human
Can you write me a poem about hermann, goethe and evangeline?
assistant
Sure, here's a poem about hermann, goethe and evangeline:
  There are few modern poems of any country so perfect in their
kind as the "Hermann and Dorothea" of Goethe. In clearness
of characterization, in unity of tone, in the adjustment of
background and foreground, in the conduct of the narrative,
it conforms admirably to the strict canons of art; yet it
preserves a freshness and spontaneity in its emotional appeal
that are rare in works of so classical a perfection in form.
the Archbishop of Salzburg drove out of his diocese a thousand
Protestants, who took refuge in South Germany, and among whom
was a girl who became the bride of the son of a rich burgher.
The occasion of the girl's exile was changed by Goethe to more
recent times, and in the poem she is represented as a German from
at one point, for example, in the characterization of Dorothea,
who before the time of her appearance in the poem has been
The characters of the father and the minister Goethe took over
from the original incident, the mother he invented, and the
apothecary he made to stand for a group of friends. But all of
these persons, as well as the two lovers, are recreated, and this
individuals, they are no less significant as permanent types of
human nature. The hexameter measure which he employed, and which
is retained in the present translation, he handled with such
charm that it has since seemed the natural verse for the domestic
features of the poem, in Longfellow's "Evangeline."
Taken as a whole, with its beauty of form, its sentiment, tender
yet restrained, and the compelling pathos of its story, "Hermann
and Dorothea" appeals to a wider public than perhaps any other
product of its author.
"Truly, I never have seen the market and street so deserted!
What will not curiosity do! here is every one running,
Hurrying to gaze on the sad procession of pitiful exiles.
Fully a league it must be to the causeway they have to pass over,
Over to us are coming, and through the prosperous corner
Roam of this our luxuriant valley, and traverse its windings.
Thereupon answered and said the prudent, intelligent housewife:
"Father, I am not inclined to be giving away my old linen:
Made of the finest of chintz, and lined with delicate flannel,
Gave I away: it was thin and old, and quite out of the fashion."
Real East-Indian stuff: I never shall get such another.
Well, I had given up wearing it: nowadays, custom compels us
Always to go in surtout, and never appear but in jacket;
"See!" interrupted the wife; "even now some are yonder returning,
We shall be bringing our grain in dry, as the hay was before it.
Not the least cloud to be seen, so perfectly clear is the heaven;
Constantly, while he thus spoke, the crowds of men and of women
Grew, who their homeward way were over the market-place wending;
Foremost merchant of all the town, their opulent neighbor,
Rapidly driving his open barouche,--it was builded in Landau.
Lively now grew the streets, for the city was handsomely peopled.
Under their doorway thus the affectionate couple were sitting,
Pleasing themselves with many remarks on the wandering people.
Finally broke in, however, the worthy housewife, exclaiming:
"Yonder our pastor, see! is hitherward coming, and with him
Comes our neighbor the doctor, so they shall every thing tell us;
Cordially then the two men drew nigh, and saluted the couple;
"Such is mankind, forsooth! and one man is just like another,
Now all are sallying forth to gaze on the need of these exiles,
Nor is there one who considers that he, by a similar fortune,
May, in the future, if not indeed next, be likewise o'ertaken.
Levity not to be pardoned, I deem; yet it lies in man's nature."
Thereupon answered and said the noble, intelligent pastor;
As they reveal man's destiny to us, and man's disposition;
Thoroughly versed, besides, in best of secular writings.
What understanding and reason may sometimes fail to accomplish,
Say, would he ever have learned how harmoniously fitted together
Worldly experiences are? For first what is novel he covets;
Then with unwearying industry follows he after the useful;
Finally longs for the good by which he is raised and ennobled.
While he is young, such lightness of mind is a joyous companion,
Traces of pain-giving evil effacing as soon as 'tis over.
He is indeed to be praised, who, out of this gladness of temper,
Has in his ripening years a sound understanding developed;
Who, in good fortune or ill, with zeal and activity labors:
Then broke familiarly in the housewife impatient, exclaiming:
"Tell us of what ye have seen; for that I am longing to hear of!"
"Hardly," with emphasis then the village doctor made answer,
Mournful it was to behold the most miscellaneous chattels,--
Always ready for use; for useful is each and important.--
Now these things to behold, piled up on all manner of wagons,
One on the top of another, as hurriedly they had been rescued.
Over the chest of drawers were the sieve and wool coverlet lying;
Twenty years since, will take from a man all power of reflection,
Pitiful trash, that only encumbered the horses and oxen;
Thus on the dusty road the crowded procession moved forward,
Cries of distress from the aged and sick, who aloft on the wagon,
Pressed at last from the rut and out to the edge of the highway,
Slipped the creaking wheel; the cart lost its balance, and over
Later the boxes were thrown and fell more near to the wagon.
Verily all who had witnessed the fall, expected to see them
Crushed into pieces beneath the weight of trunks and of presses.
So lay the cart all broken to fragments, and helpless the people.
Each thinking only of self, and carried away by the current.
Then we ran to the spot, and found the sick and the aged,--
Hastily sent we a mite from out of our super-abundance,
Knowing how readily fear steals into the heart of us mortals,
And anxiety, worse to me than the actual evil.
Come with me into the room behind, our cool little parlor,
Where no sunbeam e'er shines, and no sultry breath ever enters
Gleaming and round and brown, that on mighty feet was supported,
Joyously rang at once the glasses of landlord and pastor,
But his motionless held the third, and sat lost in reflection,
When he so hardly chastised us, he now is continually blessing,
Constantly shielding, as man the apple of his eye watches over,
Holding it precious and dear above all the rest of his members?
Shall he in time to come not defend us and furnish us succor?
Only when danger is nigh do we see how great is his power.
