Strike up,
musicians
!
Poland - 1881 - Poets and Poetry of Poland
Schools and wise teachers both are near;
But you'll lose time to go and ask, --
Be giddy-headed with the task.
But for beginners, full of worth,
Are charts of sky and charts of earth;
And there is, too, Dame Nature's book,
That children learn from as they look.
People there are who lose or gain,
Whose hearts are full of joy or pain;
And they each other teach in turn,
With pluck and spirit go and learn.
Search without idleness; refrain
From asking oft. The way is plain.
Young Man. Tell me where can I find a friend .
Old Man. That great boon none but Fate can send;
With golden nets he is not caught,
With skill nor flattery is bought.
He who has found, indeed, a friend.
Whose heart with his through life may blend,
Blessed is he beyond compare!
For as the body needs the air
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? 234 POETS AND POETRY OF POLAND.
E'en so the true heart needs a friend, --
He who will a few words extend,
If they be kindly and sincere,
Though why, may not to you appear.
Time passes, and day follows day,
Year after year will slip away;
But still your heart will yearn for him,
He reigns o'er you in silence dim.
Will all your hidden troubles guess
In fancied luck or hopelessness.
Your friend rejoices or he grieves,
If your devotion he receives.
To state a truth there consequent
To your voice let your heart be lent,
Exclaiming; I a friend have found.
Young Man. Tell me where pleasure does abound?
Old Man. 'Tis long since from it I have heard,
Others can tell you scarce a word.
Something of it I knew in youth,
Its mother was good health and truth.
Innocence it had for a wife,
Possessed goods many of this life;
Except with children it is found
'Tis vanished now from sight and sound.
Young Man. Pray tell me where's Virtue now.
Old Man. It's lying ill and very low.
It prays for all most fervently,
Its own reward it used to be,
Quietly breathing its pure breath,
But now it weeps as if for death,
And terrible is its distress!
Young Man. Where then can I find happiness?
Old Man. In this direction it lies not,
By every one the way is sought,
But ah ! no one knows happiness,
And so, I think, all will confess;
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? BRODZIN? SKI. 235
In search of it they still must roam.
You have left it in your sire's home;
Only in God you'll find it now,
Speak gently -- teach your heart to bow.
Seek peace in many a noble task,
And last of all your conscience ask,
And that will the whole story tell.
Young M> an. Where does Faith about here dwell?
Old Man. If from your mother you learned not
By children you can best be taught.
The straightest path to it would be, --
Not to inquire of men you see,
Who happy seem, nor those world-wise,
Seek if in love for all it lies
In loving deeds and kindly thought,
And when all else has come to naught
It will, when troubles fast succeed,
Itself into your succor speed,
And to its home in safety lead.
SLANDER.
Unlucky he who stands in slander's power !
Though great, -- for worms a lion may devour.
FRIENDSHIP.
Like the morning sunbeam's shade,
Friendship with the evil made
Lessens every hour with time ;
As the shade of evening lengthens
Friendship with the virtuous strengthens,
Till the sun sinks down sublime.
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? 236 POETS AND POETRY OF POLAND.
WIES? AW. *
Old Stanis? aw came from his chamber-door,
His wife upon his arm, -- two bags he bore;
Whence thrice a hundred florins he told o'er,
And said, " Take these, my Wies? aw, and depart;
And bring a pair of steeds from Cracow's mart; --
A well- matched pair. -- My son was slain in fight,
And grief and grievous age o'erpower me quite:
I've none to trust but thee, the prop, the stay
Of my old house. When I have pass'd away
Be thou its head; -- and if (Heaven grant the prayer! )
My daughter e'er should win thy love, thy care, --
Twelve years -- rare beauty -- thou mayst wait; -- -my tongue
Must not betray my heart; -- but thou art young. "
"Yes! yes! " cried Bronis? awa, "'tis for thee
I watch and train the maiden tenderly. "
(She smoothed Bronika's cheeks while this she said;
And deeply blushed the young and simple maid. )
" I have no sweeter thoughts for her; -- and this
Were the full spring-tide of a mother's bliss;
0! I was twice a mother. God above!
