Reminiscence

IV. 96.

When noisy day to mortals quiet grows,

And upon the city's silent walls

Night's shadow half-transparent lies,

And Sleep, of daily toils reward,--

Then for me are dragging in the silence

Of wearying wakefulness the hours.

In the sloth of night more scorching burn

My heart's serpents' gnawing fangs;

Boil my thoughts; my soul with grief oppressed

Full of reveries sad is thronged.

Before me memory in silence

Its lengthy roll unfolds.

And with disgust my life I reading

Tremble I and curse it.

Bitterly I moan, and bitterly my tears I shed,

But wash away the lines of grief I cannot.

In laziness, in senseless feasts

In the craziness of ruinous license,

In thraldom, poverty, and homeless deserts

My wasted years there I behold.

Of friends again I hear the treacherous greeting

Games amid of love and wine.

To the heart again insults brings

Irrepressible the cold world.

No joy for me,--and calmly before me

Of visions young two now rise:

Two tender shades, two angels me

Given by fate in the days of yore.

But both have wings and flaming swords,

And they watch--... and both are vengeant,

And both to me speak with death tongue

Of Eternity's mysteries, and of the grave.

1828.

ELEGY.

IV. 85.

My wishes I have survived,

My ambition I have outgrown!

Left only is my smart,

The fruit of emptiness of heart.

Under the storm of cruel Fate

Faded has my blooming crown!

Sad I live and lonely,

And wait: Is nigh my end?

Thus touched by the belated frost,

When storm's wintry whistle is heard,

On the branch bare and lone

Trembles the belated leaf.

1821.

RESURRECTION.

IV. 116.

With sleepy brush the barbarian artist

The master's painting blackens;

And thoughtlessly his wicked drawing

Over it he is daubing.

But in years the foreign colors

Peal off, an aged layer:

The work of genius is 'gain before us,

With former beauty out it comes.

Thus my failings vanish too

From my wearied soul,

And again within it visions rise,

Of my early purer days.

1819