Classic Poem

THE M OTHER'S Curse .

Early, at the Sabbath dawning,
Hermann combed his faithful charger:
When his mother to him hastened,
And she offered him four apples —
" Whither art thou speeding, Hermann?
Wherefore hast thy courser saddled? "
" I am going to my maiden,
To my well-beloved Dortha. "
" Go not thither, Hermann! go not;
Send thy saddled steed to bring her. " —
" Nay, I will not be uncourteous,
Will not let the guests draw hither,
While I tarry in my dwelling. "
" Then let Hermann's neck be broken;
Never let him wend him hither. "
Hasten — hasten — hither hasten,
Viols, and guitars are playing,
Bubnowaks and drums and trumpets.

As they passed across the meadow,
Underneath the shad lindens,
Hermann's faithful charger stumbled,
Hermann fell — his neck was broken.
Long they stood, and long they counselled,

While the music still was playing;
Long they counselled — whether onwards,
Whether backwards they should hasten —
" Hasten, hasten, forward hasten,
To my gold and to my gladness —
If she may not be my portion,
She shall be my younger brother's. "
Hurry, hurry, hurry onward,
Viols and guitars are playing,
Bubnowaks, and drums and trumpets.

So they sped them up the mountain,
To the towers of Nowosedlitz —
" Dortha! open! swiftly open,
Give the wedding-guests thy greeting. "
Dortha opened, swiftly opened —
In an instant fear o'ercame her —
" Welcome! wedding guests! be welcome —
Tell me where ye left the bridegroom? "
" Safe at home we left the bridegroom
Making ready for the wedding. "
" I have been at many a wedding,
Never saw I, never heard I,
That at home a bridegroom tarried,

Making ready for the wedding. "
Dortha's mother then forbade them,
Till they brought the bridegroom thither —
" Mother! nay! but give the maiden,
Nay! deny us not thy Dortha. "
Then her mother clad her gaily,
Gave her many a splendid garment,
Led her forth, and gave the maiden;
And began a piteous mourning.
Hasten — hasten — onwards hasten,
Viols and guitars are playing,
Kettle-drums and loud-voic'd trumpets.

W HEN they passed across the meadow,
Underneath the shady lindens,
Dortha saw beneath her carriage,
Drops of blood upon the border —
" That is Hermann's blood! 'tis Hermann's! "
" Nay! it is no blood of mortal,
'Tis some tenant of the forest;
'Tis some doe, by Hermann slaughtered,
Venison for his guests providing.
Hasten — hasten — hasten onward,
Viols and guitars are playing,
Kettle-drums and loud-voiced trumpets.

So they hastened up the mountain,
And they entered Hermann's dwelling —
" Mother! come and greet the maiden;
Greet the bride, the wretched woman. " —
" Shall I greet thee, wretched maiden!
Would that thou thy neck hadst broken
Ere that thou hadst known my Hermann. " —
" Brother! go, and greet the maiden;
Greet the bride, thy hapless sister. " —
" Sister! go and greet the maiden,
Greet the bride, thy hapless sister. "
" Sister! sister! well I greet thee,
In a year a son shall bless thee. "
And the mother deemed it evil
That her children greeted Dortha.
" Wherefore, wherefore, deem it evil —
I, at least, no wrong have done thee. "
In the midst of evening's banquet,
Lo! the bell of death was tolling:
Dortha shrunk with fear and terror —
" Say! for whom that bell is tolling?
Ah! indeed it tolls for Hermann. " —
" Hermann in his room is resting,
Suffering from a bitter head-ache —
'Tis some little child departed —
'Tis some little swaddled infant. "
Dortha, from the table rising,
Took a knife from 'midst her tresses,
And she plunged it in her bosom.
She is with her Hermann buried;
In one grave they lie together.
If thou pass thro' yonder church-yard,
Breathe a gentle prayer of pity —
There sleeps Hermann near his Dortha,
As a brother near his sister.