Chapter XIII

Growing weaker, breathing harder,
Soon I'll feel Death's shadow o'er me:
Make my grave there in the store-house,
In my former field of glory.

Valiantly all round me slaying
Fought I like a raging lion:
In his armour clad then bury
Of his race the last brave scion.

Yes the last, because the offspring
Win their parents equal never!
They are good but wooden people,
Not so witty nor as clever.

Wooden are they, thinking solely
Of the moment, hollow hearted;
Only few still hold as sacred
The bequests of the departed.

But sometime, when years have passed by,
In my grave I've long been sleeping,
Then will come the angry cat's howl
Nightly down upon you sweeping.

Hiddigeigei's solemn warning
Will you from your slumber waken:
Ever fear the coils of dulness!
Save yourselves, ye God-forsaken!

SONGS OF THE SILENT MAN.

FROM THE CAVE OF THE GNOMES.

I.

Quiet heart! O ponder lonely,
Valiant, by no fears assailed;
Only in calm meditation
Lofty secrets are unveiled.

While the storms of life are raging,
While mean souls for trifles fight.
Thou on wings of song art soaring
O'er the mob in purer light.

Leave the dusty road to others,
And thy soul unsullied keep,
A clear mirror, like the ocean,
Where the sun has sunk to sleep.

O'er the world's loud bustle rising,
Soars the eagle lone on high;
Cranes and storks, they flock together,
But close to the earth do fly.

Quiet heart! O ponder lonely,
Valiant, by no fears assailed;
Only in calm meditation
Lofty secrets are unveiled.

II.

Leave all commonplace forever,
Digging deeply, upward soaring;
For rich Nibelungen-treasures
Lie all ready for exploring.

From the mountains we see shining
Distant seas and shores of beauty;
While beneath we hear the booming
Of the gnomes hard at their duty.

Manna-like is spread around us
Spiritual food abundant;
And before our vision rises
The old truth with light redundant--

As coarse threads and fine together
In _one_ net are intertwisting,
So the same laws are forever
For the small and great existing.

But a point comes,--sad confession?--
Where to pause, our thoughts restraining;
At the limit of perception
Is mysterious silence reigning.