Shall he this blooming town which he once by industrious burghers
Cheerfully said in reply the excellent pastor, and kindly:
"Keep thyself firm in the faith, and firm abide in this temper;
Then made answer the landlord, with thoughts judicious and manly:
But I could never imagine its beautiful banks would so shortly
See! thus nature protects, the stout-hearted Germans protect us,
Would it might be that when that festival, ardently longed for,
But I observe with regret, that the youth so efficient and active
Little enjoyment he finds in going about among others;
Nay, he will even avoid young ladies' society wholly;
Shuns the enlivening dance which all young persons delight in."
Thus he spoke and listened; for now was heard in the distance
Now when of comely mien the son came into the chamber,
Turned with a searching look the eyes of the preacher upon him,
And, with the gaze of the student, who easily fathoms expression,
Then with a smile he spoke, and said in words of affection:
"Truly a different being thou comest! I never have seen thee
Cheerful as now, nor ever beheld I thy glances so beaming.
Quietly then, and with serious words, the son made him answer:
"If I have acted as ye will commend, I know not; but I followed
That which my heart bade me do, as I shall exactly relate you.
Thou wert, mother, so long in rummaging 'mong thy old pieces,
Coming to meet me; for far was already the band of the exiles.
Quicker I kept on my way, and drove with speed to the village,
Has our condition been, as to-day on this journey thou seest.
I am not yet grown used to asking gifts of a stranger,
Which he will often unwillingly give, to be rid of the beggar.
But necessity drives me to speak; for here, on the straw, lies
Naked, now in her arms the new-born infant is lying,
And but little the help our friends will be able to furnish,
Thou of this neighborhood art, to the poor in charity give it.'
"Thus she spoke, and the pale-faced mother raised herself feebly
Up from the straw, and towards me looked. Then said I in answer:
'Surely unto the good, a spirit from heaven oft speaketh,
Making them feel the distress that threatens a suffering brother.
And she thanked me with joy, and cried: 'The happy believe not
Miracles yet can be wrought: for only in need we acknowledge
God's own hand and finger, that leads the good to show goodness,
What unto us he has done through thee, may he do to thee also!
Started the oxen; the wagon went on; but there I still lingered,
Still held the horses in check; for now my heart was divided
And in an instant my heart had decided, and quietly driving
After the maiden, I soon overtook her, and said to her quickly:
'Hearken, good maiden;--my mother packed up not linen-stuffs only
Plenty of all these things I have in the box of the carriage.
But now I feel myself moved to deliver these offerings also
Into thy hand; for so shall I best fulfil my commission.
Instantly now, when Hermann had ceased, the talkative neighbor
Took up the word, and cried: "Oh happy, in days like the present,
Happy I feel myself now, and would not for much be called father;
"Neighbor," unto his words young Hermann with emphasis answered:
"I can in no wise agree with thee here, and censure thy language.
Rather than ever to-day would I make up my mind to be married:
Many a worthy maiden is needing a husband's protection,
And the man needs an inspiriting wife when ill is impending."
Thereupon smiling the father replied: "Thus love I to hear thee!
That is a sensible word such as rarely I've known thee to utter."
Rather the saddest of hours it was that bound us together.
Monday morning--I mind it well; for the day that preceded
Came that terrible fire by which our city was ravaged--
Twenty years will have gone. The day was a Sunday as this is;
Hot and dry was the season; the water was almost exhausted.
All the people were strolling abroad in their holiday dresses,
'Mong the villages partly, and part in the mills and the taverns.
Quickly along the streets, creating a draught in their passage.
Little we managed to save. I sat, that sorrowful night through,
Outside the town on the common, to guard the beds and the boxes.
Sleep overtook me at last, and when I again was awakened,
Came up the sun again, inspiring my bosom with courage.
Then I rose hastily up, with a yearning the place to revisit
Thou camest up to examine the place, from the other direction.
Then thou didst set me down and kiss me; to that I objected;
But thou didst answer and say with kindly significant language:
'See! my house lies in ruins: remain here and help me rebuild it;
Yet did I not comprehend thee until thou sentest thy mother
Unto my father, and quick were the happy espousals accomplished.
E'en to this day I remember with joy those half-consumed timbers,
Thus their life and estate to begin from the very foundation:
Every one needs not to worry himself as we and the rest did.
Oh, how happy is he whose father and mother shall give him,
Many are human wants, and every thing daily grows dearer,
So that a man must consider the means of increasing his earnings.
Great is the comfort of home whene'er, with the woman elected,
Enter the useful presents, besides, in box and in basket.
Not for this many a year in vain has the mother been busy
Making her daughter's linens of strong and delicate texture;
God-parents have not in vain been giving their vessels of silver,
Well do I know how good in a house is a woman's position,
Who her own furniture round her knows, in kitchen and chamber;
Who herself the bed and herself the table has covered.
Yes, my Hermann, thy father's old age thou greatly canst gladden,
True that the eldest already is taken; but there is the second
"Truly 'twas my wish too, as well as thine own, to have chosen
Partly to gratify thee, and because of our former acquaintance:
But no pleasure I ever could take in being among them;
For I was always obliged to endure their censures upon me.
Quite too long was my coat, the cloth too coarse, and the color
It was on Easter-day that last I went over to see them;
Wearing my best new coat, that is now hanging up in the closet,
Hearing his daughters sing, and full of delight and good-humor.
Much I could not understand of all that was said in the singing;
But of Pamina I often heard, and oft of Tamino:
Thereupon all were silent and smiled; but the father made answer:
On and on and on, for all they kept playing and singing.
Thoughtfully answered the son: "I know not. That mortification
Stamped itself in me so deeply, I never could bear to behold her
Seated before the piano or listen again to her singing."
Forth broke the father then, and in words of anger made answer:
"Little of joy will my life have in thee! I said it would be so
Dwelling within his breast, nor the wish to raise himself higher.
After him called, "Yes, go, thou obstinate fellow! I know thee!
