Thursday, October 9, 2025

The Lorelei

from the German of Friedrich Von Sallet, trans. by Walter K. Kelly.

Originally published in The Leader (Joseph Clatton, junr.) vol.1 #6 (04 May 1850).


                A lightsome, potent fay
                        On the dusky rock sits high;
                And sweet are the lips and the liquid lay
                        Of the beautiful Lorelei.

                She sings, that all may hear;
                        But the strain not many heed.
                "Fie! 'tis a cheat, boy; give it no ear!"
                        So runs gray caution's rede.

                The crews, as they cleave the wave,
                        Pull fast by the haunted rock;
                Their only care is how to save
                        Their craft from the shivering shock.

                Deaf ears, cold hearts, and rude
                        Have they for that sweet strain;
                And they reckon, forsooth, in their sullen mood
                        Delight foregone as gain.

                They pause not, hearken not
                        To the voice from the charmed shore;
                Dull drudgery is their ceaseless lot,
                        Wearily bent to the oar.

                But he, in whose kindling breast
                        The currents of life run strong,
                Right gladly surrenders himself, possest
                        By the lofty power of song.

                He drops the oar; not a thought
                        He gives to his fate, altho'
                His boat, in the whirling eddies caught,
                        Goes fathoms deep below.

                Soft now his rest, where never
                        Life's jarring sounds intrude,
                To scare the sweet dreams that lull him ever
                        In that crystal solitude.

                There by the Lorelei's song
                        His dreaming ear is thrilled,
                And his raptured sense with a wild sweet throng
                        Of fairy joys is filled.

                I, too, in those waters drowned,
                        Their hallowed depths love well,
                In a trance of delight for ever bound
                        By the charmer's warbled spell.

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