https://sonett.fontane-place.de/ Sun, 28 Jun 2026 17:03:20 +0000 MyBB https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17455 Sun, 28 Oct 2007 12:41:07 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17455 Castalian music, and that flattering sound,
Low rustling of the loved Apollian leaves,
With which my youthful hair was to be crowned,
Grow dimmer in my ears ; while Beauty grieves
Over her votary, less frequent found ;
And, not untouched by storms, my lifeboat heaves
Through the splashed ocean -waters, outward bound.
And as the leaning mariner, his hand
Clasped on his ear, strives trembling to reclaim
Some loved lost echo from the fleeting strand,
So lean I back to the poetic land ;
And in my heart a sound, a voice, a name
Hangs, as above the lamp hangs the expiring flame.]]> Castalian music, and that flattering sound,
Low rustling of the loved Apollian leaves,
With which my youthful hair was to be crowned,
Grow dimmer in my ears ; while Beauty grieves
Over her votary, less frequent found ;
And, not untouched by storms, my lifeboat heaves
Through the splashed ocean -waters, outward bound.
And as the leaning mariner, his hand
Clasped on his ear, strives trembling to reclaim
Some loved lost echo from the fleeting strand,
So lean I back to the poetic land ;
And in my heart a sound, a voice, a name
Hangs, as above the lamp hangs the expiring flame.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17454 Sun, 28 Oct 2007 12:39:43 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17454
OVER the ground white snow, and in the air
Silence. The stars like lamps soon to expire.
Gleam tremblingly ; serene and heavenly fair,
The eastern hanging crescent climbeth higher.
See, purple on the azure softly steals,
And Morning, faintly touched with quivering fire,
Leans on the frosty summits of the hills,
Like a young girl over her hoary sire.
Oh, such a dawning over me has come,
The daybreak of thy purity and love ;
The sadness of the never-satiate tomb
Thy countenance hath power to remove ;
And from the sepulchre of Hope thy palm
Can roll the stone, and raise her bright and calm.]]>
OVER the ground white snow, and in the air
Silence. The stars like lamps soon to expire.
Gleam tremblingly ; serene and heavenly fair,
The eastern hanging crescent climbeth higher.
See, purple on the azure softly steals,
And Morning, faintly touched with quivering fire,
Leans on the frosty summits of the hills,
Like a young girl over her hoary sire.
Oh, such a dawning over me has come,
The daybreak of thy purity and love ;
The sadness of the never-satiate tomb
Thy countenance hath power to remove ;
And from the sepulchre of Hope thy palm
Can roll the stone, and raise her bright and calm.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17453 Sun, 28 Oct 2007 12:37:16 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17453
FRAUGHT with sad benediction, as the leaves
Of night-fed Upas in the midmost climes
Each morning's blessingmay dispense betimes,
His palsied fingers span the crowd that heaves
Beneath, and, madly restless, idly grieves
Because its joys are lesser than its crimes ;
His speech is rhythmic with a strange sea's chimes,
And all his tropes are soul-incantatives.
O mystery of kingship that he wears
On throne of sacrifice, to right the wrong !
For love of him the poet takes his cares
And with baptismal sacrament calls them song,
And yearningly saints kiss his sceptral rod,
At sight of eyes that shine like tears of God !]]>
FRAUGHT with sad benediction, as the leaves
Of night-fed Upas in the midmost climes
Each morning's blessingmay dispense betimes,
His palsied fingers span the crowd that heaves
Beneath, and, madly restless, idly grieves
Because its joys are lesser than its crimes ;
His speech is rhythmic with a strange sea's chimes,
And all his tropes are soul-incantatives.
O mystery of kingship that he wears
On throne of sacrifice, to right the wrong !
For love of him the poet takes his cares
And with baptismal sacrament calls them song,
And yearningly saints kiss his sceptral rod,
At sight of eyes that shine like tears of God !]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17452 Sun, 28 Oct 2007 12:34:46 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17452
WE sat together underneath a lime,
Whose netted branches wove an emerald night;
And in short sentences in low and light
Whispers recalled the stories of old time ;
Until some word, I know not what, some rhyme
Dragged out a hidden grief, that lived in spite
Of creeping lichen years such years as might
Well humble all that once was thought sublime.
My grief it was, and will be : she but sees
A strangeness which she cannot understand ;
A nameless tower overgrown with trees ;
A heap of stones encumbering the land ;
A hearth now haunted by the wintry breeze,
Long, long ago, by love and fancy fanned.]]>
WE sat together underneath a lime,
Whose netted branches wove an emerald night;
And in short sentences in low and light
Whispers recalled the stories of old time ;
Until some word, I know not what, some rhyme
Dragged out a hidden grief, that lived in spite
Of creeping lichen years such years as might
Well humble all that once was thought sublime.
My grief it was, and will be : she but sees
A strangeness which she cannot understand ;
A nameless tower overgrown with trees ;
A heap of stones encumbering the land ;
A hearth now haunted by the wintry breeze,
Long, long ago, by love and fancy fanned.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17450 Sun, 28 Oct 2007 12:28:13 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17450
WEAVE o'er the world your weft, yea weave your selves.
Imperial races, weave the warp thereof.
Swift like your shuttle speed the ships, and scoff
At wind and wave. And, as a miner delves
For hidden treasure bedded deep in stone,
So seek ye and find the treasure patriotism
In lands remote and dipped with alien chrism,
And make those new lands heart-dear and your own.
Weave o'er the world your selves. Half-human man
Wanes from before your faces like a cloud
Sun-stricken, and his soil becomes his shroud.
But of your souls and bodies ye shall make
The sovereign vesture of its leagueless span,
Clothing with history cliff and wild and lake.]]>
WEAVE o'er the world your weft, yea weave your selves.
Imperial races, weave the warp thereof.
Swift like your shuttle speed the ships, and scoff
At wind and wave. And, as a miner delves
For hidden treasure bedded deep in stone,
So seek ye and find the treasure patriotism
In lands remote and dipped with alien chrism,
And make those new lands heart-dear and your own.
Weave o'er the world your selves. Half-human man
Wanes from before your faces like a cloud
Sun-stricken, and his soil becomes his shroud.
But of your souls and bodies ye shall make
The sovereign vesture of its leagueless span,
Clothing with history cliff and wild and lake.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17449 Sun, 28 Oct 2007 12:27:02 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17449 Octobre 1849