Who shall requite me in kind and sweeten my manifold labors;
Thus did the modest son slip away from the angry upbraiding;
But in the tone he had taken at first, the father continued:
"That comes not out of a man which he has not in him; and hardly
Shall the joy ever be mine of seeing my dearest wish granted:
That my son may not as his father be, but a better.
What would become of the house, and what of the city if each one
Leaving no trace behind of himself and his animate action!
As by the house we straightway can tell the mind of the master,
Lies in heaps in the gutters, and alleys with offal are littered;
Vainly its new supports,--that place we may know is ill governed.
Easily grows the citizen used to untidy postponement;
Just as the beggar grows likewise used to his ragged apparel.
He that has once beheld cities so cleanly and large, never after
Ceases his own native city, though small it may be, to embellish.
Actively carrying out what I planned, and also fulfilling
What had by upright men been designed, and left uncompleted.
Finally grew the same zeal in every one of the council;
All now labor together, and firmly decided already
Straightway answered and said the good and intelligent mother:
"Why wilt thou always, father, be doing our son such injustice?
That least of all is the way to bring thy wish to fulfilment.
We have no power to fashion our children as suiteth our fancy;
As they are given by God, we so must have them and love them;
Thereupon when she was gone, the father thus smiling continued:
Once for all time holds good the ancients' trustworthy proverb:
'Whoever goes not forward comes backward.' So must it be always."
Thereupon answered and said, in a tone of reflection, the doctor:
Being thus active and stirring, and bettering inside and outside?
Who does not fear, especially now in this season of danger?
Long since my house was smiling upon me in modish apparel!
Knows the methods as well by which the best is arrived at?
This of the Golden Lion, and mine of the sign of the Angel.
So was my garden, too, throughout the whole neighborhood famous:
Every traveller stopped and gazed through the red palisadoes,
Standing there now all covered with dust and Partly in ruins,--
Used by the sight of my corals and potter's ore to be dazzled.
So in my parlor, too, they would always admire the painting,
Where in a garden are gaily dressed ladies and gentlemen walking,
Scarcely I venture abroad. All now must be other and tasteful,
For who among us has means for paying the work-people's wages
Lately I had an idea of giving the Archangel Michael,
Making the sign of my shop, another fresh coating of gilding,
And to the terrible dragon about his feet that is winding;
But I e'en let him stay browned as he is: I dreaded the charges."
Thus entertaining themselves, the men sat talking. The mother
Went meanwhile to look for her son in front of the dwelling,
Heavily laden with apples, and burdening boughs of the pear-tree.
For an industrious woman allows no step to be wasted.
Thus was she come at last to the end of the far-reaching garden,
But the wicket was standing ajar, which out of the arbor,
Once by particular favor, had been through the walls of the city
Cut by a grandsire of hers, the worshipful burgomaster.
So the now dried-up moat she next crossed over with comfort,
Where, by the side of the road, direct the well-fenced vineyard,
Rose with a steep ascent, its slope exposed to the sunshine.
Up this also she went, and with pleasure as she was ascending
Which upon steps that were made of unhewn blocks you ascended.
There were the Muscatel, and there were the Chasselas hanging
Side by side, of unusual size and colored with purple,
All set out with the purpose of decking the visitor's table;
Thus up the slope she went, enjoying already the vintage,
And that festive day on which the whole country, rejoicing,
Picks and tramples the grapes, and gathers the must into vessels:
Crackle and blaze, and so the fairest of harvests is honored.
But more uneasy she went, her son after twice or thrice calling,
And no answer receiving, except from the talkative echo,
That with many repeats rang back from the towers of the city.
Every anxious thought, and fear that aught ill had befallen.
That with its broad expanse the ridge of the hill covered over.
Benches of unhewn stones and of turf they found set about it.
"What! do I find thee weeping, my son?" exclaimed in amazement.
"Nay, that is not like thyself: I never before have so seen thee!
Then, collecting himself, the excellent youth made her answer:
"Truly no heart can that man have in his bosom of iron,
Who is insensible now to the needs of this emigrant people;
He has no brains in his head, who not for his personal safety,
Spreading its fertile slopes in every direction about us,
Saw the golden grain inclining itself to the reapers,
And the promise of well-filled barns from the plentiful harvest.
But, alas, how near is the foe! The Rhine with its waters
Guards us, indeed; but, ah, what now are rivers and mountains
'Gainst that terrible people that onward bears like a tempest!
For they summon their youths from every quarter together,
Call up their old men too, and press with violence forward.
Death cannot frighten the crowd: one multitude follows another.
And shall a German dare to linger behind in his homestead?
Hopes he perhaps to escape the everywhere threatening evil?
Nay, dear mother, I tell thee, to-day has made me regretful
That I was lately exempt, when out of our townsmen were chosen
Those who should serve in the army. An only son I am truly,
There on the border, than here to await disaster and bondage.
So has my spirit declared, and deep in my innermost bosom
Courage and longing have now been aroused to live for my country,
If but the strength of Germany's youth were banded together
Hearken, I shall not again return to the house; but directly
Go from this spot to the city, and there present to the soldiers
Dwelling within my breast, nor a wish to raise myself higher."
Yet have I nothing but censure to speak; for better I know thee.
Since, for all thou art honest and brave, it is thy vocation
Here in quiet to care for the farm and provide for the household.
Earnestly answered the son: "Nay, thou art mistaken, dear mother:
Better in stillness oft ripening to deeds than when in the tumult
Has such a heart been shaped as abhors all wrong and injustice;
And I have learned aright between worldly things to distinguish.
Arm and foot, besides, have been mightily strengthened by labor.
All this, I feel, is true: I dare with boldness maintain it.
Helpful to be to my country, and terrible unto the foeman.
And so leave me, O mother! for, since the wishes are fruitless
Which in my bosom I cherish, my life must go fruitlessly over.
For, as I know, he injures himself who is singly devoted,
When for the common cause the whole are not working together."
"Hesitate not," replied thereupon the intelligent mother,
"Every thing to relate me, the smallest as well as the greatest.
