INVOCATION 141 INVOCATION "I called on dreams and visions, to disclose That which is veiled from waking thought; conjured To appear and answer."-WORDSWORTH. ANSWER me, burning Stars of night! That past the reach of human sight O many-toned and chainless Wind! Ye clouds that gorgeously repose Answer! have ye a home for those The bright Clouds answered-"We depart, Ask what is deathless in thy heart, For that which cannot die." Speak then, thou Voice of God within; Answer me, through life's restless din- And the voice answered-"Be thou still! Clouds, winds, and stars their part fulfil— KOERNER AND HIS SISTER CHARLES THEODORE KÖRNER, the celebrated young German poet and soldier, was killed in a skirmish with a detachment of French troops on the 20th of August 1813, a few hours after the composition of his popular piece, The Sword-Song. He was buried at the village of Wöbbelin in Mecklenburg, under a beautiful oak, in a recess of which he had frequently deposited verses composed by him while campaigning in its vicinity. The monument erected to his memory is of castiron; and the upper part is wrought into a lyre and sword, a favourite emblem of Körner's, from which one of his works had been entitled. Near the grave of the poet is that of his only sister, who died of grief for his loss, having only survived him long enough to complete his portrait and a drawing of his burial - place. Over the gate of the cemetery is engraved one of his own lines: "Vergiss die treuen Todten nicht." GREEN wave the oak for ever o'er thy rest, KOERNER AND HIS SISTER Rest, bard! rest, soldier! By the father's hand In the hushed presence of the glorious dead- The oak waved proudly o'er thy burial rite, 143 On thy crowned bier to slumber warriors bore thee, And with true hearts thy brethren of the fight Wept as they veiled their drooping banners o'er thee; And the deep guns with rolling peal gave token That Lyre and Sword were broken. Thou hast a hero's tomb a lowlier bed Is hers, the gentle girl beside thee lyingThe gentle girl that bowed her fair young head When thou wert gone, in silent sorrow dying. Fame was thy gift from others ;-but for her, It was thy spirit, brother! which had made The bright earth glorious to her youthful eye, Since first in childhood midst the vines ye played, And sent glad singing through the free blue sky. Ye were but two-and when that spirit passed, Woe to the one, the last! Woe, yet not long! She lingered but to trace But smile upon her, ere she went to rest. The earth grew silent when thy voice departed, The home too lonely whence thy step had fled; Have ye not met ere now?-so let those trust That meet for moments but to part for yearsThat weep, watch, pray, to hold back dust from dustThat love, where love is but a fount of tears. Brother! sweet sister! peace around ye dwell : Lyre, Sword, and Flower, farewell! THE DEATH-DAY OF KOERNER A SONG for the death-day of the brave- The youth went down to a hero's grave, He went, with his noble heart unworn, An eagle stooping from clouds of morn, THE DEATH-DAY OF KOERNER 145 He went with the lyre, whose lofty tone Beneath his hand Had thrilled to the name of his God alone And with all his glorious feelings yet In their first glow, Like a southern stream that no frost hath met A song for the death-day of the brave-- For him that went to a hero's grave, He hath left a voice in his trumpet-lays And a guiding spirit for after days, And a grief in his father's soul to rest, And a memory unto his mother's breast, And a name and fame above the blight Of earthly breath, In life and death! A song for the death-day of the brave A song of pride! For him that went to a hero's grave, A K |