Can I weep out the memory of her love?
The fifth fruit scarce had blossom'd; -- she was reft,
And not a solitary vestige left.
Twelve wintry winds have stripped the forest tree,
And still her visions haunt that memory.
When war had ravaged Poland, -- when its brands
Fired our low cots, and razed our smiling lands, --
When even the forests perish'd in the blaze,
And terror like a whirlwind met the gaze,
As if all heaven were frowning; -- overturn'd
* Pronounced Vies? av.
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? BRODZIN? SKI. 237
Our houses; rooted up, and tore, and burn'd
Our sheltering woods; -- 'twas as if judgment-day
Had gather'd all its terrors o'er our way.
Midst sobs and sighs and shrieks and wailings loud,
Through the wild tempest of the fiery cloud,
Our peasants rush'd to save us; while the foe
Fed upon plunder, scattering fear and woe.
Our father's cottage in the smoke-clouds fell, --
And that beloved child, -- O horrible!
That sweet, soft maiden disappears; -- no trace
Was left; -- 'twas all a bare and blazing place: --
I sought her through the villages and woods:
There was no voice in all their solitudes.
No! she was lost forever! as a stone
Into th' unfathom'd trackless ocean thrown;
And I found nought but silence. Year by year
The harvest maidens wreath'd with flowers appear, --
But she appears not; -- Oh! she is not there.
Heaven's will shall be Heaven's praise. -- I fix'd on thee,
My son, her representative to be.
Thou wert an orphan, and of old 'twas said,
That he who housed a homeless orphan's head
Should ne'er want comfort; -- and perchance my child
May yet have found a home, -- and 'neath the mild
And holy smile of a maternal eye
May dwell with other children joyously.
So have I train'd thee, -- so have I fulfill'd
A mother's duties, -- and my grief was still'd
With thoughts that mercy should for mercy pay;
For Heaven's rewards flit o'er our earthly way
In strange and wandering light. Perchance the mound
Lies on her head o'er the dark grave profound,
While her freed spirit in the realms of rest .
Sits dove-like on the Heavenly Mother's* breast;
* The Virgin Mary.
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? 238 POETS AND POETRY OF POLAND.
And thence by prayers and tears on our abode
Sends down the smiles of angels and of God. "
She could no more; -- her cheeks were drench'd in tears,-
Tears, -- the prompt eloquence of hopes and fears;
Her daughter's heart seem'd bursting. Tears deny
Their soothing influence to man's sterner eye.
So Stanis? aw, whose soul was full as hers,
Cried, " God in heaven directs weak man's affairs, --
God, whose all-penetrating sight can rend
The curtains of all time and space; -- a friend
And ever-present Father. None too mean
For his regards; -- he rules o'er all unseen.
Let grief give way to pious confidence !
Provide for Wies? aw now, and speed him hence,
And give him counsel and thy blessing; -- youth
Is ever hasty. Boy ! some pledge of truth
Thou'lt bring to thy betroth'd. " -- In reverence meet
He bow'd, and then embraced the old man's feet;
Then pass'd the threshold, grateful to high Heaven,
Who to the orphan such kind friends had given.
Sweet evening with its twilight bathed the earth,
And lo! the gladdening sounds of village mirth
Fell upon Wies? aw's ear, as home he rode
Upon his new-bought steeds, -- the shouts were loud,
And gay the music;-- swift the horses speed:
He saw the bride-maids sporting in the mead,
All crown'd with myrtle garlands. Youths around
Stamp'd their steel heels upon the echoing ground,*
Then sprung to greet the stranger. First of all
The Starost f spoke: " Tis well to claim, and call
A stranger, friend: from Proszow welcome thou;
*To stamp with the feet is the accompaniment of the Cracowiak
dance.
\ The head of the wedding festival.
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? BRODZIN? SKI. 239
Despise not the kind thoughts that hail thee now.
