Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Germany: Vols. XVII–XVIII. 1876–79.
The Black Knight
By Johann Ludwig Uhland (17871862)’T
When woods and fields put off all sadness.
Thus began the king and spake:
“So from the halls
Of ancient Hofburg’s walls
A luxuriant spring shall break.”
Wave the crimson banners proudly.
From balcony the king looked on;
In the play of spears
Fell all the cavaliers
Before the monarch’s stalwart son.
Rode at last a sable knight.
“Sir Knight! your name and scutcheon, say!”
“Should I speak it here,
Ye would stand aghast with fear;
I ’m a prince of mighty sway!”
The arch of heaven grew black with mists,
And the castle ’gan to rock.
At the first blow
Fell the youth from saddle-bow,—
Hardly rises from the shock.
Torchlight through the high halls glances,
Waves a mighty shadow in;
With manner bland
Doth ask the maiden’s hand,
Doth with her the dance begin;
Danced a measure weird and dark,
Coldly clasped her limbs around.
From breast and hair
Down fall from her the fair
Flowerets, faded, to the ground.
Every knight and every dame.
’Twixt son and daughter all distraught,
With mournful mind
The ancient king reclined,
Gazed at them in silent thought.
But the guest a beaker took:
“Golden wine will make you whole!”
The children drank,
Gave many a courteous thank:
“O, that draught was very cool!”
Son and daughter; and their faces
Colorless grow utterly.
Whichever way
Looks the fear-struck father gray,
He beholds his children die.
Takest thou in the joy of youth;
Take me, too, the joyless father!”
Spake the grim guest,
From his hollow, cavernous breast:
“Roses in the spring I gather!”