Till a youth, with an aspect unfearing but gentle,
'Mid the tremulous squires, stept out from the ring,
Unbuckling his girdle, and doffing his mantle;
[Illustration: THE DIVER.
"Hark! a shriek from the crowd rang aloft from the shore,
And behold: he is whirled in the grasp of the main."
--SCHILLER.
_From a photogravure after drawing by A. Michaelis._]
And the murmuring crowd, as they parted asunder,
On the stately boy cast their looks of wonder.
As he strode to the marge of the summit, and gave
One glance on the gulf of that merciless main;
Lo! the wave that for ever devours the wave,
Casts roaringly up the charybdis again;
And, as with the swell of the far thunder-boom,
Rushes foamingly forth from the heart of the gloom.
And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and roars,
As when fire is with water commixed and contending;
And the spray of its wrath to the welkin up-soars,
And flood upon flood hurries on, never ending.
And it never will rest, nor from travail be free,
Like a sea that is laboring the birth of a sea.
And at last there lay open the desolate realm!
Through the breakers that whitened the waste of the swell,
Dark--dark yawned a cleft in the midst of the whelm,
The path to the heart of that fathomless hell.
Round and round whirled the waves--deep and deeper still driven,
Like a gorge thro' the mountainous main thunder-riven.
The youth gave his trust to his Maker! Before
That path through the riven abyss closed again--
Hark! a shriek from the crowd rang aloft from the shore,
And, behold! he is whirled in the grasp of the main!
And o'er him the breakers mysteriously rolled,
And the giant-mouth closed on the swimmer so bold.
O'er the surface grim silence lay dark and profound,
But the deep from below murmured hollow and fell;
And the crowd, as it shuddered, lamented aloud--
"Gallant youth--noble heart--fare-thee-well, fare-thee-well!"
And still ever deepening that wail as of woe,
More hollow the gulf sent its howl from below.
If thou should'st in those waters thy diadem fling,
And cry, "Who may find it shall win it, and wear;"
God's wot, though the prize were the crown of a king--
A crown at such hazard were valued too dear.
For never did lips of the living reveal,
What the deeps that howl yonder in terror conceal.
Oh many a ship, to that breast grappled fast,
Has gone down to the fearful and fathomless grave;
Again crashed together, the keel and the mast,
To be seen, tossed aloft in the glee of the wave.--
Like the growth of a storm ever louder and clearer,
Grows the roar of the gulf rising nearer and nearer.
And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and roars,
As when fire is with water commixed and contending;
And the spray of its wrath to the welkin up-soars,
And flood upon flood hurries on, never ending,
And, as with the swell of the far thunder-boom,
Rushes roaringly forth from the heart of the gloom.
And lo! from the heart of that far-floating gloom,
What gleams on the darkness so swanlike and white?
Lo! an arm and a neck, glancing up from the tomb!--
They battle--the Man with the Element's might.
It is he--it is he!--In his left hand behold,
As a sign--as a joy! shines the goblet of gold!
And he breathèd deep, and he breathèd long,
And he greeted the heavenly delight of the day.
They gaze on each other--they shout as they throng--
"He lives--lo, the ocean has rendered its prey!
And out of the grave where the Hell began,
His valor has rescued the living man!"
And he comes with the crowd in their clamor and glee,
And the goblet his daring has won from the water,
He lifts to the king as he sinks on his knee;
And the king from her maidens has beckoned his daughter,
And he bade her the wine to his cup-bearer bring,
And thus spake the Diver--"Long life to the king!
"Happy they whom the rose-hues of daylight rejoice,
The air and the sky that to mortals are given!
May the horror below never more find a voice--
Nor Man stretch too far the wide mercy of Heaven!
Never more--never more may he lift from the mirror,
The Veil which is woven with Night and with Terror!
"Quick-brightening like lightning--it tore me along,
Down, down, till the gush of a torrent at play
In the rocks of its wilderness caught me--and strong
As the wings of an eagle, it whirled me away.
Vain, vain were my struggles--the circle had won me,
Round and round in its dance the wild element spun me.
"And I called on my God, and my God heard my prayer,
In the strength of my need, in the gasp of my breath--
And showed me a crag that rose up from the lair,
And I clung to it, trembling--and baffled the death.
And, safe in the perils around me, behold
On the spikes of the coral the goblet of gold!
"Below, at the foot of that precipice drear,
Spread the gloomy, and purple, and pathless obscure!
A silence of horror that slept on the ear,
That the eye more appalled might the horror endure!
Salamander--snake--dragon--vast reptiles that dwell
In the deep--coiled about the grim jaws of their hell!
"Dark-crawled--glided dark the unspeakable swarms,
Like masses unshapen, made life hideously;
Here clung and here bristled the fashionless forms,
Here the Hammer-fish darkened the dark of the sea,
And with teeth grinning white, and a menacing motion,
Went the terrible Shark--the hyena of Ocean.
"There I hung, and the awe gathered icily o'er me,
So far from the earth where man's help there was none!
The one Human Thing, with the Goblins before me--
Alone--in a loneness so ghastly--ALONE!
