IDEA OF LAW IX POETRY ?13 



There in old time stood a castle. 

 Feasts were held and arms would glance; 

 Knights, and squires, and noble ladies 

 Used to thread the torchlight dance. 



But it chanced a wicked sorceress 

 Cast her spell on tower and guest; 

 Now there's nothing left but ruins, 

 Where the owlets build their nest. 



Aunt, who's now in heaven, told me 

 That the proper word of doom, 

 At the proper hour of midnight, 

 Spoken in the proper room. 



It will turn those ancient ruins 

 Into castle halls once more; 

 Knights, and squires, and noble ladies 

 Dance as gaily as of yore. 



And whoe'er he be that speaks it, 

 Tower and people at that word, 

 With the sound of drum and trumpet, 

 Shall proclaim their youthful lord. 



Xot only in Goethe and Heine do you hear this note of genuine 

 lyric 'inspiration. It is of the essence of the poems of Uhland and 

 many another less known singer who has taken the rough diamonds 

 of suggestion from the Yolks-Lied and polished them into gems of art. 

 Let me venture to give you one more specimen from the songs of Wil- 

 helm Miiller, father of the eminent Professor of Comparative Philo- 

 logy, which will show you, even in the imperfect mirror of our own 

 language, with what exquisite skill the German lyric poets link uni- 

 versal sentiments with images drawn from the traditions of the people. 

 The subject of the poem is Vineta, an old town said by German legend 

 to lie buried beneath the Baltic: 



Often on the evening silence stealing 

 From the sea-depths, fathoms, fathoms down, 

 Bells sound faintly wondrous tidings pealing 

 Of the old-world, ocean-buried, town. 



There it stands for ever, ruins hoary, 

 Undecaying in their billowy grave ; 

 From the bulwarks flakes of golden glory 

 Rise, and paint the mirror of the wave. 



And the fisher who, at red of even. 

 Once has seen that vision near the shore, 

 Heedless of dark cliff and frowning heaven, 

 Haunts the enchanted spot for evermore. 



