But she rejoin’d: “Thou must swear to me
“As by Father Abraham’s order
“His servant Eliezer swore,
“When starting to cross the border.
“Lift up my dress and place thy hand
“Upon my thigh below it,
“And swear that in speaking, the secret thou’lt keep,
“And in thy works as a poet!”
The moment was solemn. I felt as though fann’d
By the breath of ages long perish’d,
When I swore the oath in the manner ordain’d
By Abraham, our forefather cherish’d.
I lifted up the goddess’s dress,
And placed on her thigh below it
My hand, vowing secrecy both in my words
And in my works as a poet.
CAPUT XXVI.
The cheeks of the goddess glow’d all-red
(I think that the rum had ascended
Up into her head) and she spoke in a tone
In which sorrow was painfully blended:
“I’m fast getting old; I was born on the day
“Of Hamburg’s first foundation;
“My mother was a mermaid, who had
“At the mouth of the Elbe her station.
“My father was a monarch renown’d,
“Called Charlemagne the glorious;
“He was still more wise than Frederick the Great,
“And also still more victorious.
“At Aix-la-Chapelle is the seat where he sat
“On the day of his coronation:
“The seat where he sat at night devolved
“On my mother, as nearest relation.