Poems (Waldenburg)/The Castle under the Sea
THE CASTLE UNDER THE SEA.
Soft o'er the forest sinks the night,
In shadows deep wide lies the sea;
In the fisherman's hut who awake can be,
Where flickers and flares the light?
In the low still room by the lamp's dim gloom,
Grandmother is telling tales of fear,
Of sprites and gnomes, and the maidens hear
With trembling forms, and crouch to listen,
While the eyes of the fisher boy glisten!
The stories are told, all is still in the cot,
The old and the young are sleeping;
Only the boy turns on his pillow so hot,
And the moon through the window is peeping.
Midnight hath tolled from the clock so old,
He springeth up from his bed so bold,
"O now is the time the truth to trace,"
And he boundeth forth with wild, bright face.
In shadows deep wide lies the sea;
In the fisherman's hut who awake can be,
Where flickers and flares the light?
In the low still room by the lamp's dim gloom,
Grandmother is telling tales of fear,
Of sprites and gnomes, and the maidens hear
With trembling forms, and crouch to listen,
While the eyes of the fisher boy glisten!
The stories are told, all is still in the cot,
The old and the young are sleeping;
Only the boy turns on his pillow so hot,
And the moon through the window is peeping.
Midnight hath tolled from the clock so old,
He springeth up from his bed so bold,
"O now is the time the truth to trace,"
And he boundeth forth with wild, bright face.
He left the hut, he left the shore,
The beach was veiled in mist like hoar,
He loosed the boat upon the flood
And pulled her fast with boiling blood,
He fought and pulled against the tide
Far out upon the waters wide
His ear was caught by distant singing,
And harps and flutes in music ringing,
And swords and golden goblets klinging!
The beach was veiled in mist like hoar,
He loosed the boat upon the flood
And pulled her fast with boiling blood,
He fought and pulled against the tide
Far out upon the waters wide
His ear was caught by distant singing,
And harps and flutes in music ringing,
And swords and golden goblets klinging!
Far o'er the small boat's side he stirred,
And looked far down in the depths so clear,
From another world sweet words he heard,
And it seemed to his eyes so near, so near!
And looked far down in the depths so clear,
From another world sweet words he heard,
And it seemed to his eyes so near, so near!
He saw the dome and delicate towers
Of the palace of pearl, his grandmother told;
Of the coral gardens and fairy bowers,
And turrets that shone with gold,
It stood so bright before the view,
"Oh yes, what Grandmother told was true!"
Of the palace of pearl, his grandmother told;
Of the coral gardens and fairy bowers,
And turrets that shone with gold,
It stood so bright before the view,
"Oh yes, what Grandmother told was true!"
Yet the palace court is all so still,
Tho' the lights burn bright in the palace hall,
And now the guests the tables fill,
The strains grow sweeter and seem to call,
"Come to the revel one and all,
Th' sheen on the fruit, the bead on the wine
And beauty, music, and love are divine!"
Tho' the lights burn bright in the palace hall,
And now the guests the tables fill,
The strains grow sweeter and seem to call,
"Come to the revel one and all,
Th' sheen on the fruit, the bead on the wine
And beauty, music, and love are divine!"
The song it swells and grows more sweet
And beautiful forms move in the dance;
Those wildly waltzing, tiny feet
N'er cease and soft the bright eyes glance.
And beautiful forms move in the dance;
Those wildly waltzing, tiny feet
N'er cease and soft the bright eyes glance.
The fisher boy bends nearer down,
The strains grow wilder and wilder,
Oh how the bacchantes throng and throng!
One sweet face shining milder
Than others, beckons to him,
With laughing mouth o'er the waters dun
"Grandmother thou hast not lied to me!"
And he springs with gladness into the sea!
The strains grow wilder and wilder,
Oh how the bacchantes throng and throng!
One sweet face shining milder
Than others, beckons to him,
With laughing mouth o'er the waters dun
"Grandmother thou hast not lied to me!"
And he springs with gladness into the sea!
The morning dawns so cold and clear,
The fishers go down to their nets by the sea,
But what is that which stirs their fear?
To them naught that's living can fearful be!
Far off they see an empty boat,
Near them a pallid corpse doth float,
With strange wild eyes and streaming hair,
'Tis the face of the fisher boy lying there!
The fishers go down to their nets by the sea,
But what is that which stirs their fear?
To them naught that's living can fearful be!
Far off they see an empty boat,
Near them a pallid corpse doth float,
With strange wild eyes and streaming hair,
'Tis the face of the fisher boy lying there!
Soft o'er the forest sinks the night,
In shadows deep wide lies the sea;
In the fisherman's hut who awake can be
Where flickers and flares the light?
In shadows deep wide lies the sea;
In the fisherman's hut who awake can be
Where flickers and flares the light?
Grandmother is weaving a burial wreath,
In the still low room, by the lamp's dim gloom,
As she prays with bated breath;
And the funeral light of a taper is shed,
O'er the bier of the fisher boy dead!
In the still low room, by the lamp's dim gloom,
As she prays with bated breath;
And the funeral light of a taper is shed,
O'er the bier of the fisher boy dead!