Fathom-deep from man's eye in the speechless profound,
With the death of the main and the monsters around.
"Methought, as I gazed through the darkness, that now
A hundred-limbed creature caught sight of its prey,
And darted.--O God! from the far-flaming bough
Of the coral, I swept on the horrible way;
And it seized me, the wave with its wrath and its roar,
It seized me to save--King, the danger is o'er!"
On the youth gazed the monarch, and marvelled--quoth he,
"Bold Diver, the goblet I promised is thine,
And this ring will I give, a fresh guerdon to thee,
Never jewels more precious shone up from the mine;
If thou'll bring me fresh tidings, and venture again,
To say what lies hid in the _innermost_ main!"
Then outspake the daughter in tender emotion,
"Ah! father, my father, what more can there rest?
Enough of this sport with the pitiless ocean--
He has served thee as none would, thyself hast confest.
If nothing can slake thy wild thirst of desire,
Be your knights not, at least, put to shame by the squire!"
The king seized the goblet--he swung it on high,
And whirling, it fell in the roar of the tide;
"But bring back that goblet again to my eye,
And I'll hold thee the dearest that rides by my side,
And thine arms shall embrace as thy bride, I decree,
The maiden whose pity now pleadeth for thee."
In his heart, as he listened, there leapt the wild joy--
And the hope and the love through his eyes spoke in fire,
On that bloom, on that blush, gazed, delighted, the boy;
The maiden she faints at the feet of her sire!
Here the guerdon divine; there the danger beneath;
He resolves!--To the strife with the life and the death!
They hear the loud surges sweep back in their swell;
Their coming the thunder-sound heralds along!
Fond eyes yet are tracking the spot where he fell--
They come, the wild waters, in tumult and throng,
Rearing up to the cliff--roaring back as before;
But no wave ever brought the lost youth to the shore.
From the German of JOHANN C. F. SCHILLER.
GOD'S JUDGMENT ON A WICKED BISHOP.
[Hatto, Archbishop of Mentz, in the year 914, barbarously
murdered a number of poor people to prevent their consuming
a portion of the food during that year of famine. He was
afterwards devoured by rats in his tower on an island in the
Rhine.--OLD LEGEND.]
The summer and autumn had been so wet,
That in winter the corn was growing yet:
'Twas a piteous sight to see all around
The grain lie rotting on the ground.
Every day the starving poor
Crowded around Bishop Hatto's door;
For he had a plentiful last-year's store,
And all the neighborhood could tell
His granaries were furnished well.
At last Bishop Hatto appointed a day
To quiet the poor without delay;
He bade them to his great barn repair,
And they should have food for the winter there.
Rejoiced the tidings good to hear,
The poor folks flocked from far and near;
The great barn was full as it could hold
Of women and children, and young and old.
Then, when he saw it could hold no more,
Bishop Hatto he made fast the door;
And whilst for mercy on Christ they call,
He set fire to the barn, and burnt them all.
"I' faith, 'tis an excellent bonfire!" quoth he;
"And the country is greatly obliged to me
For ridding it, in these times forlorn,
Of rats that only consume the corn."
So then to his palace returned he,
And he sate down to supper merrily,
And he slept that night like an innocent man;
But Bishop Hatto never slept again.
In the morning, as he entered the hall,
Where his picture hung against the wall,
A sweat like death all over him came,
For the rats had eaten it out of the frame.
As he looked, there came a man from his farm--
He had a countenance white with alarm:
"My lord, I opened your granaries this morn,
And the rats had eaten all your corn."
Another came running presently,
And he was pale as pale could be.
"Fly! my lord bishop, fly!" quoth he,
"Ten thousand rats are coming this way,--
The Lord forgive you for yesterday!"
"I'll go to my tower in the Rhine," replied he;
"'T is the safest place in Germany,--
The walls are high, and the shores are steep,
And the tide is strong, and the water deep."
Bishop Hatto fearfully hastened away;
And he crossed the Rhine without delay,
And reached his tower, and barred with care
All the windows, doors, and loop-holes there.
He laid him down and closed his eyes,
But soon a scream made him arise;
He started, and saw two eyes of flame
On his pillow, from whence the screaming came.
He listened and looked,--it was only the cat;
But the bishop he grew more fearful for that,
For she sate screaming, mad with fear,
At the army of rats that were drawing near.
For they have swum over the river so deep,
And they have climbed the shores so steep,
And now by thousands up they crawl
To the holes and the windows in the wall.
Down on his knees the bishop fell,
And faster and faster his beads did he tell,
As louder and louder, drawing near,
The saw of their teeth without he could hear.
And in at the windows, and in at the door,
And through the walls, by thousands they pour;
And down from the ceiling and up through the floor,
From the right and the left, from behind and before,
From within and without, from above and below,--
And all at once to the bishop they go.
They have whetted their teeth against the stones,
And now they pick the bishop's bones;
They gnawed the flesh from every limb,
For they were sent to do judgment on him!
ROBERT SOUTHEY.
COUNTESS LAURA.