Volume 5 / Book 3 — MAXIMILIAN GOTTFRIED VON SCHENKENDORF

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THE MOTHER TONGUE[14] (1814)

Mother tongue, oh, tongue most dear, Sweet and gladsome to mine ear! Word that first I heard, endearing Word of love, first timid sound That I stammered—still I'm hearing Thee within my soul profound.

Oh, my heart will ever grieve When my Fatherland I leave, For in foreign tongues repeating Words of strangers, I lose cheer. Oh, they seem not like a greeting, And I'll never hold them dear.

Speech so wonderful to hear— How thou ringest pure and clear! Though thy beauty hath enthralled me, Still I'll deepen my delight, Awed, as if my fathers called me From the grave's eternal night.

Ring on ever, tongue of old, Tongue of lovers, heroes bold! Rise, old song, though lost for ages, From thy secret tomb, and go Live again in sacred pages, Set all hearts once more aglow.

Breath of God is everywhere, Custom sacred here as there. Yet when I give thanks, am praying, A beloved heart would seek, When my highest thoughts I'm saying— Then my mother tongue I speak.

[Illustration: MAXIMILIAN GOTTFRIED VON SCHENKENDORF]

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SPRING GREETING TO THE FATHERLAND[15] (1814)

Fatherland, thy pleasures greet me After bondage, war's distress! I must steep my soul completely Here in all thy gorgeousness. Where the oak-trees murmur mildly With their crowns to heaven raised, Mighty streams are roaring wildly— There the German land be praised.

From the Rhinefall, all delighted, I have walked, from Danube's spring; Mildly, in my soul benighted Love-stars rose, illumining; Now I would descend, and brightly Radiate a joyous shine Into Neckar's valleys sprightly, O'er the blue and silver Main.

Onward fly, my message, bringing Freedom's greeting evermore, Far away thou shalt be ringing By my home on Memel's shore. Where the German tongue is spoken, Hearts have fought to make her free— Fought right gladly—there unbroken Stays our sacred Germany.

All with sunlight seems a-blazing, All things seem adorned with green— Pastures where the herds are grazing, Hills where ripening grapes are seen. Such a spring time has not graced thee, Fatherland, for thousand years; Glory of thy fathers faced thee Once in dreams, and now appears.

Once more weapons must be wielded; Go, a spirit-fray begin, Till the latest foe has yielded— He who threatens you within. Passions vile ye should be blighting, Hate, suspicion, envy, greed— Then take, after heavy fighting, German hearts, the rest ye need.

Then shall all men be possessing Honor, humbleness, and might, And thus only can the blessing Sent our monarch shine with right. All the ancient sins must perish— In the God-sent deluge all, And the heritage we cherish To a worthy heir must fall.

God has blessed the grain that's growing And the vineyard's fruit no less; Men with hunter's joy are glowing; In the homes reigns happiness. And our freedom's sure foundation, Pious longing, fills the breast; Love that charms in every nation In our German land is best.

Ye that are in castles dwelling, Or in towns that grace our soil, Farmers that in harvests swelling Reap the fruits of German toil— German brothers dear, united, Mark my words both old and new! That our land may stay unblighted, Keep this concord, and be true!

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FREEDOM[16] (1815)

Freedom that I love, Shining in my heart, Come now from above, Angel that thou art.

Wilt thou ne'er appear To the world oppressed? With thy grace and cheer Only stars are blessed?

In the forest gay When the trees are green, 'Neath the blooming spray, Freedom, thou art seen.

Oh, what dear delight! Music fills the air, And thy secret might Thrills us everywhere,

When the rustling boughs Friendly greetings send, When we lovers' vows Looks and kisses spend.

But the heart aspires Upward evermore, And our high desires Ever sky-ward soar.

From his simple kind Comes my rustic child, Shows his heart and mind To the world beguiled;

For him gardens bloom, For him fields have grown, Even in, the gloom Of a world of stone.

Where in that man's breast Glows a God-sent flame Who with loyal zest Loves the ancient name,

Where the men unite Valiantly to face Foes of honor's right— There dwells freedom's race.

Ramparts, brazen doors Still may bar the light, Yet the spirit soars Into regions bright;

For the fathers' grave, For the church to fall, And for dear ones—brave, True at freedom's call—

That indeed is light, Glowing rosy-red; Heroes' cheeks grow bright And more fair when dead.

Down to us, oh, guide Heaven's grace, we pray! In our hearts reside— German hearts—to stay!

Freedom sweet and fair, Trusting, void of fear, German nature e'er Was to thee most clear.