Whereas a woman is clever in thinking of means, and will venture
E'en on a roundabout way, adroitly to compass her object.
Let me know every thing, then; say wherefore so greatly excited
'As I ne'er saw thee before, why thy blood is coursing so hotly,
"Truly my father's words to-day have wounded me sorely,--
Violent words he oft vented on me, instead of on others,
Ever remembering with cordial respect the kindness of parents,
Solely intent on increasing for us their goods and possessions,
Much denying themselves in order to save for their children.
That is not happiness: pile upon pile, and acre on acre,
Make us not happy, no matter how fair our estates may be rounded.
Look thou below, and see how before us in glory are lying,
But when I look at the dwelling behind, where up in the gable
We can distinguish the window that marks my room in the attic;
When I look back, and remember how many a night from that window
I for the moon have watched; for the sun, how many a morning!
When the healthful sleep of a few short hours sufficed me,--
Ah, so lonely they seem to me then, the chamber and courtyard,
Garden and glorious field, away o'er the hill that is stretching;
That thou mayst find thy nights a beautiful part of existence,
And that the work of the day may gain independence and freedom,
That till the hour appointed is come, and the maiden appointed
That same maiden it is, the exile, whom thou hast elected."
Mother, for ever in vain would then our abundant possessions
Prosper before me, and seasons to come be in vain to me fruitful.
Even my mother's love, alas! would not comfort my sorrow.
Every tie, so I feel in my heart, by love is unloosened
Soon as she fastens her own; and not the maid is it only
When he the maiden, his only beloved, sees vanishing from him.
Suffer me, then, to go hence wherever despair shall impel me:
Since by my father himself the decisive words have been spoken;
Since his house can no longer be mine if he shut out the maiden,
Her whom alone as my bride I desire to bring to our dwelling."
Thereupon quickly made answer the good and intelligent mother:
Neither will stir his tongue to utter the first word of kindness.
So she be honest and good, thy father will let thee espouse her,
Then by the wine, which lets him not heed the language of others;
And he can feel how unjust his passion has made him to others.
Come, let us venture at once: success is alone to the valiant!
Thus she hastily spoke, and up from the stone then arising,
Drew from his seat her son, who willingly followed. In silence
Both descended the hill, their important purpose revolving.
HERE the three men, however, still sat conversing together,
With mine host of the Lion, the village doctor, and pastor;
And their talk was still on the same unvarying subject,
Turning it this way and that, and viewing from every direction.
But with his sober judgment the excellent pastor made answer:
"Here will I not contradict you. I know that man should be always
But be careful ye go not too far, for with this disposition
Nature has given us pleasure in holding to what is familiar;
Many are man's desires, yet little it is that he needeth;
Seeing the days are short and mortal destiny bounded.
Ne'er would I censure the man whom a restless activity urges,
Bold and industrious, over all pathways of land and of ocean,
Ever untiring to roam; who takes delight in the riches,
Heaping in generous abundance about himself and his children.
Yet not unprized by me is the quiet citizen also,
Making the noiseless round of his own inherited acres,
Tilling the ground as the ever-returning seasons command him.
Not with every year is the soil transfigured about him;
Happy to whom by nature a mind of such temper is given,
For he supports us all! And hail, to the man whose abode is
Where in a town the country pursuits with the city are blended.
On him lies not the pressure that painfully hampers the farmer,
Nor is he carried away by the greedy ambition of cities;
Where they of scanty possessions too often are given to aping,
Wives and daughters especially, those who are higher and richer.
Blessed be therefore thy son in his life of quiet employment;
Thus he spoke; and scarce had he ended when entered the mother,
Holding her son by the hand, and so led him up to her husband.
When he should bring his bride to be the light of our dwelling!
Over and over again the matter we pondered: this maiden
That same maiden it is that met him this morning, the stranger:
"Give her me, father," so added the son: "my heart has elected
But the father was silent. Then hastily rose the good pastor,
Took up the word and said: "The moment alone is decisive;
Fixes the life of man, and his future destiny settles.
After long taking of counsel, yet only the work of a moment
Every decision must be; and the wise alone seizes the right one.
Dangerous always it is comparing the one with the other
When we are making our choice, and so confusing our feelings.
Hermann is pure. From childhood up I have known him, and never
E'en as a boy was he wont to be reaching for this and the other:
What he desired was best for him too, and he held to it firmly.
Be not surprised and alarmed that now has appeared of a sudden,
Gifts come down from above in the shapes appointed by Heaven.
Therefore misjudge not the maiden who now of thy dearly beloved,
Good and intelligent son has been first to touch the affections:
Happy to whom at once his first love's hand shall be given,
And in whose heart no tenderest wish must secretly languish.
Yes: his whole bearing assures me that now his fate is decided.
Genuine love matures in a moment the youth into manhood;
He is not easily moved; and I fear that if this be refused him,
Straightway then in a thoughtful tone the doctor made answer,
Make haste slowly: that was Augustus the emperor's motto.
Willingly I myself place at my well-beloved neighbor's disposal,
Ready to do him what service I can with my poor understanding.
Youth most especially stands in need of some one to guide it.
Let me therefore go forth that I may examine the maiden,
I should be glad if our minister here were joined in the errand:
Two such excellent men would be irreproachable judges.
O my father! believe me, she's none of those wandering maidens,
No: the hard fortunes of war, that universal destroyer,
Are not now men of high birth, the most noble, in misery roaming?
So alas! also is she, the best among all of her sisters,
Driven an exile from home; yet, her personal sorrows forgetting,
She is devoted to others; herself without help, she is helpful.
Outspoke the father then in a tone of decision, and answered:
Showing too easy indulgence; and every neighbor sides with them
When there is aught to be carried against the father and husband.
For I already perceive here tears and defiance beforehand.
Go ye therefore, inquire, in God's name, bring me the daughter.
But if not so, then the boy is to think no more of the maiden."