HOW long, O Lord? The voice is sounding still
Not only heard beneath the altar-stone,
Not heard of John Evangelist alone
In Patmos. It cloth cry aloud and will
Between the earth's end and earth's end, until
The day of the great reckoning bone for bone,
And blood for righteous blood, and groan for groan :
Then shall it cease on the air with a sudden thrill ;
Not slowly growing fainter if the rod
Strikes here or there amid the evil throng,
Or one oppressor's hand is stayed and numbs ;
Not till the vengeance that is coming comes.
For shall all hear the voice excepting God,
Or God not listen, hearing ? Lord, how long ?]]> Octobre 1849

HOW long, O Lord? The voice is sounding still
Not only heard beneath the altar-stone,
Not heard of John Evangelist alone
In Patmos. It cloth cry aloud and will
Between the earth's end and earth's end, until
The day of the great reckoning bone for bone,
And blood for righteous blood, and groan for groan :
Then shall it cease on the air with a sudden thrill ;
Not slowly growing fainter if the rod
Strikes here or there amid the evil throng,
Or one oppressor's hand is stayed and numbs ;
Not till the vengeance that is coming comes.
For shall all hear the voice excepting God,
Or God not listen, hearing ? Lord, how long ?]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17285 Tue, 31 Jul 2007 11:00:40 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17285 And went to meet her brother's Friend: and they
Who tarried with her said: "she goes to pray
And weep where her dead brother's body lies."

