Grow the steps and grows the hail. Lord and master hear me call! Ever seems the flood to fill, Ah, he's coming! see, Great is my dismay! Spirits raised by me Vainly would I lay! "To the side Of the room Hasten, broom, As of old! Spirits I have ne'er untied Save to act as they are told." 1797. ----- THE BRIDE OF CORINTH. [First published in Schiller's Horen, in connection with a friendly contest in the art of ballad-writing between the two great poets, to which many of their finest works are owing.] ONCE a stranger youth to Corinth came, Who in Athens lived, but hoped that he From a certain townsman there might claim, As his father's friend, kind courtesy. Son and daughter, they Had been wont to say Should thereafter bride and bridegroom be. But can he that boon so highly prized, Save tis dearly bought, now hope to get? They are Christians and have been baptized, He and all of his are heathens yet. For a newborn creed, Like some loathsome weed, Love and truth to root out oft will threat. Father, daughter, all had gone to rest, And the mother only watches late; She receives with courtesy the guest, And conducts him to the room of state. Wine and food are brought, Ere by him besought; Bidding him good night. she leaves him straight. But he feels no relish now, in truth, For the dainties so profusely spread; Meat and drink forgets the wearied youth, And, still dress'd, he lays him on the bed. Scarce are closed his eyes, When a form in-hies Through the open door with silent tread. By his glimmering lamp discerns he now How, in veil and garment white array'd, With a black and gold band round her brow, Glides into the room a bashful maid. But she, at his sight, Lifts her hand so white, And appears as though full sore afraid. "Am I," cries she, "such a stranger here, That the guest's approach they could not name? Ah, they keep me in my cloister drear, Well nigh feel I vanquish'd by my shame. On thy soft couch now Slumber calmly thou! I'll return as swiftly as I came." "Stay, thou fairest maiden!" cries the boy, Starting from his couch with eager haste: "Here are Ceres', Bacchus' gifts of joy; Amor bringest thou, with beauty grac'd! Thou art pale with fear! Loved one let us here Prove the raptures the Immortals taste." "Draw not nigh, O Youth! afar remain! Rapture now can never smile on me; For the fatal step, alas! is ta'en, Through my mother's sick-bed phantasy. Cured, she made this oath: 'Youth and nature both Shall henceforth to Heav'n devoted be.' "From the house, so silent now, are driven All the gods who reign'd supreme of yore; One Invisible now rules in heaven, On the cross a Saviour they adore. Victims slay they here,