Thus the father. The son cried out with joyful demeanor,
Yes; she will ever be grateful for having had father and mother
Given once more in you, and such as a child most delights in.
Now I will tarry no longer, but straightway harness the horses,
Drive forth our friends at once on the footsteps of my beloved,
Thus he went forth: the others meanwhile remained in discussion,
Rapid and earnest, considering deeply their great undertaking.
Hermann hasted straightway to the stable, where quietly standing
On them without delay the shining bits he adjusted,
Hastily drew the straps through the buckles of beautiful plating,
Led without to the court-yard, whither the willing assistant
Had with ease, by the pole, already drawn forward the carriage.
Next to the whipple-tree they with care by the neatly kept traces
Whip in hand took Hermann his seat and drove under the doorway.
Rapidly, loitering nowhere, but hastening up hill and down hill.
But as he now before him perceived the spire of the village,
And no longer remote the garden-girt houses were lying,
Then in himself he thought that here he would rein up the horses.
Under the solemn shade of lofty linden-trees lying,
Which for centuries past upon this spot had been rooted,
Spread in front of the village a broad and grass-covered common,
"Here alight, my friends, and go your ways to discover
Whether the maiden in truth be worthy the hand that I offer.
Which with a simple grace her chin's rounded outline encircles;
Freely and lightly rises above it the head's dainty oval;
And her luxuriant hair over silver bodkins is braided;
Down from under her bodice, the full, blue petticoat falling,
When ye have tidings enough to satisfy father and mother,
Then return to me here, and we will consider what further.
So did I plan it all out in my mind while driving you hither."
Men for the harnessed horses and lowing cattle were caring,
While the women were busy in drying their clothes on the hedges,
And in the running brook the children were merrily splashing.
Denser soon grew the press. A contest arose round the wagons
"Has, then, misfortune," he cried, "not yet so bound us together,
Thus spoke the man and all became silent: restored to good humor,
He to the man drew near and with words of meaning addressed him:
"True it is, father, that when in prosperity people are living,
All goes on of itself, and each himself deems the wisest,
Deems the best, and so they continue abiding together,
He of greatest intelligence ranking no higher than others;
All that occurs, as if of itself, going quietly forward.
But let disaster unsettle the usual course of existence,
And no longer in vain his glorious words will be spoken.
Tell me, art thou not judge among this fugitive people,
Father, who thus in an instant canst bid their passions be quiet?
Who through deserts and wanderings guided the emigrant nations.
Yea, I could even believe I were speaking with Joshua or Moses."
Then with serious look the magistrate answered him, saying:
For who has yesterday lived and to-day in times like the present,
If I look back but a little, it seems that my head must be hoary
Under the burden of years, and yet my strength is still active.
Well may we of this day compare ourselves unto that people
Who, from the burning bush, beheld in the hour of their danger
God the Lord: we also in cloud and in fire have beheld him."
Privately into his ear his companion hastily whispered:
Come and report to thee here." The minister nodded, assenting;
Now when the foreign judge had been by the minister questioned
As to his people's distress, and how long their exile had lasted,
Since of the gathering bitter of years our people have drunken,--
When we beheld the new sun arise in his earliest splendor,
Fetters that had in the hand of sloth been held and self-seeking.
"Were not the names of those men who first delivered the message,
And, as neighbors, we, first of all, were zealously kindled.
Thereupon followed the war, and armed bodies of Frenchmen
They with rejoicing the festive trees of liberty planted,
Promising every man what was his own, and to each his own ruling.
Thus had they speedily won, these overmastering Frenchmen,
First the spirits of men by the fire and dash of their bearing,
Then the hearts of the women with irresistible graces.
Even the pressure of hungry war seemed to weigh on us lightly,
So before our vision did hope hang over the future,
Luring our eyes abroad into newly opening pathways.
Oh, how joyful the time when with her belov'ed the maiden
Whirls in the dance, the longed-for day of their union awaiting!
But more glorious that day on which to our vision the highest
Heart of man can conceive seemed near and attainable to us.
Loosened was every tongue, and men--the aged, the stripling--
Spoke aloud in words that were full of high feeling and wisdom.
Soon, however, the sky was o'ercast. A corrupt generation
Fought for the right of dominion, unworthy the good to establish;
While those lower plundered and rioted down to the lowest:
Presently Fortune turned and declared on the side of the German,
And with hurried marches the French retreated before us.
Ah! then as never before did we feel the sad fortunes of warfare:
Him whose service he daily needs, and whose property uses.
But no law the fugitive knows, save of self-preservation,
"Taking delight in blood, in the shrieking of anguish exulting.
Thereupon fiercely arose in our men the stern resolution
What had been lost to avenge, and defend whate'er was remaining,
Ceaselessly now rang out the clanging peal of the tocsin.
Thought of no danger to come restrained their furious anger.
Quick into weapons of war the husbandman's peaceful utensils
Fury everywhere raged and the cowardly cunning of weakness.
Ne'er may I men so carried away by injurious passion
See again! the sight of the raging wild beast would be better.
Let not man prattle of freedom, as if himself he could govern!
Soon as the barriers are torn away, then all of the evil
"Excellent man!" thereupon with emphasis answered the pastor:
Had not danger aroused them, and did not necessity's pressure
Bring forth the angel in man, and make him a god of deliv'rance."
Thereupon answered and said the reverend magistrate, smiling:
"There thou remindest me aptly of how we console the poor fellow,
Then will the poor wretch after it dig and rejoice if he find it.
Seen how the stripling at once matured into man; how the aged
Grew again young; and even the child into youth was developed,
Yea, and the weaker sex too, as we are accustomed to call it,
Showed itself brave and strong and ready for every emergence.
Foremost among them all, one beautiful deed let me mention,
Bravely performed by the hand of a girl, an excellent maiden;
Suddenly fell on the house a fugitive band of marauders,
"There they beheld the beautiful form of the fully grown maiden,
They that trembling band assailed and the high-hearted maiden.
