"When midnight's past your dead entomb,
With dirge and knell forth speeding;
But now I bear my young wife home.
Come with' me to the wedding!
"Come, sexton, with, thy quire away
And croak for me a wedding lay.
Come, priest, and give thy blessing
Ere we our couch are pressing.

Cease dirge and knell -
Obedient to his calling

the bier is gone!

Swift, swift the train comes, closely on
Behind his horse-hoofs falling;

And faster faster, skirr, skirr, skirr!
Away at whirlwind speed they spur.
Pant horse and rider dashing
Mid sparks and pebbles flashing.

How fast on right, how fast on left
Hill, dale and woodland speeded!
How fast on left and right and left
Town tower and tree receded!
Dost fear my love? the moon shines bright.
Hurrah, the dead, ride well to-night!

Dost fear the dead, my dearest ?"
Ah name them not my dearest.

See there! upon the gibbet's height,
The wheel of death surrounding,
Half visible by pale moonlight
An airy rabble bounding.
"Hollo ye rabble! hither flee!
Ye rabble, come and follow me!
Ye must the dance be leading
When we to bed are speeding."

And straight the rabble, swoof, swoof, swoof,
Came close behing him bustling,

As whirlwinds round the hazel bush

Sweep through the dry leaves rustling;

And ever faster skirr, skirr, skirr!
Away at torrent speed they spur.
Pant horse and rider, dashing
Mid sparks and pebbles flashing.

How flies whate'er the moon o'ershone!
How fast 'tis backward driven!
How all above has backward flown,
The stars and the blue heaven!

"Dost fear, my love? the moon shines bright.
Hurra! The dead ride well to night.
Dost fear the dead, my dearest?"
"Why wilt thou name them, dearest?"

"Barb, barb, methinks the cock doth crow; The sand is nigh expended.

Barb, barb, I feel the morn air blow.
Barb, here our course is ended.
Right well, right well, our ride has sped
All ready stands the bridal bed.
The dead are good at riding!
Here, here's our home abiding."

Up to an iron grated door

At headlong speed he rushes;
One stroke with slender rod, no more,
Padlock and bolt back pushes.
The jarring gates fly open wide
And over graves they onward ride,
All round in moonlight beaming
The grave stars white were gleaming.

And lo! with startling suddenness,
Ah me, a grousome wonder!
The rider's garments peice by peice,
Fall mouldering asunder.

His head becomes a skull all bare
Of hair or flesh, his body fair

A skeleton unfolding

The scythe and hour glass holding.

High rears the steed, snorts fearfully,
The sparks around him darting,
And sinks beneath her suddenly,

Swift through the earth departing.

And howls on howls through high air sound, And moonings deep from under ground. Leonora's heart is rending,

"Twixt life and death contending.

Now swiftly sport by moonlight's glance
A band of phantoms scowling,
All round about in curling dance

These words in concert howling,
"Be patient! If thy heart must break
Blame not what God in heaven spake.
this hour must end it.

Thy life
Thy soul

SCHILLER'S DIVISION OF THE

EARTH.

Literally translated.

"TAKE ye the world" spake Jove from high Olympus
To men below, "I give it freely take!
It shall be yours forever to inherit;
Like brothers the division make."

Then hastened all mankind to take possession,
And quickly young and old their claims made good.
The farmer seized the first fruits of the harvest
The squire rode gaily through the wood.

The merchant took what filled his warehouses
The abbo chose the jovial old Rhine wine
The King s up the highways and the bridges
of all is mine."

And said

At length arved, long after the division
The tardy poet; from afar came he.
But everything alas! had now its master.
There was for him no vacancy.

"Ah me! and shall I only of all others
Forgotten ho? What, I, thy truest son!"
he voice of his complaining
wefore Jove's throne.

So poured 1

And flung

"If thou amid the land of dreams didst wander" Replied the God, "then quarel not with me.

Where wast thou pray, when man the world divided?" "I was" exlaimed the bard "with thee.

Mine eye was on thy radiant countenance hanging.
Upon thy heaven's harmony mine ear.
Forgive the spirit which in thee entrancéd

And all forgot the earthly sphere.”

"Alas!" quoth Jove "the world away is given. Field, wood, and town no more belong to me. hilt thou then come and dwell with me in heaven? It shall be ever open unto thee."

THE MAIDEN'S LAMENT.

Literally translated from Schiller.

THE oak-wood murmurs,

The clouds swam high,

The maiden sitteth

The green shore by;

The billows are breaking in might, in might,
And she sigheth out to the darksome night,
Her fair eye the gushing tear staineth.

"The heart is perished,

The world is waste,

And gives nought longer

Of joy to taste.

Thou Holy One, summon thy child back to thee!
Enough of this world and its fortune for me.

I have lived and have loved what remaineth?"

"Thy tears that are flowing

All fruitlessly pour

Thy weeping can waken

The dead never more.

Then seek for what comforts and sooths the sad heart
When the pleasures of Love like a vision depart.
I, the Holy one will not deny thee."

"Then let my tears flowing

All fruitlessly pour, Let weeping not waken

The dead ever more!

The sweetest relief for the sorrowing heart
When Love's fairy joys like a vision depart
It's tears and laments will supply me."
New Haven, 1840.

ANCEUS.

FROM THE GERMAN.

"ANCEUS reigned in Ionia. **** He was told by one of his servants, whom he pressed with hard labor in his vineyard, that he would never taste the produce of his vines. He had already the cup in hand, and called the prophet to convince him of his falsehood, when the slave, yet firm in his conviction, uttered the well-known proverb

'Multa cadunt inter calicem supremaque labra.'
"Twixt cup and lip there's many a slip.'

And at that very moment Ancæus was told that a wild boar had entered his vineyard; upon which the threw down the cup and hastened to drive away the wild beast. He perished in the attempt."

THE Monarch of Samos (Ancæus his name),
His vineyard with pleasure surveyed
His vines he was carefully planting; up came
An old slave and solemnly said.

"Oh stay, King Ancæus, thy sedulous hand! Hie home to thy palace and rest!

The juice of the vineyard which now thou hast planned Shall ne'er for thy goblet be pressed!"