https://sonett.fontane-place.de/ Fri, 03 Jul 2026 06:34:54 +0000 MyBB https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23854 Sun, 27 Jan 2019 06:30:59 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23854


WHAT shall I bring to lay upon thy bier
O Yesterday ! thou day forever dead ?
With what strange garlands shall I crown thy head,
Thou silent One ? For rose and rue are near

Which thou thyself didst bring me ; heart's-ease clear
And dark in purple opulence that shed
Rare odors round worm- wood, and herbs that fed
My soul with bitterness they all are here !

When to the banquet I was called by thee
Thou gavest me rags and royal robes to wear;
Honey and aloes mingled in the cup

Of costly wine that thou didst pour for me ;
Thy throne, thy footstool, thou didst bid me share ;
On crusts and heavenly manna bade me sup !



.]]>


WHAT shall I bring to lay upon thy bier
O Yesterday ! thou day forever dead ?
With what strange garlands shall I crown thy head,
Thou silent One ? For rose and rue are near

Which thou thyself didst bring me ; heart's-ease clear
And dark in purple opulence that shed
Rare odors round worm- wood, and herbs that fed
My soul with bitterness they all are here !

When to the banquet I was called by thee
Thou gavest me rags and royal robes to wear;
Honey and aloes mingled in the cup

Of costly wine that thou didst pour for me ;
Thy throne, thy footstool, thou didst bid me share ;
On crusts and heavenly manna bade me sup !



.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23853 Sun, 27 Jan 2019 06:29:55 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23853
WHAT matters it what men may call Thee, Thou,
The Eternal One, who reign'st supreme, alone,
The boundless universe Thy mighty throne ?
When souls before Thee reverently bow,

Oh, carest Thou what name the lips breathe low
Jove, or Osiris, or the God Unknown
To whom the Athenians raised their altar stone,
Or Thine, O Holiest, unto whom we vow ?

The sun hath many names in many lands;
Yet upon all its golden splendors fall,
Where'er, from age to age entreating still,

The adoring earth uplifts its waiting hands.
Love knows all names and answereth to all
Who worships Thee may call Thee what he will !



.]]>
WHAT matters it what men may call Thee, Thou,
The Eternal One, who reign'st supreme, alone,
The boundless universe Thy mighty throne ?
When souls before Thee reverently bow,

Oh, carest Thou what name the lips breathe low
Jove, or Osiris, or the God Unknown
To whom the Athenians raised their altar stone,
Or Thine, O Holiest, unto whom we vow ?

The sun hath many names in many lands;
Yet upon all its golden splendors fall,
Where'er, from age to age entreating still,

The adoring earth uplifts its waiting hands.
Love knows all names and answereth to all
Who worships Thee may call Thee what he will !



.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23852 Sun, 27 Jan 2019 06:29:17 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23852 (BOSTON, Nov. 3, 1878.)

O, LORD OF HOSTS, how sacred is this place,
Where, though the tides of time resistless flow,
And the long generations come and go,
Thou still abidest! In this holy space

The very airs are hushed before Thy face,
And wait in reverent calm, as voices low
Blend in the prayers and chantings, soft and slow,
And the gray twilight stealeth on apace.

Hark ! There are whispers from the time-worn walls ;
The mighty dead glide up the shadowy aisle;
And there are rustlings as of angels' wings

While from the choir the heavenly music falls!
Well may we bow in grateful praise the while
In the King's Chapel reigns the King of Kings !


.]]> (BOSTON, Nov. 3, 1878.)

O, LORD OF HOSTS, how sacred is this place,
Where, though the tides of time resistless flow,
And the long generations come and go,
Thou still abidest! In this holy space

The very airs are hushed before Thy face,
And wait in reverent calm, as voices low
Blend in the prayers and chantings, soft and slow,
And the gray twilight stealeth on apace.

Hark ! There are whispers from the time-worn walls ;
The mighty dead glide up the shadowy aisle;
And there are rustlings as of angels' wings

While from the choir the heavenly music falls!
Well may we bow in grateful praise the while
In the King's Chapel reigns the King of Kings !


.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23851 Sun, 27 Jan 2019 06:28:38 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23851
WHAT though we sleep a thousand leagues apart,
I by my mountains, you beside your sea?
What though our moss-grown graves divided be
By the wide reaches of a continent's heart ?

