Ich kam von meiner Herrin Haus
Ich kam von meiner Herrin Haus
I came from my true love's house and stood,
Wrapped in a dark and midnight mood,
Within a lonely churchyard where
The tombstones glistened bright and bare.
It was the glimmering moon that shone
Still brighter on the Minstrel's stone.
I heard, " Wait, brother, — the hour flies. "
And, pale as the mist, I saw him rise.
It was the Minstrel, bone for bone,
Who rose and sat on his crumbling stone;
And he grasped his zither and sang this song
In a voice that was hollow and harsh and strong:
" Ha! do ye know the old refrain
Ye strings, that echoed with its pain?
Know ye the name thereof?
The angels call it Heaven's desire,
The devils call it Hell's own fire,
And man, he calls it — Love! "
Scarce had he shouted the final word
When all the buried people stirred.
Up from their graves they rose, and sprang
About the Minstrel as they sang:
" Love, oh Love, your power has led
Us to this, our final bed.
Eyes are closed in a quiet head —
Why do you call and rouse the dead? "
And loudly they rattled and whimpered and wailed,
They chattered and clattered and rumbled and railed;
And madly the swarm ran round and about
While the Minstrel played, and sang with a shout:
" Bravo! Bravo! Madmen still!
Welcome, madmen,
Good and bad men,
That my magic words could thrill!
Ye who lie, year in, year out,
In a dark and dusty drought,
Let this be a merry rout!
But look first
If there's any one about.
Fools we were when we were living,
While our burning blood was giving
Us a mad and passionate thirst.
Now, for pastime and for glory,
Every one shall tell his story;
Tell what brought him to this place;
How be fared
And was snared
In Love's mad and furious chase. "
And then from the circle, as light as the wind,
There hopped a lean phantom who hummed as he grinned:
" A tailor's lad was I, sirs,
(With needle and with shears,)
I was so slick and spry, sirs,
(With needle and with shears. " )
My master's daughter tricked me
( With needle and with shears,)
And to the heart she pricked me
(With needle and with shears, " )
The spirits all laughed till their skeletons shook;
And a second stepped forth with a serious look:
" O, Rinaldo Rinaldini,
Robin Hood and Orlandini,
And Carl Moor (the best of those)
Were the models that I chose.
" I too, in a milder fashion,
Like these brigands, tasted passion;
While a certain lady's face
Haunted me from place to place.
" All my hopes were crushed and saddened;
And when Love at last grew maddened,
My mad fingers, growing rash,
Dipped into my neighbor's cash.
" But a watchman who was jealous
Said my mourning was too zealous;
Said I tried to dry my griefs
In my neighbor's handkerchiefs.
" Then the old policemen caught me;
To the station-house they brought me;
And the great, gray prison pressed
Me to its maternal breast.
" Thoughts of love (I could not choke 'em)
Plagued me still while picking oakum;
Till Rinaldo's shadow passed
And released my soul at last. "
The spirits all laughed with a boisterous shout;
And powdered and perfumed, a third stepped out:
" As king of the boards I had striven
To play every amorous role;
How often I ranted, " Oh heaven!"
And whispered a wild, " Ah, my soul."
" As Romeo none could do better;
(My Juliet was always so fair!)
Though I acted my lines to the letter
She never would answer my prayer.
" One night, as I started to stagger
At the end, and as " Juliet!" I cried,
I stuck the sharp point of the dagger
A little too deep in my side. "
The spirits all laughed with a boisterous shout;
And, clad in a white cloth, a fourth stepped out:
" The Professor talked of the spirit and letter;
He talked, and he talked — and I slept right well.
But one thing of his I enjoyed far better:
His daughter, more lovely than words could tell
" For me were her eyes and the smiles that she lavished,
My flower of flowers, my Love's own light!
But my flower of flowers was stolen and ravished
By a sour philistine, a wealthy old blight.
" Then I cursed all rich scoundrels and women together;
The devil's own brew I prepared at the end.
Then drank with Lord Satan (two birds of a feather);
He hiccuped " Fiducit , old Death is your friend." "
The spirits all laughed with a boisterous shout;
And, a rope 'round his neck, a fifth stepped out:
" The Count, he boasted and bragged at his wine
Of his daughters divine and his jewel so fine.
