For to taste the breadThere before them spread,Nought he spoke could make the maid incline.
To the youth the goblet then she brought,--He too quaff'd with eager joy the bowl.
Love to crown the silent feast he sought,Ah! full love-sick was the stripling's soul.
From his prayer she shrinks,Till at length he sinksOn the bed and weeps without control.
And she comes, and lays her near the boy:
"How I grieve to see thee sorrowing so!
If thou think'st to clasp my form with joy,Thou must learn this secret sad to know;Yes! the maid, whom thouCall'st thy loved one now,Is as cold as ice, though white as snow."Then he clasps her madly in his arm,While love's youthful might pervades his frame:
"Thou might'st hope, when with me, to grow warm,E'en if from the grave thy spirit came!
Breath for breath, and kiss!
Overflow of bliss!
Dost not thou, like me, feel passion's flame?"Love still closer rivets now their lips,Tears they mingle with their rapture blest, From his mouth the flame she wildly sips,Each is with the other's thought possess'd.
His hot ardour's floodWarms her chilly blood,But no heart is beating in her breast.
In her care to see that nought went wrong,Now the mother happen'd to draw near;At the door long hearkens she, full long,Wond'ring at the sounds that greet her ear.
Tones of joy and sadness,And love's blissful madness,As of bride and bridegroom they appear,From the door she will not now remove'Till she gains full certainty of this;And with anger hears she vows of love,Soft caressing words of mutual bliss.
"Hush! the cock's loud strain!
But thoult come again,When the night returns!"--then kiss on kiss.
Then her wrath the mother cannot hold,But unfastens straight the lock with ease "In this house are girls become so bold,As to seek e'en strangers' lusts to please?"By her lamp's clear glowLooks she in,--and oh!
Sight of horror!--'tis her child she sees.
Fain the youth would, in his first alarm,With the veil that o'er her had been spread, With the carpet, shield his love from harm;But she casts them from her, void of dread,And with spirit's strength,In its spectre length,Lifts her figure slowly from the bed.
"Mother! mother!"--Thus her wan lips say:
"May not I one night of rapture share?
From the warm couch am I chased away?
Do I waken only to despair?
It contents not theeTo have driven meAn untimely shroud of death to wear?
"But from out my coffin's prison-boundsBy a wond'rous fate I'm forced to rove, While the blessings and the chaunting soundsThat your priests delight in, useless prove.
Water, salt, are vainFervent youth to chain,Ah, e'en Earth can never cool down love!
"When that infant vow of love was spoken,Venus' radiant temple smiled on both.
Mother! thou that promise since hast broken,Fetter'd by a strange, deceitful oath.
Gods, though, hearken ne'er,Should a mother swearTo deny her daughter's plighted troth.
From my grave to wander I am forc'd,Still to seek The Good's long-sever'd link, Still to love the bridegroom I have lost,And the life-blood of his heart to drink;When his race is run,I must hasten on,And the young must 'neath my vengeance sink,"Beauteous youth! no longer mayst thou live;Here must shrivel up thy form so fair;
Did not I to thee a token give,Taking in return this lock of hair?
View it to thy sorrow!
Grey thoult be to-morrow,Only to grow brown again when there.
"Mother, to this final prayer give ear!
Let a funeral pile be straightway dress'd;Open then my cell so sad and drear,That the flames may give the lovers rest!
When ascends the fireFrom the glowing pyre,To the gods of old we'll hasten, blest."1797.
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