So, with their wringing of hands and with sighs,
They stood before Him in the public way.
"Had'st Thou been with him, Lord, upon that day,
He had not died," she said, drooping her eyes.

Mary and Martha with bowed faces kept
Holding His garments, one on each side. - "Where
Have yé laid him?" He asked. "Lord, come and see." -

The sound of grieving voices heavily
And universally was round Him there,
A sound that smote His spirit. Jesus wept.]]> And went to meet her brother's Friend: and they
Who tarried with her said: "she goes to pray
And weep where her dead brother's body lies."

So, with their wringing of hands and with sighs,
They stood before Him in the public way.
"Had'st Thou been with him, Lord, upon that day,
He had not died," she said, drooping her eyes.

Mary and Martha with bowed faces kept
Holding His garments, one on each side. - "Where
Have yé laid him?" He asked. "Lord, come and see." -

The sound of grieving voices heavily
And universally was round Him there,
A sound that smote His spirit. Jesus wept.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17282 Tue, 31 Jul 2007 10:34:39 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17282 1753 - 1831 Großbritannien

The Camellia

At Venus wandered 'midst the Idalian bower,
And marked the loves and graces round her play;
She plucked a musk-rose from its dew-bent spray,
"And this," she cried, "shall be my favorite flower;

For o'er its crimson leaflets I will shower
Dissolving sweets to steal the soul away;
That Dian's self shall own their sovereign sway,
And feel the influence of my mightier power."

Then spoke fair Cynthia, as severe she smiled, -
"Be others by thy amorous arts beguiled,
Ne'er shall thy dangerous gifts these brows adorn:

To me more dear than all their rich perfume
The chaste camellia's pure and spotless bloom,
That boasts no fragance, and conceals no thorn." -]]> 1753 - 1831 Großbritannien

The Camellia

At Venus wandered 'midst the Idalian bower,
And marked the loves and graces round her play;
She plucked a musk-rose from its dew-bent spray,
"And this," she cried, "shall be my favorite flower;

For o'er its crimson leaflets I will shower
Dissolving sweets to steal the soul away;
That Dian's self shall own their sovereign sway,
And feel the influence of my mightier power."

Then spoke fair Cynthia, as severe she smiled, -
"Be others by thy amorous arts beguiled,
Ne'er shall thy dangerous gifts these brows adorn:

To me more dear than all their rich perfume
The chaste camellia's pure and spotless bloom,
That boasts no fragance, and conceals no thorn." -]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17272 Tue, 31 Jul 2007 06:41:33 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17272 Whose varying hues arise to Fancy's art,
And by her magic force are swift combined
In forms that please, and scenes that touch the heart:

Oh! whether at her voice ye soft assume
The pensive grace of sorrow drooping low;
Or rise sublime on terror's lofty plume,
And shake the soul with wildly thrilling woe;

Or, sweetly bright, your gayer tints ye spread, -
Bid scenes of pleasuse steal upon my view,
Love wave his purple pinions o'er my head,

And wake the tender thought to passion true;
O! still - ye shadowy forms! attend my lonely hours,
Still chase my real cares with your illusive powers!]]> Whose varying hues arise to Fancy's art,
And by her magic force are swift combined
In forms that please, and scenes that touch the heart:

Oh! whether at her voice ye soft assume
The pensive grace of sorrow drooping low;
Or rise sublime on terror's lofty plume,
And shake the soul with wildly thrilling woe;

Or, sweetly bright, your gayer tints ye spread, -
Bid scenes of pleasuse steal upon my view,
Love wave his purple pinions o'er my head,

And wake the tender thought to passion true;
O! still - ye shadowy forms! attend my lonely hours,
Still chase my real cares with your illusive powers!]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=16449 Sat, 14 Jul 2007 13:02:19 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=16449

