The Two Brothers, and other poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Horror-boding, wild and ruddy,
Looms the morning, strange as night,
And the sunbeams, cold and bloody,
Track our bloody path with light:
In the coming hour's bosom
Clasp'd the fates of nations lie,
And the lot already trembles,
And there falls the iron die!
There's a claim on thee, brother, of holiest power,
And a pledge to redeem in this dawning hour;
True in life, true in death, when life has pass'd by.

145

II

In the gloom of night behind us
Lie the haunts our foemen spoke,
And the wrecks that still remind us
Strangers cleft Germania's oak:
Spurn'd is the tongue we lisp'd in childhood,
Ruin'd lie our shrines and low,
But our faith is pledged, brethren,
Haste—redeem that pledge of woe.
There are flames in our land,—up, brethren! and slay,
That the vengeance of Heaven may turn away—
The Palladium lost redeem from the foe.

III

Blissful visions lie before us,—
Lie the future's golden years,—
Stretch blue heavens their curtains o'er us,
Freedom smiles amid her tears;
German art and German music,
Beauty, love's entrancing chain,—
All that's noble, all that's lovely,
Float in prospect back again.

146

But a death-bearing venture is yet to be pass'd,
On the chance must our life and our life-blood be cast,
And Joy only blooms o'er the victim slain.

IV

Death—now with our God we'll dare it,
Hand in hand our fate defy,
And our frail heart, sternly bear it
To the altar, there to die.
Fatherland! at thy great bidding
Here we yield our life for thee,
That our loved ones may inherit
What our blood bequeaths them free.
May thy free oaks, my fatherland, proudly wave
O'er thy children's corse and their silent grave,
And hear thou the oath, and the covenant see.

V

Give ye yet one blessed token
Of a glance towards beauty's bowers,
Though the poisonous South hath broken
All the bliss of spring-tide flowers;

147

Let your eyes be dim with teardrops,
Teardrops cannot bring you shame;
Throw ye one last kiss towards them,
Then to God breathe low their name.
The lips that pray for us at night and at morn,
The hearts that have loved us, the hearts we have torn,
For them, O our Father, Thy solace we claim.

VI

On! now to the battle gory!
Eye and heart towards yonder light!
Earth is done with, and heaven's glory
Rises dimly, grandly bright.
Cheer ye, German brethren! cheer ye,—
Every nerve in conflict swell;
True hearts shall be reunited,
Only for this world farewell.
Hark! the thunders are rolling, the battle is warm,—
On, brethren, on to the lightning storm!
Till we meet in a happier world, farewell.

Watton, 1845.