When from long slumber we at length shall start
Wakened to stronger life, exultant, free,
This mortal clothed in immortality,
Where shall I find my heaven save where thou art?

Straight as a bird that hasteth to its nest,
Glad as an eagle soaring to the light,
Swift as the thought that bears my soul to thine

When yon lone star hangs trembling in the west,
So straight, so glad, so swift to thee my flight,
Led on through farthest space by love divine !


.]]>
WHAT though we sleep a thousand leagues apart,
I by my mountains, you beside your sea?
What though our moss-grown graves divided be
By the wide reaches of a continent's heart ?

When from long slumber we at length shall start
Wakened to stronger life, exultant, free,
This mortal clothed in immortality,
Where shall I find my heaven save where thou art?

Straight as a bird that hasteth to its nest,
Glad as an eagle soaring to the light,
Swift as the thought that bears my soul to thine

When yon lone star hangs trembling in the west,
So straight, so glad, so swift to thee my flight,
Led on through farthest space by love divine !


.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23850 Sun, 27 Jan 2019 06:27:45 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23850

O MIGHTY Earth, thou art too wide, too wide I
Too vast thy continents, too broad thy seas,
Too far thy prairies stretching fair as these
Now reddening in the sunset's crimson tide!

Sundered by thee how have thy children cried
Each to some other, until every breeze
Has borne a burden of fond messages
That all unheard in thy lone wastes have died!

Draw closer, O dear Earth, thy hills that soar
Up to blue skies such countless leagues apart !
Bid thou thine awful spaces smaller grow !

Compass thy billows with a narrower shore,
That yearning lips may meet, heart beat to heart,
And parted souls forget their lonely woe !



.]]>

O MIGHTY Earth, thou art too wide, too wide I
Too vast thy continents, too broad thy seas,
Too far thy prairies stretching fair as these
Now reddening in the sunset's crimson tide!

Sundered by thee how have thy children cried
Each to some other, until every breeze
Has borne a burden of fond messages
That all unheard in thy lone wastes have died!

Draw closer, O dear Earth, thy hills that soar
Up to blue skies such countless leagues apart !
Bid thou thine awful spaces smaller grow !

Compass thy billows with a narrower shore,
That yearning lips may meet, heart beat to heart,
And parted souls forget their lonely woe !



.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23849 Sun, 27 Jan 2019 06:26:56 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23849
WHEN upon eyes long dim, to whom the light
Of sun and stars had unfamiliar grown,
Eyes that so long in deepening shades had known
The mystic visions of the inner sight,

Day broke, at last, after the weary night,
I cannot think its sudden glory shone
In pitiless brightness, dazzling, clear, and white
A piercing splendor on the darkness thrown !

Softly as moonlight steals upon the skies,
Slowly as shadows creep at set of sun,
Gently as falls a mother's tender kiss,

So softly stole the light upon his eyes;
So slowly passed the shadows one by one;
So gently dawned the morning of his bliss !


.]]>
WHEN upon eyes long dim, to whom the light
Of sun and stars had unfamiliar grown,
Eyes that so long in deepening shades had known
The mystic visions of the inner sight,

Day broke, at last, after the weary night,
I cannot think its sudden glory shone
In pitiless brightness, dazzling, clear, and white
A piercing splendor on the darkness thrown !

Softly as moonlight steals upon the skies,
Slowly as shadows creep at set of sun,
Gently as falls a mother's tender kiss,

So softly stole the light upon his eyes;
So slowly passed the shadows one by one;
So gently dawned the morning of his bliss !


.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23848 Sun, 27 Jan 2019 06:26:14 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23848
" ' WHEN Greek meets Greek,' you know," he sadly said,
" ' Then comes the tug of war.' I deem him great,
And own him wise and good. Yet adverse fate
Hath made us enemies. If I were dead,

And buried deep with grave-mold on my head,
I still believe, that, came he soon or late
Where I was lying in my last estate,
My dust would quiver at his lightest tread ! "

The slow years passed; and one fair summer night,
When the low sun was reddening all the west,
I saw two grave-mounds, where the grass was bright,

Lying so near each other that the crest
Of the same wave touched each with amber light.
But, ah, dear hearts ! how undisturbed their rest !



