Classic Poem

I.

The old, grayheaded monarch sits
On the throne his fathers won;
His mantle gleams like the evening's glow,
His crown as the setting sun.

" Come hither, my first and my second sons,
For you shall the kingdom be;
My third dear son, my favourite child,
What pledge shall I leave for thee? "

" Give me no treasure except thy crown,
(Tho' rusty and old it be),
And three strong vessels, and bid me seek
A kingdom beyond the sea! "

II.

The young prince stood at the vessel's prow,
And watched it onward fare;
The sun shone bright and the breezes played
With his radiant golden hair.

The rudder creaks, the sails swell out,
Far stream the pennons gay;
Around the keel with a low sweet song
The mermaids flash and play.

" Behold my kingdom " , the prince exclaims,
" Far-stretching without a bound,
That sweeps with its billows fresh and blue
The sluggish earth around! "

But heavy clouds come rolling up,
Fierce gales and storms they bring;
The lightning flashes athwart the gloom,
And the masts in pieces spring.

The mountain-waves 'gainst the vessel's side
Break with a thunderous roar;
Whirled in the depths is the daring prince,
His dream of empire o'er!

III.

Fisherman.

" Alas! 'tis sunken, mast and keel,
And the seamen's cries are o'er;
But see! who hither so stoutly swims
As the waves around him roar?

He smites the flood with a sturdy arm,
Right little the waves he fears;
High lifts he his head with a golden crown,
Like a king's his mien appears! "

Youth.

" A king's son I — but my childhood's home
Have I lost beyond recal!
The earthly mother was faint and weak
That bare me first of all;

A second mother, the mighty sea,
Hath borne me now again;
With her giant arms she wildly rocked
My brothers and me amain!

The others, alas! survived it not;
But me she hath borne astrand,
And chosen for me a kingdom fair,
This broad and welcome land! "

IV.

Fisherman.

" Why watchest thou thus thy fishing lines
From early morn till night,
And yet, with all thy wondrous care,
Bring'st never a fish to sight? "

Youth.

" I angle not for a paltry fish,
But gaze in the depths below,
And see, too deep for the fisher's art,
Much kingly pomp and show. "

V.

" How like a monarch the lion stalks!
His mane in the air he shakes;
And utters laws with a despot's voice
Through woods and forest-brakes.

Yet with my spear in my stalwart hand
I'll lay him before me dead;
And proudly o'er my shoulders broad
His golden garment spread.

How like a monarch the eagle soars!
He rises on joyous wing,
As though he would seize the golden sun
To crown himself a king.

But far aloft to the distant cloud
Shall soar my arrow fleet,
Shall reach him there and shall pierce him through,
And lay him beneath my feet. "

VI.

A wild horse through the forest runs,
That never hath felt the rein;
Its colour like cream; its hoofs strike fire,
It tosses its long thick mane.

The young prince seizes its flowing mane,
Himself on its back he swings;
Its tail it lashes, its chest dilates,
Loud-neighing, it forward springs.

And all that down in the valley dwell
In listening wonder throng,
And seem to hear, on the hills above,
Hoarse thunders roll along.

Then, wrapt about with the lion's hide,
Before them the prince doth dash;
Out streams the mane of the savage steed,
And sparks from its foot-tracks flash.

The people cluster around him soon
With jubilant shout and song:
" All hail! 'tis he, 'tis the mighty prince
We have waited for all too long! "

VII.

Behold yon steep and lofty crag,
Round which the eagle flies!
There's none will dare to its peak to climb,
For there the dragon lies!

There lies she within the mouldering walls;
Her crest like gold doth gleam;
She rustles along with her scaly skin,
And her breath, it is flame and steam.

The youth, unarmed with a sword or shield,
Hath boldly attained the height;
His arms he around the serpent casts,
And grasps her with conquering might.

Then thrice he kisseth her ghastly mouth,
For thus must he break the spells;
In his arms he claspeth a lovely maid,
The fairest on earth that dwells.

Now crowned is his young and lovely bride,
And close to his heart she lies;
From the ruins old, self-built, behold
A regal castle rise!

VIII.

The king and queen stand side by side
By the throne he hath boldly won;
The throne shines bright as the morning's glow,
Their crowns as the rising sun.

A knightly band doth around them stand,
Their swords in their hands they hold;
And ne'er can they turn their eyes away
From the throne of gleaming gold.

A blind and aged minstrel leans
On his harp, as he rests from song;
He feels that the time at length is come
He hath waited for all too long.

At once by the throne's bright sheen is burst
The veil that dimmed his sight;
Around him he gazes, and ne'er can tire
Of the pomp so royally bright.

He seizes his harp, he smites the strings;
With clearest tones it rang;
And, flushed with the light and rapt with joy,
Like a swan ere it dies he sang.