WANDERER
Young woman, may God bless thee,
Thee, and the sucking infant
Upon thy breast!
Let me, 'gainst this rocky wall,
Neath the elm-tree's shadow,
Lay aside my burden,
Near thee take my rest.
WOMAN
What vocation leads thee,
While the day is burning,
Up this dusty path?
Bring'st thou goods from out the town
Round the country?
Smil'st thou, stranger,
At my question?
WANDERER
From the town no goods I bring.
Cool is now the evening;
Show to me the fountain
Whence thou drinkest,
Woman young and kind!
WOMAN
Up the rocky pathway mount;
Go thou first! Across the thicket
Leads the pathway tow'rd the cottage
That I live in,
To the fountain
Whence I drink.
WANDERER
Signs of man's arranging hand
See I 'mid the trees!
Not by thee these stones were join'd,
Nature, who so freely scatterest!
WOMAN
Up, still up!
WANDERER
Lo, a mossy architrave is here!
I discern thee, fashioning spirit!
On the stone thou hast impress'd thy seal.
WOMAN
Onward, stranger!
WANDERER
Over an inscription am I treading!
'Tis effaced!
Ye are seen no longer,
Words so deeply graven,
Who your master's true devotion
Should have shown to thousand grandsons!
WOMAN
At these stones, why
Start'st thou, stranger?
Many stones are lying yonder
Round my cottage.
WANDERER
Yonder?
WOMAN
Through the thicket,
Turning to the left,
Here!
WANDERER
Ye Muses and ye Gracos!
WOMAN
This, then, is my cottage.
WANDERER
'Tis a ruin'd temple!
WOMAN
Just below it, see,
Springs the fountain
Whence I drink.
WANDERER
Thou dost hover
O'er thy grave, all glowing,
Genius! while upon thee
Hath thy master-piece
Fallen crumbling,
Thou Immortal One!
WOMAN
Stay, a cup I'll fetch thee
Whence to drink.
WANDERER
Ivy circles thy slender
Form so graceful and godlike.
How ye rise on high
From the ruins,
Column-pair!
And thou, their lonely sister yonder, —
How thou,
Dusky moas upon thy sacred head, —
Lookest down in mournful majesty
On thy brethren's figures
Lying scatter'd
At thy feet!
In the shadow of the bramble
Earth and rubbish veil them,
Lofty grass is waving o'er them!
Is it thus thou, Nature, prizest
Thy great masterpiece's masterpiece?
Carelessly destroyest thou
Thine own sanctuary,
Sowing thistles there?
WOMAN
How the infant sleeps!
Wilt thou rest thee in the cottage,
Stranger? Wouldst thou rather
In the open air still linger?
Now 'tis cool! take thou the child
While I go and draw some water.
Sleep on, darling! sleep!
WANDERER
Sweet is thy repose!
How, with heaven-born health imbued,
Peacefully he slumbers!
Oh thou, born among the ruins
Spread by great antiquity,
On thee rest her spirit!
He whom it encircles
Will, in godlike consciousness,
Ev'ry day enjoy.
Full of germ, unfold,
As the smiling springtime's
Fairest charm,
Outshining all thy fellows!
And when the blossom's husk is faded,
May the full fruit shoot forth
From out thy breast,
And ripen in the sunshine!
WOMAN
God bless him! — Is he sleeping still?
To the fresh draught I nought can add,
Saving a crust of bread for thee to eat.
WANDERER
I thank thee well.
How fair the verdure all around!
How green!
WOMAN
My husband soon
Will home return
From labour. Tarry, tarry, man,
And with us eat our evening meal.
WANDERER
Is't here ye dwell?
WOMAN
Yonder, within those walls we live.
My father 'twas who built the cottage
Of tiles and stones from out the ruins.
'Tis here we dwell.
He gave me to a husbandman,
And in our arms expired. —
Hast thou been sleeping, dearest heart?
How lively, and how full of play!
Sweet rogue!
WANDERER
Nature, thou ever budding one,
Thou formest each for life's enjoyments,
And, like a mother, all thy children dear,
Blessest with that sweet heritage, — a home!
The swallow builds the cornice round,
Unconscious of the beauties
She plasters up.
The caterpillar spins around the bough,
To make her brood a winter house;
And thou dost patch, between antiquity's
Most glorious relics,
For thy mean use,
Oh man, a humble cot, —
Enjoyest e'en mid tombs! —
Farewell, thou happy woman!
WOMAN
Thou wilt not stay, then?
WANDERER
May God preserve thee,
And bless thy boy!
WOMAN
A happy journey!
WANDERER
Whither conducts the path
Across yon hill?
WOMAN
To Cuma.
WANDERER
How far from hence?
WOMAN
'Tis full three miles.
WANDERER
Farewell!
Oh Nature, guide me on my way!
The wandering stranger guide,
Who o'er the tombs
Of holy bygone times
Is passing,
To a kind sheltering place,
From North winds safe,
And where a poplar grove
Shuts out the noontide ray!
And when I come
Home to my cot
At evening,
Illumined by the setting sun,
Let me embrace a wife like this,
Her infant in her arms!
