TRANSLATIONS OF BÜRGER'S LENORE
95
"Our nuptial bed, this night so dark,
So late, five hundred miles to roam?
Yet sounds the bell, which struck, to mark
That in one hour would midnight come."
"See there, see here, the moon shines clear,
We and the dead ride fast away;
I gage, though long our way, and drear,
We reach our nuptial bed to-day."
So late, five hundred miles to roam?
Yet sounds the bell, which struck, to mark
That in one hour would midnight come."
"See there, see here, the moon shines clear,
We and the dead ride fast away;
I gage, though long our way, and drear,
We reach our nuptial bed to-day."
"Say where the bed, and bridal hall?
What guests our blissful union greet?"
Low lies the bed, still, cold, and small;
Six dark boards, and one milk white sheet."
"Hast room for me?" "Room, room enow;
Come mount; strange hands our feast prepare;
To grace the solemn rite, e'en now
No common bridesmen wait us there."
What guests our blissful union greet?"
Low lies the bed, still, cold, and small;
Six dark boards, and one milk white sheet."
"Hast room for me?" "Room, room enow;
Come mount; strange hands our feast prepare;
To grace the solemn rite, e'en now
No common bridesmen wait us there."
Loose was her zone, her breast unveil'd,
All wild her shadowy tresses hung;
O'er fear confiding love prevail'd,
As lightly on the barb she sprung.
Like wind the bounding courser flies,
Earth shakes his thundering hoofs beneath;
Dust, stones, and sparks, in whirlwind rise,
And horse and horseman pant for breath.
All wild her shadowy tresses hung;
O'er fear confiding love prevail'd,
As lightly on the barb she sprung.
Like wind the bounding courser flies,
Earth shakes his thundering hoofs beneath;
Dust, stones, and sparks, in whirlwind rise,
And horse and horseman pant for breath.
How swift, how swift from left and right
The racing fields and hills recede;
Bourns, bridges, rocks, that cross their flight,
In thunders echo to their speed.
"Fear'st thou, my love? the moon shines clear;
Hurrah! how swiftly speed the dead!
The dead does Leonora fear?"
"Ah, no; but talk not of the dead."
The racing fields and hills recede;
Bourns, bridges, rocks, that cross their flight,
In thunders echo to their speed.
"Fear'st thou, my love? the moon shines clear;
Hurrah! how swiftly speed the dead!
The dead does Leonora fear?"
"Ah, no; but talk not of the dead."
What accents slow, of wail and woe,
Have made yon shrieking raven soar?
The death bell beats! the dirge repeats,
"This dust to parent dust restore."
Blackened the night, a funeral train
On a cold bier a coffin brings;
Their slow pace measur'd to a strain
Sad as the saddest nightbird sings.
Have made yon shrieking raven soar?
The death bell beats! the dirge repeats,
"This dust to parent dust restore."
Blackened the night, a funeral train
On a cold bier a coffin brings;
Their slow pace measur'd to a strain
Sad as the saddest nightbird sings.
"This dust to dust restore, what time
The midnight dews o'er graves are shed;
Meanwhile of brides the flower and prime
I carry to our nuptial bed.
The midnight dews o'er graves are shed;
Meanwhile of brides the flower and prime
I carry to our nuptial bed.
