Classic Poem

Silently the moon is hiding
Now behind the fir-tree's gloom,
And our lamp is flickering faintly,
And it hardly lights the room.

Yet those same twin stars of azure
Shine on me with brighter rays,
And the rosebuds red are shining,
And the little darling says:

“Yes, the gnomes and little people
Steal our ham and bread away;
In the pan it lies at evening,
And 'tis gone before the day.

“From the milk the little people
Greedily the cream will sup;
Then they leave the bowl uncovered,
And what's left the cat laps up.

“And our cat's a witch—that's certain!
For in night and storm she'll creep
Over to the Haunted Mountain,
To the ancient shattered keep.

“There in old time stood a castle
Bright with arms and beauty's glance;
Gallant knights and dames and squires
Led the stately torchlight dance.

“Castle, people too, were cursèd
By a sorceress unblest;
Ruins only were left standing,
Where the screech-owl builds her nest.

“Poor dear Auntie used to tell us,
Speak but the one word aright,
On the one right spot out yonder,
At the one right hour of night—

“That one word shall change the ruins
To a castle fair again,
Where will dance in merry measures
Knights and dames with all their train.

“Then shall pass to him who speaketh
Castle, people, all in truth,
Drums and trumpets sounding homage
To the splendour of his youth.”

Thus, even thus, old legends blossom
From the sweet mouth's rosy red;
Over them the azure starlight
Of her eager eyes is shed.

And she twines her golden tresses
Round my hands at her sweet will;
Gives sweet nicknames to my fingers,
Laughs and kisses, and is still.

In the silent chamber all things
Like old friends upon me gaze;
Table, sideboard, all, I've known them
Surely in the olden days.

And the clock discourses gravely;
From the untouched zither stream
Tones so low you scarce might hear them,
And I sit there in a dream.

Surely this is the right moment,
Surely the right place is this;
And the right word will glide gently
From these lips of mine, I wis!

“Dost thou see, child, how the midnight
Now already dawns and stirs?
And the hoary mountain wakens,
Louder murmur streams and firs.

“Zithers sound and fairies carol;
From the cloven mountain-side
Starts to life a sheet of flowers,
As in reckless April-tide.

“Flowers, daring wondrous flowers,
Broad, smooth leaves and curious stem,
Perfumed, many-hued, and quivering,
As if passion mastered them.

“From the whirling chaos, roses
Darting tongues of flame arise;
Lilies shoot like crystal columns
Upward to the very skies!

“On the earth with fiery yearning
Stars more vast than suns do gaze;
Into giant bells of lilies
Streams the torrent of their rays.

“More than all, ourselves are altered,
Oh, my darling, I and thou;
Torch-like glare and silk and jewels
Glitter all about us now.

“Thou, child, art become a princess,
This poor hut a lordly hall,
And again they dance exulting,
Knights and ladies, squires and all.

“I have won those halls, those people,
Won, my child, thyself in truth;
Drums and trumpets sound their homage
To the splendour of my youth.”