FRAGMENTS FROM THE IPHIGENIA. 301 fully submitted will. Akin to the spirit of such creations is that of the awful but irregular Faust, and other works of Goethe, in which the restless questionings, the lofty aspirations, and dark misgivings of the human soul, are perpetually called up to "come like shadows, so depart," across the stormy splendours of the scene; and the mind is engaged in ceaseless conflict with the interminable mysteries of life. It is otherwise with the work before us; overshadowed, as it were, by the dark wings of the inflexible destiny which hovers above the children of Tantalus, the spirit of the imaginary personages, as well as of the reader, here moves acquiescently within the prescribed circle of events, and is seldom tempted beyond, to plunge into the abyss of general speculations upon the lot of humanity. * FRAGMENTS FROM THE IPHIGENIA. I. JOY OF PYLADES ON HEARING HIS NATIVE LANGUAGE. Он, sweetest voice! Oh, bless'd familiar sound II. EXCLAMATIONS OF IPHIGENIA ON SEEING HER BROTHER Oh hear me, look upon me! how my heart, After long desolation, now unfolds Unto this new delight, to kiss thy head, Thou dearest, dearest one of all on earth! To clasp thee with my arms, which were but thrown III. LOT OF MAN AND WOMAN COMPARED BY IPHIGENIA. Man by the battle's hour immortalized In passionate adjurings, vain desires, FRAGMENTS FROM THE IPHIGENIA. 303 IV. LONGING OF ORESTES FOR REPOSE. One draught from Lethe's flood! reach me One last cool goblet fill'd with dewy peace! Ye dead! Ye dwellers of the eternal cloud, For evermore. one V. CONTINUATION OF ORESTES' SOLILOQUY. Hark! in the trembling leaves Mysterious whispers: hark! a rushing sound come, They throng to greet their guest! and who are they! As a king's children gather'd for the hour And kindred-like, and godlike, on they pass, THE HUGUENOT'S FAREWELL. I STAND upon the threshold stone Of mine ancestral hall; I hear my native river moan; I see the night o'er my old forests fall. I look round on the darkening vale That saw my childhood's plays: The low wind in its rising wail Hath a strange tone, a sound of other days. But I must rule my swelling breast: A sign is in the sky; Bright o'er yon grey rock's eagle nest Shines forth a warning star-it bids me fly. My father's sword is in my hand, His deep voice haunts mine ear; He tells me of the noble band Whose lives have left a brooding glory here. He bids their offspring guard from stain Their pure and lofty faith; And yield up all things, to maintain The cause for which they girt themselves to death. And I obey.-I leave their towers Unto the stranger's tread; Unto the creeping grass and flowers; Unto the fading pictures of the dead. THE HUGUENOT'S FAREWELL. I leave their shields to slow decay, Their banners to the dust; I go, and only bear away I Their old majestic name— a solemn trust! go up to the ancient hills, Where chains may never be, Where leap in joy the torrent rills, 305 Where man may worship God, alone and free. There shall an altar and a camp Impregnably arise; There shall be lit a quenchless lamp, To shine, unwavering, through the open skies. And song shall 'midst the rocks be heard, While, thrilling to God's holy word, The mountain pines in adoration bend. And there the burning heart no more Free currents thence, amidst the wilderness. Then fare thee well, my mother's bower, Perish my home! where lawless power Perish let deathlike silence fall Spread fast, dark ivy, spread thy pall;- |