.]]>
" ' WHEN Greek meets Greek,' you know," he sadly said,
" ' Then comes the tug of war.' I deem him great,
And own him wise and good. Yet adverse fate
Hath made us enemies. If I were dead,

And buried deep with grave-mold on my head,
I still believe, that, came he soon or late
Where I was lying in my last estate,
My dust would quiver at his lightest tread ! "

The slow years passed; and one fair summer night,
When the low sun was reddening all the west,
I saw two grave-mounds, where the grass was bright,

Lying so near each other that the crest
Of the same wave touched each with amber light.
But, ah, dear hearts ! how undisturbed their rest !



.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23847 Sat, 26 Jan 2019 10:16:09 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23847
O, SOUL! rememberest thou how Mary went
In the gray dawn to weep beside the tomb
Where one she loved lay buried ? Through the gloom,
Pallid with pain, and with long anguish spent,

Still pressed she on with solemn, high intent,
Bearing her costly gifts of rare perfume
And spices odorous with eastern bloom,
Unto the Master's sepulcher! But rent

Was the great stone from its low door away;
And when she stooped to peer with startled eyes
Into the dark where slept the pallid clay,

Lo, it was gone ! And there in heavenly guise,
So grandly calm, so fair in morn's first ray,
She found an angel from the upper skies!




.]]>
O, SOUL! rememberest thou how Mary went
In the gray dawn to weep beside the tomb
Where one she loved lay buried ? Through the gloom,
Pallid with pain, and with long anguish spent,

Still pressed she on with solemn, high intent,
Bearing her costly gifts of rare perfume
And spices odorous with eastern bloom,
Unto the Master's sepulcher! But rent

Was the great stone from its low door away;
And when she stooped to peer with startled eyes
Into the dark where slept the pallid clay,

Lo, it was gone ! And there in heavenly guise,
So grandly calm, so fair in morn's first ray,
She found an angel from the upper skies!




.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23846 Sat, 26 Jan 2019 10:14:58 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23846
GRASS grows at last above all graves, you say ?
Why, therein lies the sharpest sting of all !
To think that stars will rise and dews will fall,
Hills flush with purple splendor, soft winds play

Where roses bloom and violets of May,
Robin to robin in the tree-tops call,
And all sweet sights and sounds the senses thrall,
Just as they did before that dreadful day!

Does that bring comfort ? Are we glad to know
That our eyes sometime must forget to weep,
Even as June forgets December's snow ?

Over the graves where our beloved sleep,
We charge thee, Time, let not the green grass grow,
Nor your relentless mosses coldly creep !


.]]>
GRASS grows at last above all graves, you say ?
Why, therein lies the sharpest sting of all !
To think that stars will rise and dews will fall,
Hills flush with purple splendor, soft winds play

Where roses bloom and violets of May,
Robin to robin in the tree-tops call,
And all sweet sights and sounds the senses thrall,
Just as they did before that dreadful day!

Does that bring comfort ? Are we glad to know
That our eyes sometime must forget to weep,
Even as June forgets December's snow ?

Over the graves where our beloved sleep,
We charge thee, Time, let not the green grass grow,
Nor your relentless mosses coldly creep !


.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23845 Sat, 26 Jan 2019 10:13:29 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23845
WHAT dost thou bring to me, O fair To-day,
That contest o'er the mountains with swift feet ?
All the young birds make haste thy steps to greet
And all the dewy roses of the May

Turn red and white with joy. The breezes play
On their soft harps a welcome low and sweet ;
All nature hails thee, glad thy face to meet,
And owns thy presence in a brighter ray.

But my poor soul distrusts thee ! One as fair
As thou art, O To-day, drew near to me,
Serene and smiling, yet she bade me wear

The sudden sackcloth of a great despair!
O, pitiless! that through the wandering air
Sent no kind warning of the ill to be !



.]]>
WHAT dost thou bring to me, O fair To-day,
That contest o'er the mountains with swift feet ?
All the young birds make haste thy steps to greet
And all the dewy roses of the May

Turn red and white with joy. The breezes play
On their soft harps a welcome low and sweet ;
All nature hails thee, glad thy face to meet,
And owns thy presence in a brighter ray.

But my poor soul distrusts thee ! One as fair
As thou art, O To-day, drew near to me,
Serene and smiling, yet she bade me wear

The sudden sackcloth of a great despair!
O, pitiless! that through the wandering air
Sent no kind warning of the ill to be !