Come, share our joys, -- the joys which time and toil,
And God's good blessing, and our flowery soil
Confer; -- and thou Cracovia's maids shalt see,
Their dances, dresses, and festivity.
Come, join their sports; though thou art tired, perchance
Thy weariness may fly at beauty's glance,
For thou art young. " The fair Halina, -- fair
As morning, -- she the queen, the day-star there,
Approach'd; -- she blush'd, she blush'd, but nearer drew,
And proffer'd cakes and fruits of varied hue
From her own basket: -- " Stranger, deign to share
Our fruits, our bread, our unpretending fare. "
The stranger's vivid eye toward her turn'd,
And with a magic smiling brightness burn'd ;
Aye ! from that very moment eye and soul
Were spell-bound by that simple maid's control,
And joyous sped he to the dance. The band
Of youth, with wine-fill'd goblets in their hand,
Bid him a welcome; and the Starost's word
Thus order'd : -- " Let precedence be conferr'd
Upon the stranger. Let him choose the song;
Be his to lead the mazy dance along.
Let him select a maiden, -- courtesy
Must on the stranger wait, -- and this is he
Wies? aw had seized her hand whose eye had shed
On him a heavenly influence, and he led
Halina forth, -- a long and laughing train
Of youths and maidens to the music's strain
Beat their responsive feet, -- and heel on heel
Like flitting shadows on the water, steal.
His hands were on his belted girdle, while
He gaily danced in that bright maiden's smile:
Into the vial silver coins he threw,
And bowing to the seated sires, anew
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? 240 POETS AND POETRY OF POLAND.
Struck with his foot the ground, and lower'd his head
And thus pour'd forth his music to the maid :
" Beautiful damsel! often I
Have seen what seem'd almost divine,
But never brightness like thine eye,
But never charms, sweet maid! like thine.
" Look on my face, and see, and see,
As my warm heart to Heaven is known,
How that fond heart would spring to thee,
And blend its passions with thine own. "
Again he led the maiden forth, and danced
Like a young god by joy and love entranced;
Again the gladdening peals of music rang,
Again he stopp'd, and bow'd, and sweetly sang :
" O ! had I known thee in the plain
Where Proszow rears his forest shades,
I should have been most blest of men,
Thou happiest of Cracovian maids.
" The blood that flows within our veins
Can all our fond desires enthrall:
Man plants and waters, toils and pains,
But God in Heaven disposes all. "
With dancing step before the youth she flew,
With joyous ecstasy his steps pursue.
Again he takes her hand, and smiles; -- again
His thrilling lips resume the raptured strain : --
" O fly not, fly not, maid divine !
My life, my chosen one, art thou:
My heart shall be thine own bright shrine,
And never lose thine image now.
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? BRODZIN? SKI. 241
" So in the solitary wood
The little warbler finds its rest;
And consecrates its solitude,
And makes its own, its homely nest. "
Now in his turn before the maid he flies,
And she to track his footstep gaily hies:
He stops, and laughs ; -- again his lips repeat
Words of light eloquence to music sweet : --
" Gospodar* ! I have dearly bought
My steeds ; -- my money all away ; --
Perplex'd and pain'd my rambling thought
And my poor heart is led astray.
11 But wake, O wake the song! -- despair
And darkness gather o'er my mind:
I seek my home ; -- my body there
I drag, -- my soul remains behind. "
She stretch'd her hand; -- again he sings, -- the throng
Of youth hangs raptured on his ardent song.
Strike up, musicians ! -- 'Twas too late ; for they
Had sunk to rest beneath sleep's lulling sway.
And now Halina fled; -- her blush to hide
She sought the village matrons' sheltering side.
And Wies? aw to the Starost and to these
Made many a bow, and utter 'd courtesies;
And many a whisper fell ; and late and long
He linger'd midst the hospitable throng;
Linger'd until the bride-day whitening fell
In twilight on the hills, -- then said farewell !
His ears were full of music and of mirth,
His heart seem'd big with thoughts, yet void with dearth ;
One thought in varied imagery was there,
One all-possessing thought, -- the thought of her.
* Landlord.
