SPRING MORNING IN ITALY. The sun is up, and 'tis a morn of May, Round old Ravenna's clear-shown towers and bay ; Of bubbling springs about the grassy soil; And all the scene, in short-sky, earth, and sea— "Tis nature full of spirits, waked and springing; And the far ships, lifting their sails of white, Of expectation and a bustling crowd; LEIGH HUNT. UP, AMARYLLIS! SWEDISH. Waken, thou fair one! up, Amaryllis ! Cool is the gale : The rainbows of heaven, With its hues seven, To wood and dale. Sweet Amaryllis, let me convey thee; Come out a-fishing; nets forth are carrying; Hasten with me. Jerkin and vail in Come for the sailing, For trout and grayling: Baits will lay we. Awake, Amaryllis! dearest, awaken; Let me not go forth by thee forsaken; Our course among dolphins and sirens taken, Bring rod and line-bring nets for the landing ; Morn is expanding, Hasten away! Sweet! no denying, Frowning, or sighing Could'st thou be trying To answer me nay? Hence, on the shallows, our little boat leaving, Or to the Sound where green waves are heaving, Where our true love its first bond was weaving, Causing to Thirsis so much dismay. Step in the boat, then! both of us singing, Love afresh springing, O'er us shall reign. If the storm rages, If it war wages, Calm 'mid the billows' wildest commotion, I would defy on thy bosom the ocean, Or would attend thee to death with devotion: Translation of MRS. HowITT. CARL MICHAEL BELLMANN, 1740-1795. THE MORNING WALK. FROM THE DANISH. To the beech-grove, with so sweet an air, O Earth! that never the plowshare In their dark shelter the flowerets grew, And smiled, at my feet, on the cloudless blue * O lovely field, and forest fair, Her bride-bed Freya everywhere The corn-flowers rose in azure bond From earthly cell; Naught else could I do but stop, and stand, "Welcome on earth's green breast again, In Spring how charming, 'mid the grain, Like stars 'midst lightning's yellow ray O how your Summer aspect gay "O poet, poet, silence keep, Our owner holds us sadly cheap, Each time he sees he calls us scum, Hell-weeds, that but to vex him come "O wretched mortals! O wretched man: No pleasures ye pluck, no pleasures ye plan, Whose eyes are blind to the glories great And dream that the mouth is the nearest gate "Come, flowers! for we to each other belong, And around my lute in sympathy strong And quake as if moved by zephyr's wing, And a morning song with glee we'll sing Anonymous Translation. ADAM GOTTLOB OCHLENSHLAGER, 1779. DANISH MORNING SONG. From eastern quarters now The sun's up wandering; And hill-side squandering. Be glad, my soul! and sing amid thy pleasure; Up with thy thanks, and burst To heaven's azure. O, countless as the grains Of sand so tiny- Deep waters briny; God's mercy is which he upon me showeth ! A grace immeasurable To me down-poureth. Thou best does understand, And placed is in thy hand, And thou foreseest what is for me most fitting; To manage in the whole, May fruit the land array, And even for eating! May truth e'er make its way, Give Thou to me my share with every other, And from this world away Wend to another! Translation of H. W. LONGFELLOW. THOMAS KINGO, 1634-1723. SUMMER MORNING SONG. FROM THE DUTCH. Up, sleeper! dreamer, up! for now There's light on forests, lakes, and meadows; The dew-drops shine on floweret bells; The village clock of morning tells. Up! out! o'er furrow and o'er field! For morning's bliss and time is fleeter Up! to the fields! through shine and stour! So blest as this-the glad heart leaping, The winter, time for sleeping. O fool! to sleep such hours away, Or down through summer morning soaring! |