Yes, these his princely trust,
Late yielded to his power,
He now desert them must,
Or share their evil hour.
Faith, duty to his prince,
Is still his watchword here;
He still thinks of him, since
His last sad look and tear.
So boldly doth he now
Advance his foot and stand,
Arm'd proof to overthrow
The evil powers at hand.
The wild musician comes;
Eckart his sword has ta'en;
But ah! those magic tunes
His mortal strength enchain!
From out the mountain's side
Come thousand dwarfish shapes,
That threaten and deride,
And leap and grin like apes.
The princes fair are gone,
And mingled with the swarm;
True Eckart is alone,
And faint his valiant arm.
The rout of revellers grows,
Gathering from east to west,
And gives him no repose—
Around—before—abreast.
True Eckart's 'mid the din,
His might is lost and gone;
The hellish powers must win—
He of their slaves be one.
For now they reach the hill
Whence those wild notes are heard;
The dwarfish fiends stand still,
The hills their sides uprear'd,
And made a mighty void,
Whence fiercer sprites glower'd grim.
"What now will us betide?"
He cried:—none answered him.