Poems; original and translated by Charles Rann Kennedy ... and Two Poems by the Rev. Rann Kennedy. New Edition. By Charles Rann Kennedy |
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THE MAID OF LUCERNE. |
 | Poems; original and translated |  |
THE MAID OF LUCERNE.
The birds had couch'd them in the brake,
The deer upon the fern:
There stood beside the glassy lake
A maiden of Lucerne.
The deer upon the fern:
There stood beside the glassy lake
A maiden of Lucerne.
Her brow was lily-pale; her eye
Was like the wave, clear blue,
Soft as the ray a moonlit sky
Upon the water threw.
Was like the wave, clear blue,
Soft as the ray a moonlit sky
Upon the water threw.
36
She gazed upon the mirror-deep:
“Oh, all is sad to me;”
She said—“I cannot choose but weep,
Whene'er this spot I see.
“Oh, all is sad to me;”
She said—“I cannot choose but weep,
Whene'er this spot I see.
Here last did we together speak
Under the linden bough:
The tears were falling down my cheek,
As they are falling now.
Under the linden bough:
The tears were falling down my cheek,
As they are falling now.
Wilhelm was standing by my side,
My gallant mountaineer:
And gently he my fears did chide,
And kiss'd away the tear.
My gallant mountaineer:
And gently he my fears did chide,
And kiss'd away the tear.
A scarlet cloak and helm he wore,
His long white plume it waved;
His broad sword-hilt he grasp'd and swore
Danger and death he braved:
His long white plume it waved;
His broad sword-hilt he grasp'd and swore
Danger and death he braved:
He said he braved it all for me,
That he would rich return,
And happy then our days should be
In his own dear Lucerne.
That he would rich return,
And happy then our days should be
In his own dear Lucerne.
But I with him had been content
In poverty to bide;
For surely riches ne'er were meant
Fond lovers to divide.
In poverty to bide;
For surely riches ne'er were meant
Fond lovers to divide.
37
Oh, what have we to do with war?
Why should the Switzer roam?
The mountain heights our castles are,
The pleasant vale our home;
Why should the Switzer roam?
The mountain heights our castles are,
The pleasant vale our home;
The herd-boy milks his kine at eve,
And sings his country song;
He hath no care his heart to grieve;
Merry he trips along:
And sings his country song;
He hath no care his heart to grieve;
Merry he trips along:
Each village youth in festal guise
On holidays is seen,
Contending for the rustic prize,
Or dancing on the green;
On holidays is seen,
Contending for the rustic prize,
Or dancing on the green;
There bounds he lightly as the roe,
And clasps his maiden dear,
And sweetly smiles, and whispers low
What she is pleased to hear:
And clasps his maiden dear,
And sweetly smiles, and whispers low
What she is pleased to hear:
And thus Wilhelm would clasp me oft
And look'd so fond and true,
And whisper'd words so warm and soft
That to my heart he grew.
And look'd so fond and true,
And whisper'd words so warm and soft
That to my heart he grew.
Then sparkling flew the moments by,
Each swifter than the last:
But now I only weep and sigh
To think upon the past.
Each swifter than the last:
But now I only weep and sigh
To think upon the past.
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And he hath been long time away,
And I have hoped in vain:
Though day and night I wish and pray,
He cometh not again.
And I have hoped in vain:
Though day and night I wish and pray,
He cometh not again.
Had I but spoken all I felt,
He ne'er had left me so;
I should have wept and pray'd and knelt,
Or e'er I let him go.
He ne'er had left me so;
I should have wept and pray'd and knelt,
Or e'er I let him go.
So many vows he then did swear,
And I did all believe:
Oh, why should maids to men give ear,
Or men fond maids deceive?
And I did all believe:
Oh, why should maids to men give ear,
Or men fond maids deceive?
Ah me! I can believe no more:
He never will return:
And vainly I my grief deplore
Upon thy banks, Lucerne.”
He never will return:
And vainly I my grief deplore
Upon thy banks, Lucerne.”
| Poems; original and translated | |