The Poems of Schiller — First period. Friedrich von Schiller

On the wings of Love the future hastens

          In the arms of ages past to lie;

         And Saturnus, as he onward speeds him,

          Long hath sought his bride — Eternity!

         Soon Saturnus will his bride discover, —

          So the mighty oracle hath said;

         Blazing worlds will turn to marriage torches

          When Eternity with Time shall wed!

         Then a fairer, far more beauteous morning,

          Laura, on our love shall also shine,

         Long as their blest bridal-night enduring: —

          So rejoice thee, Laura — Laura mine!

      TO LAURA AT THE HARPSICHORD

         When o'er the chords thy fingers stray,

         My spirit leaves its mortal clay,

          A statue there I stand;

         Thy spell controls e'en life and death,

         As when the nerves a living breath

          Receive by Love's command! 1

         More gently zephyr sighs along

         To listen to thy magic song;

         The systems formed by heavenly love

         To sing forever as they move,

         Pause in their endless-whirling round

         To catch the rapture-teeming sound;

         'Tis for thy strains they worship thee, —

         Thy look, enchantress, fetters me!

         From yonder chords fast-thronging come

          Soul-breathing notes with rapturous speed,

         As when from out their heavenly home

          The new-born seraphim proceed;

         The strains pour forth their magic might,

         As glittering suns burst through the night,

         When, by Creation's storm awoke,

         From chaos' giant-arm they broke.

          Now sweet, as when the silv'ry wave

          Delights the pebbly beach to lave;

          And now majestic as the sound

          Of rolling thunder gathering round;

         Now pealing more loudly, as when from yon height

         Descends the mad mountain-stream, foaming and bright;

            Now in a song of love

             Dying away,

            As through the aspen grove

             Soft zephyrs play:

         Now heavier and more mournful seems the strain,

         As when across the desert, death-like plain,

         Whence whispers dread and yells despairing rise,

         Cocytus' sluggish, wailing current sighs.

          Maiden fair, oh, answer me!

          Are not spirits leagued with thee?

          Speak they in the realms of bliss

          Other language e'er than this?

      GROUP FROM TARTARUS

         Hark! like the sea in wrath the heavens assailing,

         Or like a brook through rocky basin wailing,

         Comes from below, in groaning agony,

         A heavy, vacant torment-breathing sigh!

         Their faces marks of bitter torture wear,

         While from their lips burst curses of despair;

          Their eyes are hollow, and full of woe,

           And their looks with heartfelt anguish

          Seek Cocytus' stream that runs wailing below,

           For the bridge o'er its waters they languish.

         And they say to each other in accents of fear,

         "Oh, when will the time of fulfilment appear?"

         High over them boundless eternity quivers,

         And the scythe of Saturnus all-ruthlessly, shivers!

      RAPTURE — TO LAURA

         From earth I seem to wing my flight,

         And sun myself in Heaven's pure light,

          When thy sweet gaze meets mine

         I dream I quaff ethereal dew,

         When my own form I mirrored view

          In those blue eyes divine!

         Blest notes from Paradise afar,

         Or strains from some benignant star

          Enchant my ravished ear:

         My Muse feels then the shepherd's hour

         When silvery tones of magic power

          Escape those lips so dear!

         Young Loves around thee fan their wings —

         Behind, the maddened fir-tree springs,

          As when by Orpheus fired:

         The poles whirl round with swifter motion,

         When in the dance, like waves o'er Ocean,

          Thy footsteps float untired!

         Thy look, if it but beam with love,

         Could make the lifeless marble move,

          And hearts in rocks enshrine:

         My visions to reality

         Will turn, if, Laura, in thine eye

          I read — that thou art mine!

      TO LAURA. (THE MYSTERY OF REMINISCENCE.) 2

1

The allusion in the original is to the seemingly magical power possessed by a Jew conjuror, named Philadelphia, which would not be understood in English.

2

This most exquisite love poem is founded on the platonic notion, that souls were united in a pre-existent state, that love is the yearning of the spirit to reunite with the spirit with which it formerly made one — and which it discovers on earth. The idea has often been made subservient to poetry, but never with so earnest and elaborate a beauty.