Your jewel, dear Count, may be ever so fine,
But truly, I'd rather your daughter were mine.
" The Count kept them both under lock, bolt and key;
And a houseful of servants to guard them had he.
What mattered his locks and his servants to me —
I got me a ladder and mounted with glee.
" I stood at her window with ardor and joy,
When I heard a voice calling beneath me, " Ho, boy!
Fine doings, my lad, but give me my share —
I'm also in love with the jewel that's there." " And thus the Count jeered at and mocked me, the while
His servants flocked 'round, with a sinister smile.
" The devil!" I cried, " Do you think I would thieve?
I came for my love, which I'll take by your leave." . . .
" But anger availed not, nor pleadings nor prayers;
And they marched in a solemn parade down the stairs.
When the sun rose, she started, astonished to see
The gallows so shining and heavy — with me. "
The spirits all laughed in a boisterous shout;
With his head in his hand, a sixth stepped out:
" Love drove me to the poacher's trade,
And, musket on my arm, I strayed
Beneath the trees where ravens scoff
And croak and cough: " Heads — off! Heads — off!"
" Oh, if I only saw a dove
I'd bring it home to my true love;
So I mused on, and every tree
Received my hunter's scrutiny.
" What do I hear? What billing's that?
Two turtle-doves! I've got 'em pat.
I crept up close; I caught the pair —
And lo! I found my own love there!
" It was my nestling dove, my bride;
A strange man snuggling at her side —
Now, you old marksman, aim, aim well!
There, in his blood, the stranger fell.
" Soon, through the woods, the hangman's crew,
With me, chief actor, in review
Passed the same trees where ravens scoff
And croak and cough: " Heads — off! Heads — off." "
The spirits all laughed in a boisterous chorus;
Until the Minstrel himself stepped before us:
" I once had a song that I cherished,
But that sweet song is gone.
When the heart has loved and perished
Then all of our singing is done. "
And the crazy laughter grew twice as loud,
As the circle swayed wide with its ghostly crowd.
The bells struck " One " . . . and, to a man,
Howling into their graves they ran.
I came from my true love's house and stood,
Wrapped in a dark and midnight mood,
Within a lonely churchyard where
The tombstones glistened bright and bare.
It was the glimmering moon that shone
Still brighter on the Minstrel's stone.
I heard, " Wait, brother, — the hour flies. "
And, pale as the mist, I saw him rise.
It was the Minstrel, bone for bone,
Who rose and sat on his crumbling stone;
And he grasped his zither and sang this song
In a voice that was hollow and harsh and strong:
" Ha! do ye know the old refrain
Ye strings, that echoed with its pain?
Know ye the name thereof?
The angels call it Heaven's desire,
The devils call it Hell's own fire,
And man, he calls it — Love! "
Scarce had he shouted the final word
When all the buried people stirred.
Up from their graves they rose, and sprang
About the Minstrel as they sang:
" Love, oh Love, your power has led
Us to this, our final bed.
Eyes are closed in a quiet head —
Why do you call and rouse the dead? "
And loudly they rattled and whimpered and wailed,
They chattered and clattered and rumbled and railed;
And madly the swarm ran round and about
While the Minstrel played, and sang with a shout:
" Bravo! Bravo! Madmen still!
Welcome, madmen,
Good and bad men,
That my magic words could thrill!
Ye who lie, year in, year out,
In a dark and dusty drought,
Let this be a merry rout!
But look first
If there's any one about.
Fools we were when we were living,
While our burning blood was giving
Us a mad and passionate thirst.
Now, for pastime and for glory,
Every one shall tell his story;
Tell what brought him to this place;
How be fared
And was snared
In Love's mad and furious chase. "
And then from the circle, as light as the wind,
There hopped a lean phantom who hummed as he grinned:
" A tailor's lad was I, sirs,
(With needle and with shears,)
I was so slick and spry, sirs,
(With needle and with shears. " )
My master's daughter tricked me
( With needle and with shears,)
And to the heart she pricked me
(With needle and with shears, " )
The spirits all laughed till their skeletons shook;
And a second stepped forth with a serious look:
" O, Rinaldo Rinaldini,
Robin Hood and Orlandini,
And Carl Moor (the best of those)
Were the models that I chose.
