Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Germany: Vols. XVII–XVIII. 1876–79.
The Postilion
By Nikolaus Lenau (1802–1850)L
Clouds of silvery whiteness
O’er the blooming spring away
Sailed in fleecy lightness.
Silent rest were taking;
No one but the moonshine now
On the roads was waking.
Ceased each warbler’s numbers,—
Spring her fairy children led
Through the realm of slumbers.
Slow with silent paces,
Fragrant dreams of flowers that slept
Filled the shadowy spaces.
Cracked his whip, and, flying,
Left the vale and mountain’s brow
To his horn replying.
Loud the hoofs resounded,
As through all the bright domain
On the good steeds bounded.
Flew with scarce a greeting;
Town and country by us fled,
Like a dream still fleeting.
Lay a churchyard nested,
And the traveller’s roaming sight
Solemnly arrested.
Seemed with age reclining,
And, above, a sad and tall
Crucifix was shining.
Up the road advances,
Stops, and toward the burial-place
Reverently glances:
Sir, ’t is not for danger,—
But there lies one sleeping near
Was to me no stranger!
Ah, the sorrow ponder!
None so clear the post-horn blew
As my comrade yonder!
And, with mournful pleasure,
To the dead one’s waiting ear
Blow his favorite measure!”
Such entrancing numbers,
Well might pierce the dull ground through,
Stir the dead man’s slumbers.
From the heights came flying,—
Was the dead postilion there
To his songs replying?
On the good steeds bounded,—
Long that echo from the hill
In my ear resounded.