C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
The Dedication of ‘Aladdin’—to Goethe
By Adam Gottlob Oehlenschläger (1779–1850)
B
Came to mine ears sweet tidings in my prime
From fairy-land;
Where flowers eternal blow,
Where power and beauty go,
Knit in a magic band.
In rapture on the ancient saga lore;
When on the wold
The snow was falling white,
I, shuddering with delight,
Felt not the cold.
The winter smote the castle on the hill,
It fanned my hair;
I sat in my small room,
And through the lamp-lit gloom
Saw Spring smile fair.
Was all for Northern energy and truth,
And Northern feats,
Yet for my fancy’s feast
The flower-appareled East
Unveiled its sweets.
From North to South, from South to North, I flew;
I was possessed
By yearnings to give voice in song
To all that had been struggling long
Within my breast.
But at their minstrelsy my heart grew cold;
Dim, colorless, became
My childhood’s visions grand;
Their tameness only fanned
My wilder flame.
Who to his eye a keener vision gave,
That he the child
Amor beheld, astride
The lion, far off ride,
Careering wild?
Did the enchanted curtain raise
From fairy-land,
Where flowers eternal blow,
Where power and beauty go,
Knit in a loving band.
Within thy halls the stranger-minstrel’s song;
Taught to aspire
By thee, my spirit leapt
To bolder heights, and swept
The German lyre.
And many a hero of our Northern shore,
With grave stern mien,
By sad Melpomene
Called from his grave, we see
Stalk o’er the scene.
To friend Aladdin cheerly as a friend:
The oak’s thick gloom
Prevails not wholly where
Warbles the nightingale, and fair
Flowers waft perfume.
New life, what shall my gratitude bestow?
Naught has the bard
Save his own song! And this
Thou dost not, trivial as the tribute is,
With scorn regard.