Out on the ancient bastion,
Under the lindens I stay.
There stands by yon gray old tower,
The sentry-house of the town;
A red clad peasant soldier
Goes pacing up and down.
He toys with his shining musket,
That gleams in the sunset red,
Presenting and shouldering arms now,—
I wish he would shoot me dead!
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Kindle the taper like the steadfast star
And add each night a lustre till afarAn eightfold splendor shine above thy hearth.Clash, Israel, the cymbals, touch the lyre,Blow the brass trumpet and the harsh-tongued horn;Chant psalms of victory till the heart takes fire,The Maccabean spirit leap new-born.Remember how from wintry dawn till night,Such songs were sung in Zion, when againOn the high altar…
Prelude
Hung heavy, brooding over land and sea:Our hearts, a-tremble, throbbed in harmonyWith the wild, restless tone of air and sky.Shall we not call im Prospero who heldIn his enchanted hands the fateful keyOf that tempestuous hour’s mystery,And with controlling wand our spirits spelled,With him to wander by a sun-bright shore,To hear fine, fairy voices, and…
Across the Eastern sky has glowed
Once more the clarion cock has crowed,Once more the sword of Christ is drawn.A million burning rooftrees lightThe world-wide path of Israel’s flight.Where is the Hebrew’s fatherland?The folk of Christ is sore bestead;The Son of Man is bruised and banned,Nor finds whereon to lay his head.His cup is gall, his meat is tears,His passion lasts…
‘Oh brew me a potion strong and good!
Shall charm his sense and fire his blood,And bend his will to mine.’Poor child of passion! ask of meElixir of death or sleep,Or Lethe’s stream; but love is free,And woman must wait and weep.
WEAK, slender blades of tender green,
What maketh ye so dear to all?Nor bud, nor flower, nor fruit have ye,So tiny, it can only be‘Mongst fairies ye are counted tall.No beauty is in this,— ah, yea,E’en as I gaze on you to-day,Your hue and fragrance bear me backInto the green, wide fields of old,With clear, blue air, and manifoldBright buds and…
He who could beard the lion in his lair,
And drive these beasts before his chariot,Might wed Alcestis. For her low brows’ sake,Her hairs’ soft undulations of warm gold,Her eyes’ clear color and pure virgin mouth,Though many would draw bow or shiver spear,Yet none dared meet the intolerable eye,Or lipless tusk, of lion or of boar.This heard Admetus, King of Thessaly,Whose broad, fat pastures…