A lovely woman! The pale cheek Spoke of desires that wasted; The hushed lips curved into a smile, That wooed them to be tasted. The nightingale so sweetly sang, I yielded to their wooing; And as I kissed that winning face, I sealed my own undoing. The marble image thrilled with life, The stone began to quiver; She drank my kisses' burning flame With fierce convulsive shiver. She almost drank my breath away; And, to her passion bending, She clasped me close, with her lion claws My hapless body rending. Delicious torture, rapturous pang! The pain, the bliss, unbounded! Her lips, their kiss was heaven to me, Her claws, oh, how they wounded. The nightingale sang: "O beauteous Sphinx! O love, love! say, why this is, That with the anguish of death itself Thou minglest all thy blisses? "Oh beauteous Sphinx, oh, answer me, That riddle strange unloosing! For many, many thousand years Have I on it been musing!" GERMANY[44] (1842) Germany's still a little child, But he's nursed by the sun, though tender; He is not suckled on soothing milk, But on flames of burning splendor. One grows apace on such a diet; It fires the blood from languor. Ye neighbors' children, have a care This urchin how ye anger! He is an awkward infant giant; The oak by the roots uptearing, He'll beat you till your backs are sore, And crack your crowns for daring. He is like Siegfried, the noble child, That song-and-saga wonder; Who, when his fabled sword was forged, His anvil cleft in sunder! To you, who will our Dragon slay, Shall Siegfried's strength be given. Hurrah! how joyfully your nurse Will laugh on you from heaven! The Dragon's hoard of royal gems You'll win, with none to share it. Hurrah! how bright the golden crown Will sparkle when you wear it! * * * * * ENFANT PERDU[45] (1851) In Freedom's War, of "Thirty Years" and more, A lonely outpost have I held--in vain! With no triumphant hope or prize in store, Without a thought to see my home again. I watched both day and night; I could not sleep Like my well-tented comrades far behind, Though near enough to let their snoring keep A friend awake, if e'er to doze inclined. And thus, when solitude my spirits shook, Or fear--for all but fools know fear sometimes-- To rouse myself and them, I piped and took A gay revenge in all my wanton rhymes. Yes! there I stood, my musket always ready, And when some sneaking rascal showed his head, My eye was vigilant, my aim was steady, And gave his brains an extra dose of lead. But war and justice have far different laws, And worthless acts are often done right well; The rascals' shots were better than their cause, And I was hit--and hit again, and fell!