; ;

; ; ; ;

8 LONGFELLOW'S POEMS.
" Shall I have nought that is And the first watch of night is
fair ? " saith he, given
"Have noughtbut the bearded To the red planet Mars.
grain ?
Though the breath of these flow- Is itthe tender star of love ?
ers is sweet to me, The star of love and dreams?
I will give them all back again." O no from that blue tent above,
!

A hero's armor gleams.

He gazed at the flowers with tear-
ful eyes, And earnest thoughts witliin me
Hekissed their drooping leaves; rise.
It was for tlie Lord of Paradise When I bcliold afar.
He bound them in his sheaves. Suspended in the evening skies,
The shield of that red star.
" My Lord has need of these flow-
erets gay," star of strength ! I see thee stand
The Reaper said, and smiled And smile upon my pain;
" Dear tokens of the earth are they. Thou bcckonest with thy mailed
Where he was once a child. hand.
And I am strong again.
" They shall all bloom in fields of
"light, Within my breast there is no light.
Transplanted by my care, But the cold light of stars;
And saints, upon their garments 1 give the first watch of the night
wliite, To the red planet Mars.
Their sacred blossoms Avear."
The star of the unconquered will,
And the mother gave, in tears and He
rises in my
breast.
pain, Serene, and resolute, and still.
The flowers she most did love And calm, and self-possessed.
She knew she should find them all
again And thou, too, whosoe'er thou art,
In the fields of light above. That readest this brief psalm.
As one by one thy hopes depart,
O, not in cruelty, not in wrath, Be resolute and calm.
The Reaper came that day
'Twas an angel visited the green O fear not in a world like this.
earth. And thou shalt know ere long,
And took the flowers away. Know how sublime a thing it is
To suffer and be strong.

THE LIGHT OF STARS.

The night is come, but not too FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS.
soon
And sinking silently, When the hours of Day are num-
All silently, the little moon bered.
Drops down behind the sky. And the voices of the Night
Wake the better soul, thai slum-
There is no light in earth or heaven. bered.
Cut the cold light of stars To a holy, calm delight
 ; ;

FLOWERS. 9
Ere tlie evening lamps are lighted, FLOWERS.
And, like plmutunis grim uud
tall, Sp.\ke full well in language quaint
Shadows from the fitful firelight and olden.
Dance upon the parlor wall One who dwelleth by the castled
Rhine,
Then the forms of the departed When he called the tlowers, so
Enter at the open door; blue and golden.
The beloved, the true-hearted. Stars that in the earth's firma
Come to visit me once more ;
meut do shine.

He, the young and strong, who Stars they are, wherein we read
clierished our history,
Noble longings for the strife. As astrologers and seers of eld ;

By the roadside fell and perished. Yet not wrapped about with awful
Weary with the march of life! myster}'.
Like the burning stars, which
they beheld.
They, the holy ones and weakly,
Wlio tlie cross of suffering bore,
Folded their pale hands so meekly, Wondrous truths, and manifold as
Spake with us on earth no more! wondrous,
God hath written in those stars
And wilii them the Being Beaute- above
ous, But not less in the bright flowerets
Who
unto my youth was given. under us
More than all things else to love me. Stands the revelation of his love.
And is now a saint in heaven.
Bright and glorious is that revela-
With a slow and noiseless footstep, tion,
Comes that messenger divine, AVritten all over this great
Takes the vacant chair beside me, world of ours;
Lays lier gentle hand in mine. Making evident our own creation,
In these stars of earth, — these
And she sits and gazes at me golden flowers.
With those deep and tender eyes.
Like the .stars, so si ill and saint- And the Poet, faitiiful and far-
like, seeing.
Looking downward from the Sees, alike in stars and flowers, a
skies. part
Of the Self same, universal being.
Uttered not, yet comprehended, Which is (luobbing in his brain
Is the spirit's voiceless prayer, and heart.
Soft rebukes, iti blessings ended,
Bnatliiiig from her lips of air. Gorgeous flowerets in the sunlight
shining,
(), though oft depressed and lonely. Blo.ssoms tlaunting in the eye of
All my fears are laid aside,
If I but n;mcinbcr oidy Tremulous leaves, with soft and
Sucii as these have lived and silver lining.
died ! Buds that open only to decay:
 ; ; ; ; ;

