FRIEDERICH RÜCKERT [1789-1866.] BARBAROSSA. THE mighty Barbarossa, The Emp'ror Frederick old, In subterranean chambers Enchantments closely hold. He never yet did perish, He liveth there to-day, And hidden in the castle, He sits and sleeps away. And he has taken with him The splendour of his reign, And at the time appointed He will return again. The Emperor is sitting Upon an ivory chair; His head upon a table He leans, of marble rare. His beard it is not flaxen, It is of fiery glow, And groweth through the table On which his head lies low. As though in dreams, he noddeth, With scarce half-opened eyes, K And after long, long silence, Unto a boy he cries. In sleep to him he calleth, 'Look, dwarf, without the door, If round the tower the ravens Are flying as before. 'And if the ancient ravens Around the tower still fly, Yet hundred years, enchanted, I here must sleeping lie.' JUSTINUS KERNER. [1786-1862.] THE DYING MILLER. THE stars shine o'er the vale below, The mill-wheel turneth free; I to the dying miller go, He longs his friend to see. I heard, as down the steps I went, The mill-wheel's muffled roar, In which a bell's soft chime was blent; The daily task is o'er. I stood beside the miller's bed, He lay without a sound; His heart was still, his spirit fled, And silence reigned around. His loved ones wept, lamenting sore, Cold was his heart, and still; Fast flow the waters as before, But silent stands the mill. TO THE DRINKING-GLASS OF A DEPARTED FRIEND. FAIR glass, now empty dost thou stand, Glass which so oft he raised with glee; The spider now on either hand Has spun her dismal web round thee. |