt thou go?"

"Wilhelm heard the sound of music before his door. He opened it ; Mignon came in, and sang him the song we have just given above.

"The music and general expression of it pleased our friend extremely, though he could not understand all the words. He made her once more repeat the stanzas and explain them; he wrote them down, and translated them into his native language. But the originality of its turns he could

YON SURGING THRONG, OH, VEIL IT FROM MY VIEW!

WHERE LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP WAKE, REFINE, EXPAND OUR HEART'S BEST BLESSINGS WITH CELESTIAL HAND."-MARTIN'S GOethe.

THE WHOLE HORIZON OF FUTURITY-(MASSEY)

"THERE MUST BE ISSUES THAT WE DO NOT SEE.

66 WE ARE SO FEARFUL OF THE UNFATHOMABLE!"-MASSEY.

"NOT LOST, BUT GONE BEFORE."

imitate only from afar; its childlike innocence of expression vanished from
it in the process of reducing its broken phraseology to uniformity, and com-
bining its disjointed parts. The charm of the tune, moreover, was entirely
incomparable.

"She began every verse in a stately and solemn manner, as if she wished to draw attention towards something wonderful, as if she had something weighty to communicate. In the third line her tones became deeper and gloomier; the 'know'st thou it then?' was uttered with a show of mystery and eager circumspectness; in the ''tis there! 'tis there!' lay a boundless longing; and her 'with me must go!' she modified at each repetition, so that now it appeared to entreat and implore, now to impel and persuade.

"On finishing her song for the second time, she stood silent for a moment, looked keenly at Wilhelm, and asked him, 'Know'st thou the land?' 'It must mean Italy,' said Wilhelm; 'where didst thou get the little song?' 'Italy!' said Mignon, with an earnest air: 'if thou go to Italy, take me along with thee; for I am too cold here!' 'Hast thou been there already, little dear?' said Wilhelm. But the child was silent, and nothing more could be got out of her."-Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship, bk. iii., c. 1.]

Gerald Massey.

[MASSEY is one of the people's poets. He was born at Tring, in Hertfordshire, on the 28th of May 1828, of poor and humble parents, and his early years were spent in a silk-mill and a straw-plait factory. He received the rudiments of education at the National School, and soon acquired a thirst for knowledge which could only be satisfied by drinking deep of "the Pierian spring." In 1843 he repaired to London, gaining his livelihood as an errand-boy, and afterwards as a tradesman, until he felt himself strong enough to trust to his pen for support. His "Voices of Freedom" were published in 1849; "The Ballad of Babe Christabel, and other Poems," in 1855; "Craigcrook Castle" in 1856; and "Havelock's March" in 1861. He is also the author of a prose work on 'Shakspeare's Sonnets;" and,

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293

a year or two ago, issued another volume of poems, entitled "A Tale of
Eternity" (1870). His poems are remarkable for their fluency, vividness of
expression, tenderness, fire, and opulence of imagery.]

"THE INFINITE IS FULL OF WHISPERings!"-geRALD MASSEY.

IS NOWHERE VISIBLE FROM WHERE WE STAND; WE ARE BUT DWELLERS IN A LOWLY LAND."-MASSEY.