Far too soon of the bliss pure contemplation affords. Mighty, indeed, are these figures! these limbs, how gracefully rounded! Theseus, could'st thou e'er fly, whilst Ariadne thus slept? Only one single kiss on these lips! Oh, Theseus, now leave us! Gaze on her eyes! she awakes--Firmly she holds thee embrac'd ----- PART II. ALEXIS AND DORA. [This beautiful poem was first published in Schiller's Horen.] FARTHER and farther away, alas! at each moment the vessel Hastens, as onward it glides, cleaving the foam-cover'd flood! Long is the track plough'd up by the keel where dolphins are sporting, Following fast in its rear, while it seems flying pursuit. All forebodes a prosperous voyage; the sailor with calmness Leans 'gainst the sail, which alone all that is needed performs. Forward presses the heart of each seamen, like colours and streamers; Backward one only is seen, mournfully fix'd near the mast, While on the blue tinged mountains, which fast are receding, he gazeth, And as they sink in the sea, joy from his bosom departs. Vanish'd from thee, too, oh Dora, is now the vessel that robs thee Of thine Alexis, thy friend,--ah, thy betrothed as well! Thou, too, art after me gazing in vain. Our hearts are still throbbing, Though, for each other, yet ah! 'gainst one another no more. Oh, thou single moment, wherein I found life! thou outweighest Every day which had else coldly from memory fled. 'Twas in that moment alone, the last, that upon me descended Life, such as deities grant, though thou perceived'st it not. Phoebus, in vain with thy rays dost thou clothe the ether in glory: Thine all-brightening day hateful alone is to me. Into myself I retreat for shelter, and there, in the silence, Strive to recover the time when she appear'd with each day. Was it possible beauty like this to see, and not feel it? Work'd not those heavenly charms e'en on a mind dull as thine? Blame not thyself, unhappy one! Oft doth the bard an enigma Thus propose to the throng, skillfully hidden in words. Each one enjoys the strange commingling of images graceful, Yet still is wanting the word which will discover the sense. When at length it is found, the heart of each hearer is gladden'd, And in the poem he sees meaning of twofold delight. Wherefore so late didst thou remove the bandage, oh Amor, Which thou hadst placed o'er mine eyes,--wherefore remove it so late? Long did the vessel, when laden, lie waiting for favouring breezes, 'Till in kindness the wind blew from the land o'er the sea. Vacant times of youth! and vacant dreams of the future! Ye all vanish, and nought, saving the moment, remains. Yes! it remains,--my joy still remains! I hold thee; my Dora, And thine image alone, Dora, by hope is disclos'd. Oft have I seen thee go, with modesty clad, to the temple, While thy mother so dear solemnly went by thy side. Eager and nimble thou wert, in bearing thy fruit to the market,