A ballad.
What knight or what vassal
will be so bold
As to plunge in the gulf below?
See! I hurl in its depths a goblet of gold,
Already the waters over it flow.
The man who can bring back the goblet to me,
May keep it henceforward,-his own it
shall be.
Thus speaks the king, and he hurls
from the height
Of the cliffs that, rugged and steep,
Hang over the boundless sea, with strong might,
The goblet afar, in the bellowing deep.
And wholl be so daring,-I
ask it once more,-
As to plunge in these billows that wildly roar?
And the vassals and knights of high
degree
Hear his words, but silent
remain.
They cast their eyes on the raging
sea,
And none will attempt the
goblet to gain.
And a third time the question is
asked by the king:
Is there none that will dare
in the gulf now to spring?
Yet all as before in silence stand,
When a page, with a modest
pride,
Steps out of the timorous squirely
band,
And his girdle and mantle
soon throws aside,
And all the knights, and the ladies
too,
The noble stripling with wonderment
view.
And when he draws nigh to the rocky
brow,
And looks in the gulf so black,
The waters that she had swallowed
but now,
The howling Charybdis is giving
back;
And, with the distant thunders
dull sound.
From her gloomy womb they all-foaming
rebound.
And it boils and it roars, and it
hisses and seethes,
As when water and fire first
blend;
To the sky spurts the foam in steam-laden
wreaths,
And wave presses hard upon
wave without end.
And the ocean will never exhausted
be,
As if striving to bring forth another
sea.
But at length the wild tumult seems
pacified,
And blackly amid the white
swell
A gaping chasm its jaws opens wide,
As if leading down to the
depths of hell:
And the howling billows are seen
by each eye
Down the whirling funnel all madly
to fly.
Then quickly, before the breakers
rebound,
The stripling commends him
to Heaven,
And-a scream of horror
is heard around,-
And now by the whirlpool away
he is driven,
And secretly over the swimmer brave
Close the jaws, and he vanishes
neath the dark wave.
Oer the watery gulf dread
silence now lies,
But the deep sends up a dull
yell,
And from mouth to mouth thus trembling
it flies:
Courageous stripling,
oh, fare thee well!
And duller and duller the howls
recommence,
While they pause in anxious and
fearful suspense.
If even thy crown in the
gulf thou shouldst fling,
And shouldst say, He
who brings it to me
Shall wear it henceforward, and
be the king,
Thou couldst tempt me not
een with that precious foe;
What under the howling deep is concealed
To no happy living soul is revealed!
Full many a ship, by the whirlpool
held fast,
Shoots straightway beneath
the mad wave,
And, dashed to pieces, the hull
and the mast
Emerge from the all-devouring
grave,-
And the roaring approaches still
nearer and nearer,
Like the howl of the tempest, still
clearer and clearer.
And it boils and it roars, and it
hisses and seethes,
As when water and fire first
blend;
To the sky spurts the foam in steam-laden
wreaths,
And wave passes hard upon
wave without end.
And, with the distant thunders
dull sound,
From the ocean-womb they all-bellowing
bound.
And lo! from the darkly flowing
tide
Comes a vision white as a swan,
And an arm and a glistening neck
are descried,
With might and with active zeal
steering on;
And tis he, and behold! his
left hand on high
Waves the goblet, while beaming
with joy is his eye.
Then breathes he deeply, then breathes
he long,
And blesses the light of the day;
While gladly exclaim to each other
the throng:
He lives! he is here! he
is not the seas prey!
From the tomb, from the eddying
waters control,
The brave one has rescued his living
soul!
And he comes, and they joyously
round him stand;
At the feet of the monarch
he falls,-
The goblet he, kneeling, puts in
his hand,
And the king to his beauteous
daughter calls,
Who fills it with sparkling wine
to the brim;
The youth turns to the monarch,
and speaks thus to him:
Long life to the king!
Let all those be glad
Who breathe in the light of
the sky!
For below all is fearful, of moment
sad;
Let not man to tempt the immortals
eer try,
Let him never desire the thing to
see
That with terror and night they
veil graciously.
I was torn below with the
speed of light,
When out of a cavern of rock
Rushed towards me a spring with
furious might;
I was seized by the twofold
torrents wild shock,
And like a top, with a whirl and
a bound,
Despite all resistance, was whirled
around.
Then God pointed out,-for
to Him I cried
In that terrible moment of
need,-
A craggy reef in the gulfs
dark side;
I seized it in haste, and
from death was then freed.
And there, on sharp corals,
was hanging the cup,-
The fathomless pit had else swallowed
it up.
For under me lay it, still
mountain-deep,
In a darkness of purple-tinged
dye,
And though to the ear all might
seem then asleep
With shuddering awe twas
seen by the eye
How the salamanders and dragons
dread forms
Filled those terrible jaws of hell
with their swarms.
There crowded, in union fearful
and black,
In a horrible mass entwined,
The rock-fish, the ray with the
thorny back,
And the hammer-fishs
misshapen kind,
And the shark, the hyena dread of
the sea,
With his angry teeth, grinned fiercely
on me.
There hung I, by fulness
of terror possessed,
Where all human aid was unknown,
Amongst phantoms, the only sensitive
breast,
In that fearful solitude all
alone,
Where the voice of mankind could
not reach to mine ear,
Mid the monsters foul of
that wilderness drear.
Thus shuddering methought-when
a something crawled near,
And a hundred limbs it out-flung,
And at me it snapped;-in
my mortal fear,
I left hold of the coral to
which I had clung;
Then the whirlpool seized on me
with maddened roar,
Yet twas well, for it brought
me to light once more.
The story in wonderment hears the
king,
And he says, The cup
is thine own,
And I purpose also to give thee
this ring,
Adorned with a costly, a priceless
stone,
If thoult try once again,
and bring word to me
What thou sawst in the nethermost
depths of the sea.
His daughter hears this with emotions
soft,
And with flattering accent
prays she:
That fearful sport, father,
attempt not too oft!
What none other would dare,
he hath ventured for thee;
If thy hearts wild longings
thou canst not tame,
Let the knights, if they can, put
the squire to shame.
The king then seizes the goblet
in haste,
In the gulf he hurls it with
might:
When the goblet once more
in my hands thou hast placed,
Thou shalt rank at my court
as the noblest knight,
And her as a bride thou shalt clasp
een to-day,
Who for thee with tender compassion
doth pray.
Then a force, as from Heaven, descends
on him there,
And lightning gleams in his
eye,
And blushes he sees on her features
so fair,
And he sees her turn pale,
and swooning lie;
Then eager the precious guerdon
to win,
For life or for death, lo! he plunges
him in!
The breakers they hear, and the
breakers return,
Proclaimed by a thundering
sound;
They bend oer the gulf with
glances that yearn,
And the waters are pouring
in fast around;
Though upwards and downwards they
rush and they rave,
The youth is brought back by no
kindly wave.
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