Seest thou the dewy grapes before thee swelling? -He that hath left me train'd that loaded vine! He was a child when thus the bower he wove, (Oh! hath a day fled since his childhood's time?) That I might sit and hear the sound I love, Beneath its shade the convent's vesper-chime. And sit thou there!-for he was gentle ever, With his glad voice he would have welcomed thee, And brought fresh fruits to cool thy parch'd lips' fever There in his place thou'rt resting-where is he? If I could hear that laughing voice again, But once again!—how oft it wanders by, In the still hours, like some remember'd strain, Troubling the heart with its wild melody!— Thou hast seen much, tired pilgrim! hast thou seen In that far land, the chosen land of yore, A youth-my Guido-with the fiery mien And the dark eye of this Italian shore? The dark, clear, lightning eye!-on heaven and earth It smiled The as if man were not dust it smiled! very air seem'd kindling with his mirth, And I-my heart grew young before my child! My blessed child!-I had but him—yet he Fill'd all my home even with o'erflowing joy, Sweet laughter, and wild song, and footstep freeWhere is he now ?-my pride, my flower, my boy! His sunny childhood melted from my sight, I knew these woods might be his world no more! He loved me but he left me !—thus they go Whom we have rear'd, watch'd, bless'd, too much adored! He heard the trumpet of the Red-Cross blow, And bounded from me with his father's sword! Thou weep'st-I tremble—thou hast seen the slain Pressing a bloody turf; the young and fair, With their pale beauty strewing o'er the plain Where hosts have met-speak! answer!—was he there? Oh! hath his smile departed ?-Could the grave Shut o'er those bursts of bright and tameless glee?— No! I shall yet behold his dark locks wave That look gives hope-I knew it could not be ! Still weep'st thou, wand'rer ?—some fond mother's glance O'er thee, too, brooded in thine early yearsThink'st thou of her, whose gentle eye, perchance, Bathed all thy faded hair with parting tears? Speak, for thy tears disturb me!-what art thou? Why dost thou hide thy face, yet weeping on? Look up !-oh! is it that wan cheek and brow!Is it alas! yet joy!-my son, my son! THEKLA'S SONG; OR, THE VOICE OF A SPIRIT. FROM THE GERMAN OF SCHILLER. [This song is said to have been composed by Schiller in answer to the enquiries of his friends respecting the fate of Thekla, whose beautiful character is withdrawn from the tragedy of Wallenstein's Death, after her resolution to visit the grave of her lover is made known.] "Tis not merely The human being's pride that peoples space ASK'ST thou know, COLERIDGE'S Translation of Wallenstein. my home ?—my pathway would'st thou When from thine eye my floating shadow pass'd? Was not my work fulfill'd and closed below? Had I not lived and loved?-my lot was cast. Would'st thou ask where the nightingale is gone, But while she loved, she lived, in that deep lay! Think'st thou my heart its lost one hath not found?— Yes! we are one: oh! trust me, we have met, Where nought again may part what love hath bound, Where falls no tear, and whispers no regret. There shalt thou find us, there with us be blest, And well he feels, no error of the dust Drew to the stars of heaven his mortal ken, There shall each feeling, beautiful and high, THE REVELLERS. RING, joyous chords !-ring out again! A swifter still, and a wilder strain! They are here-the fair face and the careless heart, And stars shall wane ere the mirthful part.— But I met a dimly mournful glance, In a sudden turn of the flying dance; I heard the tone of a heavy sigh In a pause of the thrilling melody! And it is not well that woe should breathe On the bright spring-flowers of the festal wreath!-- Ye that to thought or to grief belong, Leave, leave the hall of song! * Wallenstein. Ring, joyous chords!-but who art thou With the shadowy locks o'er thy pale, young brow And the world of dreamy gloom that lies In the misty depths of thy soft dark eyes? Thou hast loved, fair girl! thou hast loved too well! There is not a tone in our songs for thee- Ring, joyous chords!-ring out again!— Ring, joyous chords !-ring forth again! By thine eye's quick flash through its troubled cloud, |