Again thou reignest in thy golden hall,
Rejoicing in thy sway, fair queen of night!
The ruddy reapers hail thee with delight,
Theirs is the harvest, theirs the joyous call
For tasks well ended ere the season's fall.
Sweet orb, thou smilest from thy starry height,
But whilst on them thy beams are shedding bright,
To me thou comest overshadowed with a pall:
To me alone the year hath fruitless flown,
Earth hath fulfilled her trust through all her lands,
The good man gathereth now where he had sown,
And the great master in his vineyard stands;
But I, as if my task were all unknown,
Come to his gates, alas, with empty hands.]]>

Again thou reignest in thy golden hall,
Rejoicing in thy sway, fair queen of night!
The ruddy reapers hail thee with delight,
Theirs is the harvest, theirs the joyous call
For tasks well ended ere the season's fall.
Sweet orb, thou smilest from thy starry height,
But whilst on them thy beams are shedding bright,
To me thou comest overshadowed with a pall:
To me alone the year hath fruitless flown,
Earth hath fulfilled her trust through all her lands,
The good man gathereth now where he had sown,
And the great master in his vineyard stands;
But I, as if my task were all unknown,
Come to his gates, alas, with empty hands.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=16448 Sat, 14 Jul 2007 13:01:27 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=16448

Stay thine overshadowing wings, relentless Time,
Nor shed those auburn locks with falling gray,
That over my father's frownless forehead play
Graceful and fair, as in youth's golden prime.
Stay thy rude hand, and he through many a clime
Shall teach thee to retrace thy distant way
To the bright regions of historic day!
Or he shall charm thee with prophetic rhyme
Swept from the strings of freedom's holy lyre,
Or call the muses from the Ausonian land,
And with the strain their breathing lips inspire,
Win thy cold ear, and check thy ebbing sand!
Vain is my prayer--already over my sire
Thou, ruthless power, hast stretched thine iron hand!]]>

Stay thine overshadowing wings, relentless Time,
Nor shed those auburn locks with falling gray,
That over my father's frownless forehead play
Graceful and fair, as in youth's golden prime.
Stay thy rude hand, and he through many a clime
Shall teach thee to retrace thy distant way
To the bright regions of historic day!
Or he shall charm thee with prophetic rhyme
Swept from the strings of freedom's holy lyre,
Or call the muses from the Ausonian land,
And with the strain their breathing lips inspire,
Win thy cold ear, and check thy ebbing sand!
Vain is my prayer--already over my sire
Thou, ruthless power, hast stretched thine iron hand!]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=16447 Sat, 14 Jul 2007 13:00:46 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=16447

As one who destined from his friends to part,
Regrets his loss, yet hopes again ere-while
To share their converse and enjoy their smile,
And tempers, as he may, affliction's dart,--
Thus, loved asociates! chiefs of elder art!
Teachers of wisdom! who could once beguile
My tedious hours, and lighten every toil,
I now resign you; nor with fainting heart--
For pass a few short years, or days, or hours,
And happier seasons may their dawn unfold,
And all your sacred fellowship restore;
When, freed from earth, unlimited its powers,
Mind shall with mind direct communion hold,
And kindred spirits meet to part no more.]]>