Now when this praise the minister heard bestowed on the maiden,
Rose straightway for his friend a feeling of hope in his bosom,
And he had opened his lips to inquire what further befell her,
If on this mournful flight she now with her people were present;
When with a hasty step the village doctor approached them,
Twitched the clergyman's coat, and said in his ear in a whisper:
"I have discovered the maiden at last among several hundreds;
Prettily laced, and the bodice of black fits close to her figure;
Which, with a simple grace, her chin's rounded outline encircles;
And her luxuriant hair over silver bodkins is braided.
Now she is sitting, yet still we behold her majestical stature,
And the blue petticoat's ample plaits, that down from her bosom
Hangs in abundant folds about her neatly shaped ankles,
She without question it is; come, therefore, and let us discover
Whether she honest and virtuous be, a housewifely maiden."
Then, as the seated figure he studied, the pastor made answer:
"Truly, I find it no wonder that she so enchanted the stripling,
Since, to a man's experienced eye, she seems lacking in nothing.
Happy to whom mother Nature a shape harmonious has given!
"Such will always commend him, and he can be nowhere a stranger.
All approach with delight, and all are delighted to linger,
If to the outward shape correspond but a courteous spirit.
I can assure thee, in her the youth has found him a maiden,
Who, in the days to come, his life shall gloriously brighten,
Standing with womanly strength in every necessity by him.
Surely the soul must be pure that inhabits a body so perfect,
And of a happy old age such vigorous youth is the promise."
Thereupon answered and said the doctor in language of caution:
"Often appearances cheat; I like not to trust to externals.
For I have oft seen put to the test the truth of the proverb:
Till thou a bushel of salt with a new acquaintance hast eaten,
By whom the maiden is known, and who can inform us about her."
Him the judicious pastor at once addressed and with caution.
"Look! we a maiden have here descried in the neighboring garden,
Under an apple-tree sitting, and making up garments for children
"Out of second-hand stuff that somebody doubtless has given;
Of the heroic deed performed by the hand of that maiden,
Until the day of his death, which was finally hastened by sorrow
Over his city's distress, and his own endangered possessions.
Also, with quiet submission, she bore the death of her lover,
Who a high-spirited youth, in the earliest flush of excitement,
Kindled by lofty resolve to fight for a glorious freedom,
Hurried to Paris, where early a terrible death he encountered.
For as at home, so there, his foes were deceit and oppression."
Thus the magistrate spoke. The others saluted and thanked him,
When he in mournful groups had seen the poor fugitives passing;--
'Mongst thy destitute people, and God vouchsafe it an increase."
And shall return, as I hope, ere yet our stock is exhausted."
Then the pastor replied, and pressed the money upon him:
"Ay, to be sure!" in his bustling way interrupted the doctor:
"If I had only some money about me, ye surely should have it,
Little and big; for certainly many among you must need it.
Several pipes to fill,--and daintily opened, and portioned.
"Small is the gift," he added. The justice, however, made answer:
Then did the village doctor begin to praise his canister.
But the clergyman drew him away, and they quitted the justice.
So they hastened their steps, and came to where under the lindens
Stood, into vacancy gazing before him; nor saw the two envoys,
Still, however, the young man stood, without sign of rejoicing
"Poverty, too, makes proud, when it comes unmerited! Active
Have to turn softly homewards our horses' heads. For my fear is
That to some youth already this heart has been given; already
Straightway the pastor had opened his lips to speak consolation,
When his companion broke in, and said in his voluble fashion:
"Years ago, forsooth, unknown had been such a dilemma.
All such affairs were then conducted in regular fashion.
Soon as a bride for their son had been by the parents selected,
First some family friend they into their councils would summon,
Whom they afterwards sent as a suitor to visit the parents
Of the elected bride. Arrayed in his finest apparel,
Soon after dinner on Sunday he sought the respectable burgher,
When some friendly words were exchanged upon general subjects,
He knowing how to direct the discourse as suited his purpose.
After much circumlocution he finally mentioned the daughter,
Made the chief guest in the house on every festive occasion.
"Let that be as it may!" made answer the youth, who had scarcely
Unto the words paid heed; but in silence had made his decision.
"I will go thither myself, will myself hear my destiny spoken
Out of the lips of a maiden in whom I a confidence cherish
Greater than heart of man has e'er before cherished in woman.
Say what she will, 'twill be good and wise; of that I am certain.
Yet this once the clear gaze of those dark eyes will encounter,
That their son has not been deceived, that the maiden is worthy.
So then leave me alone! I shall follow the footpath that crosses
Thus he spoke, and gave up the reins to the hand of the pastor,
Who understandingly grasped them, the foaming horses controlling,
But as for life and limb, they are not in the safest of keeping,
When the temporal reins are usurped by the hand of the clergy."
For, in holding the reins, my hand grew long ago skilful,
Long has my eye been trained in making the nicest of turnings;
For we were practised well in driving the carriage in Strasburg,
When I the youthful baron accompanied thither; then daily
Rolled the carriage, guided by me, through the echoing gateway,
Out over dusty roads till we reached the meadows and lindens,
Thereupon, half-reassured, the neighbor ascended the wagon,
Sat like one who for a prudent leap is holding him ready,
And the stallions sped rapidly homeward, desiring their stable.
Clouds of dust whirled up from under their powerful hoofbeats.
Long the youth stood there yet, and saw the dust in its rising,
Saw the dust as it settled again: he stood there unheeding.
Then on the sides of the rocks, and on all the darkening bushes,
Sees its hovering image; whatever direction he look in
That hastes before, and flickers and gleams in radiant colors,--
So before Hermann's eyes moved the beautiful shape of the maiden
Fixedly gazed he upon her; herself it was and no phantom.
Bearing in either hand a larger jar and a smaller,
Each by the handle, with busy step she came on to the fountain.