" I too, in a milder fashion,
Like these brigands, tasted passion;
While a certain lady's face
Haunted me from place to place.
" All my hopes were crushed and saddened;
And when Love at last grew maddened,
My mad fingers, growing rash,
Dipped into my neighbor's cash.
" But a watchman who was jealous
Said my mourning was too zealous;
Said I tried to dry my griefs
In my neighbor's handkerchiefs.
" Then the old policemen caught me;
To the station-house they brought me;
And the great, gray prison pressed
Me to its maternal breast.
" Thoughts of love (I could not choke 'em)
Plagued me still while picking oakum;
Till Rinaldo's shadow passed
And released my soul at last. "
The spirits all laughed with a boisterous shout;
And powdered and perfumed, a third stepped out:
" As king of the boards I had striven
To play every amorous role;
How often I ranted, " Oh heaven!"
And whispered a wild, " Ah, my soul."
" As Romeo none could do better;
(My Juliet was always so fair!)
Though I acted my lines to the letter
She never would answer my prayer.
" One night, as I started to stagger
At the end, and as " Juliet!" I cried,
I stuck the sharp point of the dagger
A little too deep in my side. "
The spirits all laughed with a boisterous shout;
And, clad in a white cloth, a fourth stepped out:
" The Professor talked of the spirit and letter;
He talked, and he talked — and I slept right well.
But one thing of his I enjoyed far better:
His daughter, more lovely than words could tell
" For me were her eyes and the smiles that she lavished,
My flower of flowers, my Love's own light!
But my flower of flowers was stolen and ravished
By a sour philistine, a wealthy old blight.
" Then I cursed all rich scoundrels and women together;
The devil's own brew I prepared at the end.
Then drank with Lord Satan (two birds of a feather);
He hiccuped " Fiducit , old Death is your friend." "
The spirits all laughed with a boisterous shout;
And, a rope 'round his neck, a fifth stepped out:
" The Count, he boasted and bragged at his wine
Of his daughters divine and his jewel so fine.
Your jewel, dear Count, may be ever so fine,
But truly, I'd rather your daughter were mine.
" The Count kept them both under lock, bolt and key;
And a houseful of servants to guard them had he.
What mattered his locks and his servants to me —
I got me a ladder and mounted with glee.
" I stood at her window with ardor and joy,
When I heard a voice calling beneath me, " Ho, boy!
Fine doings, my lad, but give me my share —
I'm also in love with the jewel that's there." " And thus the Count jeered at and mocked me, the while
His servants flocked 'round, with a sinister smile.
" The devil!" I cried, " Do you think I would thieve?
I came for my love, which I'll take by your leave." . . .
" But anger availed not, nor pleadings nor prayers;
And they marched in a solemn parade down the stairs.
When the sun rose, she started, astonished to see
The gallows so shining and heavy — with me. "
The spirits all laughed in a boisterous shout;
With his head in his hand, a sixth stepped out:
" Love drove me to the poacher's trade,
And, musket on my arm, I strayed
Beneath the trees where ravens scoff
And croak and cough: " Heads — off! Heads — off!"
" Oh, if I only saw a dove
I'd bring it home to my true love;
So I mused on, and every tree
Received my hunter's scrutiny.
" What do I hear? What billing's that?
Two turtle-doves! I've got 'em pat.
I crept up close; I caught the pair —
And lo! I found my own love there!
" It was my nestling dove, my bride;
A strange man snuggling at her side —
Now, you old marksman, aim, aim well!
There, in his blood, the stranger fell.
" Soon, through the woods, the hangman's crew,
With me, chief actor, in review
Passed the same trees where ravens scoff
And croak and cough: " Heads — off! Heads — off." "
The spirits all laughed in a boisterous chorus;
Until the Minstrel himself stepped before us:
" I once had a song that I cherished,
But that sweet song is gone.
When the heart has loved and perished
Then all of our singing is done. "
And the crazy laughter grew twice as loud,
As the circle swayed wide with its ghostly crowd.
The bells struck " One " . . . and, to a man,
Howling into their graves they ran.
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