.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23844 Sat, 26 Jan 2019 10:12:38 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23844
WHO calls thee "gentle Sleep?" O! rare coquette,
Who comest crowned with poppies, thou shouldst wear
Nettles instead, or thistles, in thy hair;
For thou 'rt the veriest elf that ever yet

Made weary mortals sigh and toss and fret !
Thou dost float softly through the drowsy air
Hovering as if to kiss my lips and share
My restless pillow; but ere I can set

My arms to clasp thee, without sign or speech,
Save one swift, mocking smile thou 'rt out of reach !
Yet, sometime, thou, or one as like to thee
As sister is to sister, shalt draw near
With such soft lullabies for my dull ear,
That neither life nor love shall waken me !


.]]>
WHO calls thee "gentle Sleep?" O! rare coquette,
Who comest crowned with poppies, thou shouldst wear
Nettles instead, or thistles, in thy hair;
For thou 'rt the veriest elf that ever yet

Made weary mortals sigh and toss and fret !
Thou dost float softly through the drowsy air
Hovering as if to kiss my lips and share
My restless pillow; but ere I can set

My arms to clasp thee, without sign or speech,
Save one swift, mocking smile thou 'rt out of reach !
Yet, sometime, thou, or one as like to thee
As sister is to sister, shalt draw near
With such soft lullabies for my dull ear,
That neither life nor love shall waken me !


.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23843 Sat, 26 Jan 2019 09:44:12 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23843
(JUNE 2;th, 1878.)


O FAIR young queen, who liest dead to-day
In thy proud palace o'er the moaning sea,
With still, white hands that never more may be
Lifted to pluck life's roses bright with May

Little is it to you that, far away,
Where skies you knew not bend above the free,
Hearts touched with tender pity turn to thee,
And for thy sake a shadow dims the day !

But youth and love and womanhood are one,
Though across sundering seas their signals fly;
Young Love's pure kiss, the joy but just begun,

The hope of motherhood, thy people's cry
O thou fair child ! was it not hard to die
And leave so much beneath the summer sun?




.]]>
(JUNE 2;th, 1878.)


O FAIR young queen, who liest dead to-day
In thy proud palace o'er the moaning sea,
With still, white hands that never more may be
Lifted to pluck life's roses bright with May

Little is it to you that, far away,
Where skies you knew not bend above the free,
Hearts touched with tender pity turn to thee,
And for thy sake a shadow dims the day !

But youth and love and womanhood are one,
Though across sundering seas their signals fly;
Young Love's pure kiss, the joy but just begun,

The hope of motherhood, thy people's cry
O thou fair child ! was it not hard to die
And leave so much beneath the summer sun?




.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23842 Tue, 08 Jan 2019 09:36:59 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23842

SOMETIMES my heart grows faint with longing, dear,
Longing to see thy face, to touch thy hand.
But mountains rise between us ; leagues of land
Stretch on and on where mighty lakes lie clear

In the far spaces, and great forests rear
Their somber crowns on many a lonely strand !
Yet, O my fair child, canst thou understand,
Thou whose dear place was once beside me here,

How yet I dare not pray that thou and" I
Again may dwell together as of old ?
There is a gate between us, locked and barred,

Over which we may not climb, and standing nigh
Is the white angel Sorrow, who doth hold
The only key that may unlock its ward !



II.

YET think not I would have it otherwise !
Our God, who knoweth women's hearts, knows best
And every little bird must build its nest
From whence it soareth, singing, to the skies.

What though the one that thou hast builded lies
Where sinks the sun to its enchanted rest,
If, on each breeze that bloweth east or west,
To thee, on swiftest wing, my spirit flies?

We are not far apart, and ne'er shall be !
For Love, like God, knoweth not time, nor space,
And it is freer than the viewless air;

And well I know, beloved, that if we
Trod different planets in yon starry space
We should reach out, and find each other there!]]>

SOMETIMES my heart grows faint with longing, dear,
Longing to see thy face, to touch thy hand.
But mountains rise between us ; leagues of land
Stretch on and on where mighty lakes lie clear

In the far spaces, and great forests rear
Their somber crowns on many a lonely strand !
Yet, O my fair child, canst thou understand,
Thou whose dear place was once beside me here,

How yet I dare not pray that thou and" I
Again may dwell together as of old ?
There is a gate between us, locked and barred,

Over which we may not climb, and standing nigh
Is the white angel Sorrow, who doth hold
The only key that may unlock its ward !



