Hail to thee, youthful queen!
From the sun on high
Tear I his sparkling ruddy gold,
And of it weave a diadem
For thine anointed head.
From the fluttering blue-silken heaven’s veil,
Wherein night’s diamonds are gleaming,
Cut I a costly piece,
And hang, as coronation mantle,
Upon thy regal shoulders.
I give to thee, as courtiers,
Some well-bedizen’d sonnets,
Haughty terzinas and courtly stanzas;
My wit shall serve thee as footman,
And as court-fool my phantasy,
As herald, the laughing tears on my scutcheon,
My humour shall serve thee.
But I, O my queen,
Before thee kneel down,
In homage, on red velvet cushion,
And to thee hand over
The small bit of reason,
Which, out of compassion, was left me
By her who last govern’d thy kingdom.
6. DECLARATION.
Onward glimmering came the evening,
Wilder tossèd the flood,
And I sat on the strand, regarding
The snowy dance of the billows,
And soon my bosom swell’d like the sea;
A deep home-sickness yearningly seized me
For thee, thou darling form,
Who everywhere surround’st me,
And everywhere call’st me,
Everywhere, everywhere,
In the moan of the wind, in the roar of the ocean,
In the sigh within my own breast.
With brittle reed I wrote on the sand:
“Agnes, I love thee!”
But wicked billows soon pour’d themselves
Over the blissful confession,
Effacing it all.
Ah too fragile reed, all fast-scatter’d sand,
Ah fugitive billows, I’ll trust you no more!
The heavens grow darker, my heart grows wilder
And with vigorous hand from the forests of Norway
Tear I the highest fir-tree,
And plunge it deep
In Etna’s glowing abyss, and thereafter
With fire-imbued giant-pen
I write on the dark veil of heaven:
“Agnes, I love thee!”
Every night gleams thenceforward
On high that eternal fiery writing,
And all generations of farthest descendants
Read gladly the heavenly sentence:
“Agnes, I love thee!”
7. IN THE CABIN AT NIGHT.
The sea its pearls possesseth,
And heaven its stars containeth,
But, O my heart, my heart,
My heart its love hath also.
Vast is the sea and the heavens,
Yet vaster is my heart,
And fairer than pearls or the stars
Glitt’reth and beameth my love.
Thou little youthful maiden,
Come to my heart so vast;
My heart and the sea and the heavens
For very love are dying.
* * *
’Gainst the azure veil of heaven,
Where the beauteous stars are twinkling,
Fain I’d press my lips with ardour,
Press them wildly, madly weeping.