Joyfully then he hastened to meet her; the sight of her gave him
Courage and strength; and thus the astonished girl he accosted:
"Do I then find thee, brave-hearted maiden, so soon again busy,
Rendering aid unto others, and happy in bringing them comfort?
Straightway with cordial greeting the kindly maiden made answer:
"Here has my walk to the spring already been amply rewarded,
This I must tell thee,--that all the water we have in the village
Thus she spoke, and the broad stone steps meanwhile had descended
Took in his hand the jar that remained, and bent himself over,
That he of love should speak; her eye told not of affection,
Only of clear understanding, requiring intelligent answer.
'Twas for thy sake that hither I came; why seek to conceal it?
Know I live happy at home with both my affectionate parents,
Faithfully giving my aid their house and estates in directing,
Being an only son, and because our affairs are extensive.
"Hesitate not," she, answering, said, "to tell me what follows.
One who is skilled in her work, and not of a rude disposition.
Short thy proposal has been, and short shall be also my answer.
Back to her kindred again, who are all in her safety rejoicing.
Most of our people already are gathered; the others will follow.
All think a few days more will certainly see them returning
Unto their homes; for such is the exile's constant delusion.
But by no easy hope do I suffer myself to be cheated
If in a good man's house I can earn my living by service,
Under the eye of an excellent mistress, I gladly will do it;
Since of doubtful repute, must be always a wandering maiden.
Joyfully hearkened the youth to the willing maiden's decision,
Doubtful whether he ought not at once to make honest confession.
Yet it appeared to him best to leave her awhile in her error,
Nor for her love to sue, before leading her home to his dwelling.
Both of the water-jars then in silence she took by the handle,
Carried them up the steps, while behind her followed her lover.
Nor shall the master, who is to command, be doing me service.
Look not so gravely upon me, as thinking my fortune a hard one.
Early a woman should learn to serve, for that is her calling;
Since through service alone she finally comes to the headship,
Comes to the due command that is hers of right in the household.
Or be a fetching and carrying, making and doing for others.
Happy for her be she wonted to think no way is too grievous,
Wholly forgetful of self, and caring to live but in others!
For she will surely, as mother, have need of every virtue,
Then with a serious face the maiden replied to them, saying:
Think of me then sometimes and of all my affectionate service,
Prompted more by my love than the duty I owed you as kindred.
And I refuse not the offer; for maidens must always be serving;
And so will also the parents be, as becometh the wealthy.
And who me also henceforth, thy sister, will shelter and nourish.
For I have often observed how in sheep, as in horses and oxen,
Men conclude never a bargain without making closest inspection,
And we are left, when too late, to repent an o'er hasty decision.
Many were come, meanwhile, near relatives all of the mother,
"Let us be going; the day is declining, and distant the city."
Eager and voluble then the women embraced Dorothea;
Hermann drew her away; but other adieus must be spoken:
Towards the setting sun the two thus went on their journey:
Gleaming over the field shot forth the ominous lightning.
And in the waving luxuriant grain they delighted together:
Thereupon spoke the maiden, and said to her guide and companion:
"Friend, unto whom I soon am to owe so kindly a fortune,
Shelter and home, while many an exile's exposed to the tempest,
Who understands his master, more easily gives satisfaction,
Tell me therefore, I pray, how to win thy father and mother."
And to her question made answer the good and intelligent Hermann:
Asking thus first of all concerning the tastes of my parents!
Know that in vain hitherto I have labored in serving my father,
Taking upon me as were it my own, the charge of the household;
And thou wilt also appear in her eyes the worthiest of maidens,
That unto thee a stranger I straightway discover my father.
Nay, I assure thee that never before have words such as these are
Some of the graces of life my good father covets about him,
Outward signs of affection he wishes, as well as of honor;
And an inferior servant might possibly give satisfaction,
Thereupon said she with joy, the while her hastening footsteps
Over the darkening pathway with easy motion she quickened:
"Truly I hope to them both I shall equally give satisfaction:
For in thy mother's nature I find such an one as mine own is,
And to the outward graces I've been from my childhood accustomed.
During their earlier days; it was common to noble and burgher,
Under the shade of the glorious tree, the spot he so treasured,
Seemed the hour: he feared he should only haste on a refusal.
Ah, and he felt besides the ring on her finger, sad token!
Therefore they sat there, silent and still, beside one another.
And in the gable--methinks I can number its panes-is a window."
"What thou seest," the modest youth thereupon made her answer,--
Which will be thine perhaps, for various changes are making.
Until they came to the vineyard, and so entered into its shadow.
Then he guided her down o'er the numerous blocks that were lying,
And his beloved upheld. She gently sank on his shoulder;
And the perfume of her breath, that over his lips was exhaling;
Bore with the heart of a man the majestic form of the woman.
Muses, O ye who the course of true love so willingly favor,
Ye who thus far on his way the excellent youth have conducted,
Even before the betrothal have pressed to his bosom the maiden;
Further your aid vouchsafe this charming pair in uniting,
Now for the third time again the mother impatient had entered
Unto my late, blessed father, who every root of impatience
Tore from my heart when a child, and left no fibre remaining;
So made the neighbor reply. "When a boy I once stood of a Sunday
Led me away to the window, and spoke in this serious language:
When that man shall himself be astir and all of his workmen,
Making a coffin for thee to be quickly and skilfully finished.
Then that house of boards they will busily bring over hither,
Which must at last receive alike the impatient and patient,
Now when others I see, in seasons of anxious expectance,
Running distracted about, I cannot but think of the coffin."
Those it presses again into life, and teaches to use it;
These by affliction it strengthens in hope to future salvation.
Death becomes life unto both. Thy father was greatly mistaken
When to a sensitive boy he death in death thus depicted.
Let us the value of nobly ripe age, point out to the young man,
And to the aged the youth, that in the eternal progression
Both may rejoice, and life may in life thus find its completion."
But the door was now opened, and showed the majestical couple.
