We believe implicitly in the poet's almost inexpressible grief, and because we are convinced, we sympathize. And we feel too that the poet's sorrow is so overwhelming and has so filled his soul that it has entirely changed his views of life and of nature, or has at least contributed materially to such a change,—that it has assumed larger proportions and may rightly be called Weltschmerz. Compare with this the first and third stanzas of Heine's "Der arme Peter:"
Der Hans und die Grete tanzen herum,
Und jauchzen vor lauter Freude.
Der Peter steht so still und stumm,
Und ist so blass wie Kreide.
Der Peter spricht leise vor sich her
Und schauet betrübet auf beide:
"Ach! wenn ich nicht zu vernünftig wär',
Ich thät' mir was zu leide."[201]
It is scarcely necessary to cite further examples of this mannerism of Heine's, for so it early became, such as his "Erbsensuppe,"[202] "Ich wollte, er schösse mich tot,"[203] "Doktor, sind Sie des Teufels;"[204] "Madame, ich liebe Sie!"[205] and many other glaring instances of the "Sturzbad," in order to show how the poet himself deliberately attempted, and usually with success, to destroy the traces of his grief. This process of self-irony, which plays such havoc with all sincere feeling and therefore with his Weltschmerz, becomes so fixed a habit that we are almost incapable, finally, of taking the poet seriously. He makes a significant confession in this regard in a letter to Moser (1823): "Aber es geht mir oft so, ich kann meine eigenen Schmerzen nicht erzählen, ohne dass die Sache komisch wird."[206] How thoroughly this mental attitude had become second nature with Heine, may be inferred from a statement which he makes to Friederike Roberts (1825): "Das Ungeheuerste, das Ensetzlichste, das Schaudervollste, wenn es nicht unpoetisch werden soll, kann man auch nur in dem buntscheckigen Gewände des Lächerlichen darstellen, gleichsam versöhnend—darum hat auch Shakespeare das Grässlichste im "Lear" durch den Narren sagen lassen, darum hat auch Goethe zu dem furchtbarsten Stoffe, zum "Faust," die Puppenspielform gewählt, darum hat auch der noch grössere Poet (der Urpoet, sagt Friederike), nämlich Unser-Herrgott, allen Schreckensszenen dieses Lebens eine gute Dosis Spasshaftigkeit beigemischt."[207]
In not a few of his lyrics Heine gives us a truly Lenauesque nature-setting, as for instance in "Der scheidende Sommer:"
Das gelbe Laub erzittert,
Es fallen die Blätter herab;
Ach, alles, was hold und lieblich
Verwelkt und sinkt ins Grab.[208]
This is one of the comparatively few instances in Heine's lyrics in which he maintains a dignified seriousness throughout the entire poem. It is worth noting, too, because it touches a note as infrequent in Heine as it is persistent in Lenau—the fleeting nature of all things lovely and desirable.[209] This is one of the characteristic differences between the two poets,—Heine's eye is on the present and the future, much more than on the past; Lenau is ever mourning the happiness that is past and gone. Logically then, thoughts of and yearnings for death are much more frequent with Lenau than with Heine.[210]
Reverting to the point under consideration: even in those love-lyrics in which Heine does not wilfully destroy the first serious impression by the jingling of his harlequin's cap, as he himself styles it,[211] he does not succeed,—with the few exceptions just referred to,—in convincing us very deeply of the reality of his feelings. They are either trivially or extravagantly stated. Sometimes this sense of triviality is caused by the poet's excessive fondness for all sorts of diminutive expressions, giving an artificial effect, an effect of "Tändelei" to his verses. For example:
Du siehst mich an wehmütiglich,
Und schüttelst das blonde Köpfchen,
Aus deinen Augen schleichen sich
Die Perlenthränentröpfchen.[212]