Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, LYRICAL INTERLUDE: PROLOGUE, by HEINRICH HEINE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

LYRICAL INTERLUDE: PROLOGUE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: There once lived a knight, who was mournful and bent
Last Line: In his poet's low garret unsightly.
Subject(s): Knights & Knighthood; Love


THERE once lived a knight, who was mournful and bent,
His cheeks white as snow were, and hollow;
He totter'd and stagger'd wherever he went,
A vain vision attempting to follow.
He seem'd so clumsy and awkward and gauche,
That the flowers and girls, when they saw him approach,
Their merriment scarcely could swallow.

From his room's darkest corner he often ne'er stirr'd,
Esteeming the sight of men shocking,
And extended his arms, without speaking a word,
As though some vain phantom were mocking.
But scarce had the hour of midnight drawn near,
When a wonderful singing and noise met his ear,
And he heard at the door a strange knocking.

His mistress then secretly enters the room,
In a dress made of foam of the ocean;
She glows like a rosebud, so sweet is her bloom,
Her jewell'd veil's ever in motion;
Her golden locks play round her form slim and tall,
Their eyes meet with rapture, and straightway they fall
In each other's arms with devotion.

In his loving embraces the knight holds her fast,
The dullard with passion is glowing;
He reddens, the dreamer awakens at last,
And bolder and bolder he's growing.
But she grows more saucy and mocking instead,
And gently and softly she covers his head,
Her white jewell'd veil o'er him throwing.

To a watery palace of crystal bright
The knight on a sudden is taken;
His eyes are dazzled by radiant light,
By his wits he is well-nigh forsaken.
But the nymph holds him closely embraced by her side
The knight is the bridegroom, the nymph is the bride
While her maidens the lute's notes awaker.

So sweetly they play and so sweetly they sing,
In the dance they are moving so lightly,
That the knight before long finds his senses take wing,
He embraces his sweet one more tightly --
When all of a sudden the lights disappear,
And the knight's once more sitting in solitude drear
In his poet's low garret unsightly.





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