The Rose.

I.

In his tower sat the poet

Gazing on the roaring sea,

"Take this rose," he sighed, "and throw it Where there's none that loveth me!

On the rock the billow bursteth

And sinks back into the seas,

But in vain my spirit thirsteth
So to burst and be at ease.

Take, o sea! the tender blossom

That hath lain against my breast;

On thy black and angry bosom
It will find a surer rest.

Life is vain, and love is hollow,

Ugly death stands there behind,

Die Rose.

I.

uf dem Thurme sigt der Dichter,
Schaut auf's Meer, vom Sturm bewegt;

"Bring die Rose hin," so spricht er,

„Wo kein liebend Herz mir schlägt.

An den Fels die Welle dröhnet,
Fällt dann in die Flut zurück;
Doch umsonst mein Herz sich sehnet,
So zu finden Ruh' und Glück.

Nimm, o See! die zarten Blüten,

Die an meiner Brust geruht;

Sichre Raft und tiefern Frieden
Finden sie in deiner Flut.

Hohl ist Lieb' und Lust auf Erden,

Grimmen Tod die Zukunft birgt;

*

Hate and scorn and hunger follow

Him that toileth for his kind." Forth into the night he hurled it,

And with bitter smile did mark

How the surly tempest whirled it
Swift into the hungry dark.
Foam and spray drive back to leeward,
And the gale with dreary moan,

Drifts the helpless blossom seaward,
Through the breakers all alone.

II.

Stands a maiden, on the morrow,
Musing by the wave-beat strand,
Half in hope and half in sorrow,
Tracing words upon the sand:
"Shall I ever then behold him

-

Who hath been my life so long,
Ever to this sick heart fold him,
Be the spirit of his song?
Touch not, sea, the blessed letters
I have traced upon thy shore

Haß und Hohn und Hunger werden

Tem, der für die Menschheit wirkt." In die Nacht warf er die Rose,

Bitter lächelnd schaute er, Wie der Wogen wild Getose

Warf sie wirbelnd hin und her. Gischt und Brandung tobten leewärts

Und des rauhen Windes Macht Trieb das zarte Blümchen seewärts, Hilflos durch die dunkle Nacht.

II.

Steht die Jungfrau drauf am Morgen
Sinnend an des Meeres Strand;
Halb in Hoffnung, halb in Sorgen —
Schreibt sie Worte in den Sand:

,,Werd' ich ihn denn je erblicken,

Ter mein Herz erfüllt so lang?

Je an diese Brust ihn drücken —
Leben je in seinem Sang?

Laß, o See! den theuren Namen,

Den ich schrieb auf deinen Strand

Spare his name whose spirit fetters

Mine with love forevermore !" Swells the tide and overflows it,

But, with omen pure and meet, Brings a little rose, and throws it Humbly at the maiden's feet. Full of bliss she takes the token, And, upon her snowy breast, Soothes the ruffled petals broken

With the ocean's fierce unrest. "Love is thine, o heart! and surely Peace shall also be thine own, For the heart that trusteth purely Never long can pine alone."

III.

In his tower sits the poet,

Blisses new and strange to him

Fill his heart and overflow it

With a wonder sweet and dim.

Up the beach the ocean slideth
With a whisper of delight,