16
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? 242 POETS AND POETRY OF POLAND.
III.
Wies? aw o'er the field, the waste, the wood,
Sped swiftly; yet his bosom's solitude
And his love-grief were with him : -- for when love
Is seated in the heart no thoughts can move,
No reason drive it thence. And now should he
Divulge his love, or fan it secretly?
He would tell all to Stanis? aw. He rode
To the court-yard, and to his loved abode
Was warmly welcomed by th' expectant crowd;
Sire, mother, daughter, -- some with voices loud,
And some with silent smiles. They smooth'd his horse
And tied him to the hedge; and praised of course
His bargains and his quick return. The steeds
Old Stanis? aw with looks approving leads
To their appointed stall; -- but first his care
Bids Bronis? awa homely feast prepare.
And Wies? aw reach'd the cot, and seated him
Pensively. " Art thou ill? -- thine eyes are dim! "
Inquired the anxious women. No word pass'd
His lips: he stretchM his hand, and gave at last
A present to Bronika: -- still he kept
Silence. Just then a curious neighbor stept
Over the threshold, -- it was John, the seer
Of all the village, and though learned -- dear:
Prudent in council he; yet free and gay,
He sway'd the peasants, but with gentlest sway:
Honest and wise in thought, -- in language wise.
Yet why does gloom hang thick on Wiesiaw's eyes?
The father came, and all were seated round
Their sober meal; -- John's jests and jokes abound.
Yet Bronis? awa could only dream and guess
What Wies? aw's silence meant. " O now confess,
Confess what clouds thy heart and stills thy tongue,
For gloom and silence ill become the young;
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? BRODZIN? SKI. 243
Thou'rt brooding on some grief. " The words pierced thro'
His heart; -- his cheeks were stain'd with roseate hue;
O'erpower'd he fell at Bronislawa's feet.
"Yes! I will speak, -- say all. Indeed 'tis meet
To veil no thoughts from aged friends; for they
May guide the wandering youth that walks astray,
With words of wisdom. Better I had ne'er
Left this kind home, your kindness and your care.
Content I walk'd behind your cheerful plow,
And never knew the war of grief -- till now.
But man can only travel in the road,
Or smooth or rough, which is mark'd out by God.
His oracles are swift as rays of light, --
Unseen as spirit, -- unopposed in might, --
I pass'd a village, where a maiden sto^
My heart, and charm'd my senses and my soul,
And holds them now. My parents rest in heaven;
You to the orphan a kind home have given --
A shelter to the orphan's misery:
Yes ! you unbarr'd your friendly gates to me ; --
Repent not now your kindness and your love.
Ye taught me toil, and fear of God above;
And gave your only daughter, a wreath'd * bride
To hang with fondness on the orphan's side.
Even when I rock'd her in her cradle, ye
Have often said, ' That babe thy wife shall be! ' --
And am I then ungrateful? Is my heart,
My obdurate heart, of stone, that thus would part,
Your hopes, my dreams? Nay! let me, let me speak,
For love is strong, and language is but weak.
Why must I grieve ye? -- why my shame declare?
No longer can I claim your fostering care;
For I must dwell with strangers. Come what may,
I cannot live where that fair maid's away; --
? Wreath'd, affianced. A wreath is synonymous with a dower.
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? 244 POETS AND POETRY OF POLAND.
I hate myself; I'm useless to mankind; --
Give me your blessing. Let me leave behind
Eternal gratitude. Your blessing give;
For who beneath a patron's curse could live?
Farewell! and God shall judge us. " Tears of woe
Good Bronisiawa's aged eyes o'erflow.
The old man bends his head, -- but not t' approve, --
And utters these sad words of solemn love :
" 'Twas on thy father's death-bed that he gave
Thee to my care, -- and then he sought his grave;
And from that hour I loved thee tenderly:
Yes! nothing was more dear than thou to me.
Know'st thou old age is on me; and canst thou
Leave me to struggle with its miseries now,
And rush upon life's perils? -- quit the cot
Where sorrow and unkindness enter not, --
Quit every future hope? -- Oh, if thou go,
Thou shalt bear with thee shame and tears and woe!