Young woman, may God bless thee,
Thee, and the sucking infant
Upon thy breast!
Let me, 'gainst this rocky wall,
Neath the elm-tree's shadow,
Lay aside my burden,
Near thee take my rest.
WOMAN
What vocation leads thee,
While the day is burning,
Up this dusty path?
Bring'st thou goods from out the town
Round the country?
Smil'st thou, stranger,
At my question?
WANDERER
From the town no goods I bring.
Cool is now the evening;
Show to me the fountain
Whence thou drinkest,
Woman young and kind!
WOMAN
Up the rocky pathway mount;
Go thou first! Across the thicket
Leads the pathway tow'rd the cottage
That I live in,
To the fountain
Whence I drink.
WANDERER
Signs of man's arranging hand
See I 'mid the trees!
Not by thee these stones were join'd,
Nature, who so freely scatterest!
WOMAN
Up, still up!
WANDERER
Lo, a mossy architrave is here!
I discern thee, fashioning spirit!
On the stone thou hast impress'd thy seal.
WOMAN
Onward, stranger!
WANDERER
Over an inscription am I treading!
'Tis effaced!
Ye are seen no longer,
Words so deeply graven,
Who your master's true devotion
Should have shown to thousand grandsons!
WOMAN
At these stones, why
Start'st thou, stranger?
Many stones are lying yonder
Round my cottage.
WANDERER
Yonder?
WOMAN
Through the thicket,
Turning to the left,
Here!
WANDERER
Ye Muses and ye Gracos!
WOMAN
This, then, is my cottage.
WANDERER
'Tis a ruin'd temple!
WOMAN
Just below it, see,
Springs the fountain
Whence I drink.
WANDERER
Thou dost hover
O'er thy grave, all glowing,
Genius! while upon thee
Hath thy master-piece
Fallen crumbling,
Thou Immortal One!
WOMAN
Stay, a cup I'll fetch thee
Whence to drink.
WANDERER
Ivy circles thy slender
Form so graceful and godlike.
How ye rise on high
From the ruins,
Column-pair!
And thou, their lonely sister yonder, —
How thou,
Dusky moas upon thy sacred head, —
Lookest down in mournful majesty
On thy brethren's figures
Lying scatter'd
At thy feet!
In the shadow of the bramble
Earth and rubbish veil them,
Lofty grass is waving o'er them!
Is it thus thou, Nature, prizest
Thy great masterpiece's masterpiece?
Carelessly destroyest thou
Thine own sanctuary,
Sowing thistles there?
WOMAN
How the infant sleeps!
Wilt thou rest thee in the cottage,
Stranger? Wouldst thou rather
In the open air still linger?
Now 'tis cool! take thou the child
While I go and draw some water.
Sleep on, darling! sleep!
WANDERER
Sweet is thy repose!
How, with heaven-born health imbued,
Peacefully he slumbers!
Oh thou, born among the ruins
Spread by great antiquity,
On thee rest her spirit!
He whom it encircles
Will, in godlike consciousness,
Ev'ry day enjoy.
Full of germ, unfold,
As the smiling springtime's
Fairest charm,
Outshining all thy fellows!
And when the blossom's husk is faded,
May the full fruit shoot forth
From out thy breast,
And ripen in the sunshine!
WOMAN
God bless him! — Is he sleeping still?
To the fresh draught I nought can add,
Saving a crust of bread for thee to eat.
WANDERER
I thank thee well.
How fair the verdure all around!
How green!
WOMAN
My husband soon
Will home return
From labour. Tarry, tarry, man,
And with us eat our evening meal.
WANDERER
Is't here ye dwell?
WOMAN
Yonder, within those walls we live.
My father 'twas who built the cottage
Of tiles and stones from out the ruins.
'Tis here we dwell.
He gave me to a husbandman,
And in our arms expired. —
Hast thou been sleeping, dearest heart?
How lively, and how full of play!
Sweet rogue!
WANDERER
Nature, thou ever budding one,
Thou formest each for life's enjoyments,
And, like a mother, all thy children dear,
Blessest with that sweet heritage, — a home!
The swallow builds the cornice round,
Unconscious of the beauties
She plasters up.
The caterpillar spins around the bough,
To make her brood a winter house;
And thou dost patch, between antiquity's
Most glorious relics,
For thy mean use,
Oh man, a humble cot, —
Enjoyest e'en mid tombs! —
Farewell, thou happy woman!
WOMAN
Thou wilt not stay, then?
WANDERER
May God preserve thee,
And bless thy boy!
WOMAN
A happy journey!
WANDERER
Whither conducts the path
Across yon hill?
WOMAN
To Cuma.
WANDERER
How far from hence?
WOMAN
'Tis full three miles.
WANDERER
Farewell!
Oh Nature, guide me on my way!
The wandering stranger guide,
Who o'er the tombs
Of holy bygone times
Is passing,
To a kind sheltering place,
From North winds safe,
And where a poplar grove
Shuts out the noontide ray!
And when I come
Home to my cot
At evening,
Illumined by the setting sun,
Let me embrace a wife like this,
Her infant in her arms!
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