As they together now appeared coming over the threshold.
Hermann, with hurried words, presented her thus to his parents:
Quickly he then drew aside the excellent clergyman, saying:
"Help me, O worthy sir, and speedily out of this trouble;
Loosen, I pray thee, this knot, at whose untying I tremble.
Thus shall be left, and I this suspense no longer can suffer.
Hasten and show us in this a proof of the wisdom we honor."
Towards the company then the clergyman instantly turned him;
But already, alas! had the soul of the maiden been troubled,
Hearing the father's speech; for he, in his sociable fashion,
Hermann had heard but in part; his limbs were inwardly trembling,
"Truly for such a reception thy son had in no wise prepared me,
When he the ways of his father described, the excellent burgher.
Thou art a man of culture, I know, before whom I am standing;
Dealest with every one wisely, according as suits his position;
But thou hast scanty compassion, it seems, on one such as I am,
Yet I know well myself; I feel the relations between us,
Anxiously Hermann turned and signed to his ally the pastor
Therefore he unto her said in language intended to try her:
And but a single 'yea' compels to much patient endurance.
Since the industrious freeman must toil as well as the servant.
And with the rude, overbearing ways of unmannerly children.
All this is hard to endure, and yet to go on with thy duties
Quickly, without delay, nor thyself grow sullen and stubborn.
Yet thou appearest ill fitted for this, since already so deeply
Stung by the father's jests: whereas there is nothing more common
Knows not how little of power his cold words have in relieving
Ever a heart from that woe which a sovereign fate has inflicted.
Nay, concealment itself, if successful, had profited nothing.
Better show now what had later increased to a bitterer anguish,
And to an inward consuming despair might perhaps have reduced me.
I will away, and wander in search of my hapless companions,
Which might for years perhaps have else lain hid in my bosom.
Deeply indeed was I hurt by the father's words of derision;
Not that I'm sensitive, proud beyond what is fitting a servant;
But that my heart in truth had felt itself stirred with affection
Whom as a bride, perhaps, his heart had already elected.
When at the fountain I met him again, the sight of him wakened
Pleasure as great as if there had met me an angel from heaven;
Now I, alas! for the first time see what risk I was running,
When I would make my home so near to the secretly loved one;
Now for the first time feel how far removed a poor maiden
Is from an opulent youth, no matter how great her deserving.
All this I now confess, that my heart ye may not misinterpret,
In that 'twas hurt by a chance to which I owe my awaking.
Hiding my secret desires, this dread had been ever before me,
Happily I have been warned, and happily now has my bosom
Longer here in a house where I stay but in shame and confusion,
Freely confessing my love and that foolish hope that I cherished.
Not the pelt of the rain which without is beating in fury;
Thus she spoke and back to the door she hastily turned her,
But still the father stood, observing the scene with displeasure,
"This then must be the return that I get for all my indulgence,
Violent outcries, which only involve in disorder and passion,
What with a little of sense had been more smoothly adjusted.
Quickly he turned as he spoke, and hastened to go to the chamber
Which by his dissimulation our friend unexpectedly heightened.
Speak, O worthy sir; for to thee my cause I intrusted.
Heap not up sorrow and anger, but rather let all this be ended;
For I could hold thee never again in such high estimation,
If thou shouldst show but delight in pain, not superior wisdom."
Thereupon answered and said the excellent clergyman, smiling:
Not to engage the stranger, the excellent maid, as a servant,
Unto the fountain I came; but to sue for thy love I came thither.
Nowise perceive; I read in thine eyes of nothing but kindness,
As from the fountain's tranquil mirror thou gavest me greeting.
Might I but bring thee home, the half of my joy was accomplished.
Then with a deep emotion the maiden gazed on the stripling;
Neither forbade she embrace and kiss, the summit of rapture,
When to a loving pair they come as the longed-for assurance,
Unto the others, meanwhile, the pastor had made explanation.
But with feeling and grace the maid now advanced to the father,
For I can scarce comprehend the happiness newly vouchsafed me.
Yes, let that first vexation of which I, bewildered, was guilty
Be too the last. Whatever the maid of affectionate service
Thereupon quickly he seized, the good and intelligent pastor,
And, as the maiden confesses, her heart is gone out to him also.
Then the neighbor saluted at once, and expressed his good wishes;
Over the maiden's hand, he observed with amazement the other,
But she, answering, said: "Oh, let me to this recollection
Yet one moment devote; for so much is due the good giver,
Now for a time on the earth, and every thing seems to be parting.
Property falls away from the hand of the ancient possessor;
Friend is parted from friend; and so parts lover from lover.
Here I leave thee, and where I shall find thee again, or if ever,
Over the ruins of earth, it will be as newly made creatures,
Beings transformed and free, no longer dependent on fortune;
Ever again we be granted the bliss of mutual embraces,
Oh, then before thy thoughts so keep my hovering image
That with unshaken mind thou be ready for good or for evil!
Should new ties allure thee again, and a new habitation,
Enter with gratitude into the joys that fate shall prepare thee;
For there is lurking the twofold pain of a new separation.
Blessings attend thy life; but value existence no higher
Than thine other possessions, and all possessions are cheating!'
Thus spoke the noble youth, and never again I beheld him.
Happiness for me anew, and glorious hopes are reviving,
Oh forgive me, excellent friend, that e'en while I hold thee
Close to my side I tremble! So unto the late-landed sailor
Seem the most solid foundations of firmest earth to be rocking."
Thus she spoke, and placed the two rings on her finger together.
But her lover replied with a noble and manly emotion:
"So much the firmer then, amid these universal convulsions,
Be, Dorothea, our union! We two will hold fast and continue,
This is our own! let that be our word, and let us maintain it!
For to those resolute peoples respect will be ever accorded,
Who for God and the laws, for parents, women and children,
Not with anxiety will I preserve it, and trembling enjoyment;
And were but every man minded like me, there would be an upspring