As one who destined from his friends to part,
Regrets his loss, yet hopes again ere-while
To share their converse and enjoy their smile,
And tempers, as he may, affliction's dart,--
Thus, loved asociates! chiefs of elder art!
Teachers of wisdom! who could once beguile
My tedious hours, and lighten every toil,
I now resign you; nor with fainting heart--
For pass a few short years, or days, or hours,
And happier seasons may their dawn unfold,
And all your sacred fellowship restore;
When, freed from earth, unlimited its powers,
Mind shall with mind direct communion hold,
And kindred spirits meet to part no more.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=15253 Mon, 11 Jun 2007 09:43:41 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=15253
When, with low moanings on the distant shore,
Like vain regrets, the ocean-tide is rolled:
When, thro' bare boughs, the tale of death is told
By breezes sighing, "Summer days are o'er";
When all the days we loved -- the days of yore --
Lie in their vaults, dead Kings who ruled of old --
Unrobed and sceptreless, uncrowned with gold,
Conquered, and to be crowned, ah! never more.
If o'er the bare fields, cold and whitening
With the first snow-flakes, I should see thy form,
And meet and kiss thee, that were enough of Spring;
Enough of sunshine, could I feel the warm
Glad beating of thy heart 'neath Winter's wing,
Tho' Earth were full of whirlwind and of storm.]]>
When, with low moanings on the distant shore,
Like vain regrets, the ocean-tide is rolled:
When, thro' bare boughs, the tale of death is told
By breezes sighing, "Summer days are o'er";
When all the days we loved -- the days of yore --
Lie in their vaults, dead Kings who ruled of old --
Unrobed and sceptreless, uncrowned with gold,
Conquered, and to be crowned, ah! never more.
If o'er the bare fields, cold and whitening
With the first snow-flakes, I should see thy form,
And meet and kiss thee, that were enough of Spring;
Enough of sunshine, could I feel the warm
Glad beating of thy heart 'neath Winter's wing,
Tho' Earth were full of whirlwind and of storm.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=15252 Mon, 11 Jun 2007 09:41:54 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=15252
Becalmed upon the equatorial seas,
A ship of gold lay on a sea of fire;
Each sail and rope and spar, as in desire,
Mutely besought the kisses of a breeze;
Low laughter told the mariners at ease;
Sweet sea-songs hymned the red sun's fun'ral pyre:
Yet One, with eyes that never seemed to tire,
Watched for the storm, nursed on the thunder's knees.
Thou watcher of the spirit's inner keep,
Scanning Death's lone, illimitable deep,
Spread outward to the far immortal shore!
While the vault sleeps, from the upheaving deck,
Thou see'st the adamantine reefs that wreck,
And Life's low shoals, where lusting billows roar.]]>
Becalmed upon the equatorial seas,
A ship of gold lay on a sea of fire;
Each sail and rope and spar, as in desire,
Mutely besought the kisses of a breeze;
Low laughter told the mariners at ease;
Sweet sea-songs hymned the red sun's fun'ral pyre:
Yet One, with eyes that never seemed to tire,
Watched for the storm, nursed on the thunder's knees.
Thou watcher of the spirit's inner keep,
Scanning Death's lone, illimitable deep,
Spread outward to the far immortal shore!
While the vault sleeps, from the upheaving deck,
Thou see'st the adamantine reefs that wreck,
And Life's low shoals, where lusting billows roar.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=15251 Mon, 11 Jun 2007 09:41:16 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=15251
I heard Old Ocean raise her voice and cry,
In that still hour between the night and day;
I saw the answering tides, green robed and gray,
Turn to her with a low contented sigh;
Marching with silent feet they passed me by,
For the white moon had taught them to obey,
And scarce a wavelet broke in fretful spray,
As they went forth to kiss the stooping sky.
So, to my heart, when the last sunray sleeps,
And the wan night, impatient for the moon,
Throws her gray mantle over land and sea,
There comes a call from out Life's nether deeps,
And tides, like some old ocean in a swoon,
Flow out, in soundless majesty, to thee.]]>
I heard Old Ocean raise her voice and cry,
In that still hour between the night and day;
I saw the answering tides, green robed and gray,
Turn to her with a low contented sigh;
Marching with silent feet they passed me by,
For the white moon had taught them to obey,
And scarce a wavelet broke in fretful spray,
As they went forth to kiss the stooping sky.
So, to my heart, when the last sunray sleeps,
And the wan night, impatient for the moon,
Throws her gray mantle over land and sea,
There comes a call from out Life's nether deeps,
And tides, like some old ocean in a swoon,
Flow out, in soundless majesty, to thee.]]>