AFTER HEINE.
Let your feet not falter, your course not alter
By golden apples, till victory's won!
The sword's sharp clangour, the dart's shrill anger,
Swerve not the hero thundering on.
A bold beginning is half the winning,
An Alexander makes worlds his fee.
No long debating! The Queens are waiting
In his pavilion on beaded knee.
Thus swift pursuing his wars and wooing,
He mounts old Darius' bed and throne.
O glorious ruin! O blithe undoing!
O drunk death-triumph in Babylon!
THE GOLDEN CALF.
AFTER HEINE.
Double flutes and horns resound
As they dance the idol round;
Jacob's daughters, madly reeling,
Whirl about the golden calf.
Hear them laugh!
Kettledrums and laughter pealing.
Dresses tucked above their knees,
Maids of noblest families,
In the swift dance blindly wheeling,
Circle in their wild career
Round the steer,—
Kettledrums and laughter pealing.
Aaron's self, the guardian grey
Of the faith, at last gives way,
Madness all his senses stealing;
Prances in his high priest's coat
Like a goat,—
Kettledrums and laughter pealing.
THE AZRA.
AFTER HEINE.
Daily walked the fair and lovely
Sultan's daughter in the twilight,—
In the twilight by the fountain,
Where the sparkling waters plash.
Daily stood the young slave silent
In the twilight by the fountain,
Where the plashing waters sparkle,
Pale and paler every day.
Once by twilight came the princess
Up to him with rapid questions:
"I would know thy name, thy nation,
Whence thou comest, who thou art."
And the young slave said, "My name is
Mahomet, I come from Yemmen.
I am of the sons of Azra,
Men who perish if they love."