10 LONGFELLOW'S POEMS.
Biilliaut hopes, all woven iu gor- In the cottage of the rudest peas-
geous tissues, ant.
Flaunting gayly in the golden In ancestral homes, whose crum-
light; bling towers.
Large desires with most uncertain Speaking of the Past unto the
issues, Present,
Tender wishes, blossoming at Tell us of the ancient Games of
night! Flowers

These in flowers and men are more In all places, then, and iu all sea-
than seeming; sons.
Workings are they of the self- Flowers expand their light and
same powers. soul-like wings.
Which the Poet, in no idle dream- Teaching us, by most persuasive
ing, reasons,
Seeth in himself and in the How akin they are to human
flowers. things.

Everywhere about us are they And with childlike, credulous af-

glowing. fection
Some like stars, to tell us Spring We behold their tender buds
is born expand
Others, their blue eyes with tears Emblems of our own great resur-
o'erflowiug. rection.
Stand like Ruth amid the golden Emblems of the bright and bet-
corn ter laud.

Not alone in Spring's armorial

bearing. THE BELEAGUERED CITY.
And in summer's green-embla-
zoned tield. I HAVE
read, in some old marvel-
But in arms of brave old Autumn's ous tale
wearing. Some legend strange and vague,
In the center of his brazen shield ;
That a midnight host of specters
pale
Not alone in meadows and green
Beleaguered the walls of Prague.
alleys,
On by the
the mountain-top, and Beside the Moldati's rushing
brink stream.
Of sequestered pools in woodland With the wan moon overhead,
valleys. There stood, as in an awful dream,
Where the slaves of Nature The army of the dead.
stoop to drink
White as a sea-fog, landward
Not alone in her vast dome of bound.
glory. The spectral camp was seen,
Not on graves of bird and beast And, witli a sorrowful, deep sound,
alone, The river flowed between.
But in old cathedrals, high and
hoary. No other voice nor sound was
On the tombs of heroes, carved there,
in stone; No drum, nor sentry's pace;
 ; ! ! ! ;

14 LONGFELLOW'S POEMS.
The embracing sunbeams chastely Far the glimmering tapers shed
play, Faint light on the cowled head
And gladden these deep soli- And the censer burning swung.
tudes. Where, before the altar, hung
The blood-red banner, that
Where, twisted round the barren with prayer
oak. Had been consecrated there.
The summer vine in beauty And the nun's sweet hymn was
clung, heard the while,
A.nd summer winds the stillness Sung low in the dim, mysterious
broke, aisle.
The crystal icicle is hung.

Where from their frozen urns,

"Take thy banner! May it

mute springs wave

Proudly o'er the good and
Pour out the river's gradual tide.
brave;
Shrilly the skater's iron rings,
And voices fill the woodland When the battle's distant wail
Breaks the sabbath of our vale,
side.
When the clarion's music
Alas! how changed from the fair thrills
scene. To the hearts of these lone
When birds sang out their mel- hills.

low lay, When the spear in conflict

And winds were soft, and woods shakes.
were green. And the strong lance shivering
And the song ceased not with breaks.
the day.
" Take thy banner! and, be-
But wild music is abroad.
still neath
Pale, desert woods! within your The battle-cloud's encircling
crowd wreath.
And gathering winds, in hoarse Guard it! — our homes are
till
accord. free
Amid the vocal reeds pipe loud. Guard it! — God will prosper
thee!
Chill airs and wintry winds! my In the dark and trying hour.
ear In the breaking forth of power.
Has grown familiar with your In the rush of steeds and men.
song; His right hand will shield
I hear it in the opening year,— thee then.
I listen, and it cheers me long.
" Take thy banner! But, when
night
HYMN OF THE MORAVIAN Closes round the ghastly fight.
If the vanquished warrior bow,
NUNS OF BETHLEHEM, Spare him —
By our holy vow,
!

AT THE CONSECRATION OP PULASKl's By our pra^'ers and many tears,

BANNER. By the mercy that endears.
Spare him —
he our love hath
!

When the dying flame of day shared

Through the chancel shot its Spare him! as thou wouldst —
ray, be spared
 —

SUNRISE ON THE HILLS. 15

"Take thy banner! — and if e'er Martial cloak and shroud for
Thou sliuiildst press the sol- thee."
dier's bier,
And the muffled drum should The warrior took that banner
beat proud,
To the tread of mournful feet, And it was his martial cloak and
Then this crimson tlag shall be shroud!