II.

YET think not I would have it otherwise !
Our God, who knoweth women's hearts, knows best
And every little bird must build its nest
From whence it soareth, singing, to the skies.

What though the one that thou hast builded lies
Where sinks the sun to its enchanted rest,
If, on each breeze that bloweth east or west,
To thee, on swiftest wing, my spirit flies?

We are not far apart, and ne'er shall be !
For Love, like God, knoweth not time, nor space,
And it is freer than the viewless air;

And well I know, beloved, that if we
Trod different planets in yon starry space
We should reach out, and find each other there!]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23841 Tue, 08 Jan 2019 09:34:38 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23841

WHEN I awake at morn, refreshed, renewed,
Glad with the gladness of the jocund day
And jubilant with all the birds of May,
My spirit shrinks from Night's dull quietude.

With it and Sleep I have a deadly feud.
I hear the young winds in the maples play,
The river singing on its happy way,
The swallows twittering to their callow brood.

The fresh, fair earth is full of joyous life ;
The tree-tops toss in billowy unrest;
The very mountain shadows are astir !

With eager heart I thrill to join the strife;
Doing, not dreaming, to my soul seems best,
And I am lordly Day's true worshiper!



II.

BUT when with Day's long weariness oppressed,
With folded hands I watch the sun go down,
Lighting far torches in the steepled town,
And kindling all the glowing, reddening west;

When every sleepy bird has sought its nest ;
When the long shadows from the hills are thrown,
And Night's soft airs about the world are blown,
Thou heart of mine, how sweet it is to rest !

O, Israfil ! Thou of the tuneful voice !
It will be night-fall when thy voice I hear,
Summoning me to slumber-soft and low !

Day will be done. Then will I not rejoice
That all my tasks are o'er and rest is near,
And, like a tired child, be glad to go?]]>

WHEN I awake at morn, refreshed, renewed,
Glad with the gladness of the jocund day
And jubilant with all the birds of May,
My spirit shrinks from Night's dull quietude.

With it and Sleep I have a deadly feud.
I hear the young winds in the maples play,
The river singing on its happy way,
The swallows twittering to their callow brood.

The fresh, fair earth is full of joyous life ;
The tree-tops toss in billowy unrest;
The very mountain shadows are astir !

With eager heart I thrill to join the strife;
Doing, not dreaming, to my soul seems best,
And I am lordly Day's true worshiper!



II.

BUT when with Day's long weariness oppressed,
With folded hands I watch the sun go down,
Lighting far torches in the steepled town,
And kindling all the glowing, reddening west;

When every sleepy bird has sought its nest ;
When the long shadows from the hills are thrown,
And Night's soft airs about the world are blown,
Thou heart of mine, how sweet it is to rest !

O, Israfil ! Thou of the tuneful voice !
It will be night-fall when thy voice I hear,
Summoning me to slumber-soft and low !

Day will be done. Then will I not rejoice
That all my tasks are o'er and rest is near,
And, like a tired child, be glad to go?]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23840 Tue, 08 Jan 2019 09:29:45 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23840
I BROUGHT thee, love, the first pale buds of spring,
Frail blooms that trembled in the lonely dells ;
Wild violets, mayhap, or nodding bells
Gathered when happy birds on joyous wing

Fluttered from bough to bough to coo and sing.
I brought thee summer roses, such as grow
In our own garden ground, and do not know
The grace of tenderer culture. Now I bring

The early fiowers of autumn golden-rod
Plucked by the wayside, asters starry-eyed,
With here and there, alas ! a crimson leaf

That dropped, untitnely, on the waiting sod.
Dear heart .' refuse not thou this later sheaf
From fields where we have wandered side by side.]]>
I BROUGHT thee, love, the first pale buds of spring,
Frail blooms that trembled in the lonely dells ;
Wild violets, mayhap, or nodding bells
Gathered when happy birds on joyous wing

Fluttered from bough to bough to coo and sing.
I brought thee summer roses, such as grow
In our own garden ground, and do not know
The grace of tenderer culture. Now I bring

The early fiowers of autumn golden-rod
Plucked by the wayside, asters starry-eyed,
With here and there, alas ! a crimson leaf

That dropped, untitnely, on the waiting sod.
Dear heart .' refuse not thou this later sheaf
From fields where we have wandered side by side.]]>