How once, one glorious essence as a God, Unmeasured space our chainless footsteps trode-- All Nature our abode! Round us, in waters of delight, for ever Voluptuous flow'd the heavenly Nectar river; We were the master of the seal of things, And where the sunshine bathed Truth's mountain-springs Quiver'd our glancing wings. Weep for the godlike life we lost afar-- Weep!--thou and I its scatter'd fragments are; And still the unconquer'd yearning we retain-- Sigh to restore the rapture and the reign, And grow divine again. And therefore came to me the wish to woo thee-- Still, lip to lip, to cling for aye unto thee; _This_ made thy glances to my soul the link-- _This_ made me burn thy very breath to drink-- My life in thine to sink: And therefore, as before the conqueror's glaive, Flies, without strife subdued, the ready slave, So, when to life's unguarded fort, I see Thy gaze draw near and near triumphantly-- Yieldeth my soul to thee! Therefore my soul doth from its lord depart, _Because_, beloved, its native home thou art; Because the twins recall the links they bore, And soul with soul, in the sweet kiss of yore, Meets and unites once more. Thou too--Ah, there thy gaze upon me dwells, And thy young blush the tender answer tells; Yes! with the dear relation still we thrill, Both lives--tho' exiles from the homeward hill-- _One_ life--all glowing still! * * * * * TO LAURA. (Rapture.) Laura--above this world methinks I fly, And feel the glow of some May-lighted sky, When thy looks beam on mine! And my soul drinks a more ethereal air, When mine own shape I see reflected there, In those blue eyes of thine! A lyre-sound from the Paradise afar, A harp-note trembling from some gracious star, Seems the wild ear to fill; And my muse feels the Golden Shepherd-hours, When from thy lips the silver music pours Slow, as against its will. I see the young Loves flutter on the wing-- Move the charm'd trees, as when the Thracian's string Wild life to forests gave; Swifter the globe's swift circle seems to fly, When in the whirling dance thou glidest by, Light as a happy wave. Thy looks, when there love sheds the loving smile, Could from the senseless marble life beguile-- Lend rocks a pulse divine; Into a dream my very being dies, I can but read--for ever read--thine eyes-- Laura, sweet Laura, mine![13] [Footnote 13: We confess we cannot admire the sagacity of those who have contended that Schiller's passion for Laura was purely Platonic.] * * * * * TO LAURA PLAYING.