SUNRISE ON THE HILLS.

ISTOOD upon the hills, wlien heaveu's wide arch
Was glorious with the sun's returning march,
And woods were brightened, and .soft gales
Went fortli to kiss the sun-elad vales.
The clouds were far beneath me; — l)athed in light.
The}' gathered midway round tlie woudetl height.
And, in their fading-glor}', shone
Like hosts in battle overthrown,
As many a pinnacle, witii shifting glance,
Through tlie gray mist thrust up its shattered lance,
And rocking on the cliff was left
The dark pine blasted, bare, and cleft.
The veil of cloud was lifted, and below
Glowed the rich valley, ami the rivers flow
Was darkened b}' the forest's shade,
Orglistened in the white cascade;
AVliere upward, in tiie mellow blusli of day.
Tile noisy bittern wheeled his spiral way.

I heard the dist^ant waters dasli,

saw the current wiiirl antl flash,
I
And richly, by tlie blue lake's silver beach.
The woods were bending witli a silent reach.
Then o'er tlie vale, witii gentle swell,
Tlie music of tiie village bell
Came sweetly to the echo-giving hills;
And the wild horn, whose voice the woodland fills,

Was ringing to the merry shout,

That faint and far the glen sent out,
Wiii'ri'. iinswcrinii' to the suddi'U shot, thin smoke.
Through llii(;k-leaved branches, from the dingle broke.

If thou art worn and hard beset

With sorrows, that tiiou wouldst forget.
If thou wouldst read a lesson, that will keep
Thy heart from faintinjr antl thy soul from sleep.
Go to the woods and hills! — No tears
Dim the sweet look that Nature wears.
 ; —— — —
.; — ; ; ; —

24 LONGFELLOW'S POEMS.
But, by fierce battle and blockade, 'Tis but a name
Soou his own banner was display e(l And yet its glory far exceeds
From every tower. That base and sensual life, which
leads
By the tried valor of his hand.
To want and shame.
His monarch and his native land
Were nobly served ;
" The etei-nal life, beyond the sky,
Let Portugal repeat the story,
Wealth cannot purchase, nor the
And proud Castile, who shared the Iiigh
glory
And proud estate
His arms deserved.
The soul in dalliance laid,— the
spirit
And when so oft, for weal or woe.
His life upon the fatal throw Corrupt with sin, —shall not in-
herit
Had been cast down;
When lie had served, with patriot A joy so great.
zeal.
Beneath the banner of Castile, "But the good monk, in cloistered
cell.
His sovereign's crown;
Shall gain it by his book and bell.
And done such deeds of valor His prayers and tears
strong. And the brave knight, whose arm
That neither history nor song endures
Can count them all Fierce battle, and against the Moors
Tlien. on Ocana's castled rock, His standard rears.
Death at his portal came to knock.
With sudden call, "And thou, brave knight, whose
hand has poured
Saying, "Good Cavalier, prepare The life-blood of the Pagan horde
To leave this world of toil and care O'er all the land,
With joyful mien; In heaven shalt thou receive, at
Let thy strong heart of steel this length.
day The guerdon of thine earthly
Put on its armor for the fray, strength
The closing scene. And dauntless hand.
" Since thou has been, in battle- " Cheered onward by this promise
strife sure.
So prodigal of health and life, Strong in the faith entire and
For earthly fame. pure
Let virtue nerve thy heart again; Thou dost profess,
Loud on the last stern battle-plain Depart,— thy hope is certainty,
They call thy nanu —
The third the better life on high
" Think not the struggle that draws Shalt thou possess."
near
Too terrible for man, —nor fear "O Death, no more, no more de-
lay
To meet the foe :

Nor let not thy noble spirit grieve.

My spiritlongs to flee away,
Its life of glorious fame to leave
And be at rest;
On earth below.
The will of Heaven my will shall
be,
" A life of honor and of worth Ibow to the divine decree,
Has no eternity on earth, To God's behest.
 ; ; ; ; ; !

COPLAS DE MANRIQUE. 25

"My soul is ready to depart, So patiently

Iso thought rebels, the obedient By thy redeeming grace alone.
heart And not for merits of my own,
"
Breathes forth no sigh; O, pardon me !

The wish on earth to linger still

Were vain, wlien 't is God's sove- As thus the d3'ing warrior prayed,
reign will Without one gathering mist or
That we shall die. shade
Upon his mind
" O thou, that for our sins didst Encircled by his family.
take Watched bj' afTect ion's gentle eye
A human ft)rm, and humbly make So soft and kind ;

Thy home on earth

Thou, tliatto thy divinity His soul to Ilim, who gave it, rose;
A human nature didst ally God lead it to its long repose.
Its glorious rest
By mortal birth,
And, tliough the warrior's sim has
"And in that form didst suffer set.
here Its light shall linger round us yet,
Torment, and agony, and fear, Bright, radiant, blest.*

* This poem of Manrique is a preat favorite in Spain. No less than four poetic Glosses
or running commentaries, upon it have been published, no one of which, however, possesses
great poetic merit. That of the Carthusian monk, KodriKo de Valdepenas, is the best. It is
known as tlie Glosa del Cartujo. Tlierc is also a prose Commentary by Luis de Aranda.

The following stanzas of tlie poem were found in the author's pocket, after his death on
the field of battle :—

" () World so few tiie years we live,

!

Would that the life which thou dost give

Were life indeed!
Alas I thy sorrows fall so fast,
f)ur hajipiest hour is when at last
The soul is freed.

"Our days are covered o'er with grief,

And sorrows neither few nor brief
Veil ail in gloom ;

Left desolate of real good.

Within this cheerless solitude
No pleasures bloom.
" Thy pilgrimage begins in tears.
And ends in bitter doubts and fears,
Or dark despair
Midway so many toils anpear.
That he who lingers longest here
Knows most of care.

" Thy goods are bought with many a groan,

Hy the hot sweat ol toil alone,
And weary hearts
Fleet-fooled is the approach of woe,
Hut with a lingering step and slow
Its form departs."
 — —

26 LONGFELLOW'S POEMS.

THE GOOD SHEPHERD.

FROM THE SPANISH OF LOPE DE VEGA.
Shepherd That with thine amorous, sylvan song
!

Hast broken the shimber wliich encompassed me,

That mad'st thy crook from the accursed tree,
On which thy powerful arms were stretched so long!
Lead me to mercy's ever-flowing fountains ;

For tliou my shepherd, guard, and guide shalt be ;

I will obey thy voice, and wait to see

Th}' feet all beautiful upon the mountains.
Hear, Sliepherd ! —
thou who for thy flock art dying,
O, wash away these scarlet sins, for thou
Rejoicest at the contrite sinner's vow.
O, wait !
—
to thee my weary soul is crying,
Wait for me —
Yet why ask it, when I see,
!

With feet nailed to the cross, thou 'rt waiting, still for me t

TO-MORROW.
FROM the SPANISH OF LOPE DE VEGA.
Lord, what am with unceasing care.
I, that,
Thou didst seek after me, —
that thou didst wait.
Wet with unliealtliy dews, before my gate, ,'

And p;iss tlie gloomy nights of winter there ?

O strange delusion —
tliat I did not greet
!

Tliy blest ai)proach, and O, to Heaven how lost,

If my ingratitude's unkindly frost
Has chilled the bleeding wounds upon thy feet.
How oft my guardian angel gently cried,
" Soul, from thy casement look, and thou shalt see
How lie persists to knock and wait for thee
"
!

And, O how often to that voice of sorrow,

!

"To-morrow we will open," I replied,

And when the morrow came I answered still, " To-morrow."

THE NATIVE LAND.

FROM THE SPANISH OF FRANCISCO DE ALDANA.
Clear fount of light my native land on high. !

Bright witli a glory that slmll never fade !

Mansion of truth without a veil or siiade, !

Thy holy quiet meets the spirit s eye.

 — ; ! ;

18 LONGFELLOW'S POEMS.

TRANSLATIONS.
[Don Jorge ManriqHe, the author of the following poem, flourished in the bst half of
the fifteenth century. He followed the profession of arms, and died on the field of battle.
Mariana, in his History of Spain, makes honorable mention (if him, as being present at the
siege of Uck-s ; and speaks of him as "a youth of estimable qualities, wlio in this war gave
brilliant proofs of his valor, lie died young; and was thus cut off from long exercising his
great virtues, and e.vliibiting to the world the light of his genius, Miich was already know-n
to fame." He wa? mortally wounded in a skirmish- near Canavette, in the year 1479.
The name of Kodrigo IManriquc, the fatlier of the poet, Conde de Paredes and Maestrfe de
Santiago, is well known in Spanish history and song. He died in 1476 according to ;

Mariana, in the town of ITcles; but, according to the poem of his son, in Ocnua. It was his
death that called forth the poem ui>nn which rests the literary reputation of the younger
Manrique. In the language of his historian, "Don Jorge Manrique, in an elegant Ode, full
of poetic beauties, rich embellishments of genius, and high moral reflections, mourned the
death of his father as with a funeral hymn." This praise is not exaggerated. Tiie poem is a
model m its kind. Its conception is solemn and beautiful ; and, in accordance with it, the
style moves on — calm, dignified and majestic]

COPLAS DE MANRIQUE. Let no one fondly dream again,

That Hope aud all lier shadowy
FROM THE SPANISH. train
Will not decay
O LET the soul her sUimbers break, Fleeting as were the dreams of old,
Let thought be quickeoed, aud Remembered like a tale that's told,
awake ;
Tliey pass away.
Awake to see
How soon this life is past and Our lives are rivers, gliding free
gone, To that unfathomed, boundless
And deatli comes softly stealing sea.
on, The silent grave
How silently! Thither earthly pomp and
all
boast
Swiftly our pleasures glide awa}^ Roll, to be swallowed up ami lost
Our hearts recall the distant day In one dark wave.
With many sighs;
The moments tliat are speeding Thither the mighty torrents stray.
fast Thither the brook pursues its way.
We heed not, but the past, — the And tinkling rill.

past, There all are equal. Side by si(h'

More highly prize. The poor man and the son of pride
Lie calm and still.
Onward its course the present
keeps, I will not here invoke the throng
Onward the constant current Of orators and sons of song,
sweeps. The deathless few
Till life isdone; Fiction entices and deceives,
And, did we judge of time aright, Anil, sprinkled o'er her fragrant
The past and future in their flight Itjaves
Would be as one. Lies poisonous dew.
 — ; — ; ;!

COPLAS DE MANRIQUE. 19

To Oue alone my thoughts arise, That come to all;

The Eternal Truth,— the Good and Even in the most exalted state.
Wise, Relentless sweeps the stroke of
To Him 1 cry, fate
Who shared on earth our common The strongest fall.

lot,
But the world comprehended not Tell me,— the charms that lovers
llis deity. seek
In the clear eye and blushing
This world but the rugged road
is clieck.
Which lends us to tlie bright abode The hues that play
Of peace above; O'er rosy lip and brow of snow,
So let us choose that narrow way, AVhen hoary age approaches slow,
Which leads no traveller's foot Ah, where are they?
astray
From realms of love. The cunning skill, the curious arts,
The glorious strength that youth
Our cradle the starting-place.
is imparts
In life we run the (jnward race, In life's first stage
And reach tiie goal These become a heavy weight.
shall
When, in the mansions of the blest, When Time swings wide his out-
Deatii leaves to its eternal rest ward gate
The weary soul.
To weary age.
Did we but use it as we ought. of Gothic name,
The noble blood
This world would sciiool each wan-
Heroes emblazoned high to fame.
dering thought
In long array;
To its high state. How, in the onward course of
Faitli wings tlie soul beyond the
time,
sky.
Tlic lanilmarks of that race sublime
Up to that better world on high,
Were swept away
For which we wait.
Some, the degraded slaves of lust,
Yes, —the glad messenger of love.
Prostrat(! and trampled in the dust,
To guide us to our home above, Siiall ris(; no more
The Saviour came;
;

Others, by guilt and crime, main-

I5orn amid mortal cares and fears
tain
Hi- sulTcnd in tliis vale of tears
The scutcheon, that, without a
A dcatli el' sliamt.'.
stain,

worth Their fathers bore.

liehold of wiiat delusive
The bubbles we pursue ou earth,
TIk; sliajMS we ciiase. Wealth and the high estate of
Amid a world of treachery! pride,
They vanish ere death sliuts the Willi what untimely speed they
eye glide.
And leave nn trace. How soon depart!
Hid not tile shadowy phantoms
Time steals IIkiii from us, stay,
cliances strange, Tlie vassals of a mistress tljcy.
Disastrous accidents, and chuuge. Of tickle heart.