Thine is a dangerous course: -- I cannot say
'God bless thee! ' Stay, my best-loved Wies? aw, stay! "
All wept, except the village seer. His head
He wisely shook, and thus he gaily said:
"How can the old man understand the young?
Freedom is in their heart, and on their tongue
Sweet change; tempt them with love, with riches' cares,
Still they look further, -- for the world is theirs:
For them restraint is weariness and woe;
And as the spring-bird scours the meadows, so
Proud, free and gay, rejoicing in his might,
O'er rivers, woods, and cliffs he takes his flight,
Until attracted by some gentle strain
He seeks the green and leafy woods again,
And by his mate reposes. Such the laws
Which nature round the star of youth-time draws.
In vain you stop his course, -- and why should he
Be check'd, when God and nature made him free!
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? BRODZIN? SKI. 245
He holds no influence o'er Bronika's doom;
'Tis mutual love makes happy wedlock bloom:
She is a lovely floweret, to be placed
On some fair stranger's bosom. Father, haste
And give thy blessing to thy son; -- for each
Should seize the bliss that grows within his reach. "
To whom old Stanis? aw, -- '"'Not so! not so!
I cannot let my son, my Wies? aw, go:
Thou'rt full of knowledge; but thou canst not know
A father's fondness, and a father's woe,
When the dear object of his grief, his cares, --
With whom he lived, and loved, and labor'd, -- tears
His heart away, and leaves a dark abode
The once love-lighted dwelling where he trod; --
Forgetting all -- all, e'en the tears they pour'd
In solitude, -- while at a stranger's board
The daughter sits. O no ! I long had dream'd
Of bliss to come, -- and sweet and bright it seem'd
To think her mother, when death's curtain fell
Upon my silent grave, in peace should dwell
In her own cottage; -- but 'twas vain to build
Such visions ; -- Be the will of Heaven fulfill'd !
Go -- with my blessing, Wies? aw -- go; let John
Escort thee, counsel thee; -- Heaven's will be done!
Go to thy loved one's dwelling. If the maid
And the maid's friends consent love's wreaths to braid,
Then bring her hither; -- John thy guide shall be,*
And she be welcomed when betroth'd to thee. "
So John and Wies? aw left their home at length:
And Wies? aw, sped by love and youthful strength,
Flew o'er the mountains, through the fields and dells,
* Among the peasantry it is the custom in Poland for the young
man who asks a maid in marriage to take the most venerable of his
friends to plead for him. He is called the Swat. The ceremony of
betrothing follows, and rings are pledged in exchange.
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? 246 POETS AND POETRY OF POLAND.
And reach'd the dwelling where the maiden dwells;
While thus beneath her window, where they stood,
Their strains of music on her ear intrude:
" The beds are cover'd with flowerets sweet,
And rue and rosemary bloom in pride;
A garland lies in the window-seat,
And a maid walks forth to be a bride.
"A youth from a distant land will come,
And soon to the maiden's parents speak;
The daughter will pluck the flowers that bloom,
And swiftly another mother seek.
" O rosemary ! wear thy gems of blue,
And garland once more the maiden's brow;
And wake again, thou emerald rue,
For none shall water thy springing now.
" The cottage is neat, though poor it be,
The blessing of God beams bright on care,
The magpie cries on the old elm tree,
And the maid in her morning robes is there.
"Awake, and open! -- the guests draw nigh,
O welcome them in a day like this;
Eeceive the strangers cordially,
They come to shed and to share in bliss. "
The mother from her spindle rose, and drew
The bolt, -- the creaking door wide open flew;
Old John and youthful Wies? aw entered then, --
Wies? aw of giant height and noble mien,
Whose head reach'd e'en the ceiling. Jadwicz said,
" Welcome, our guests! Sit down and rest, and spread
The news ye bring. " Next came the bright-eyed maid,
Blushing, yet bending like a flower that's weigh'd
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? BRODZIN? SKI. 247
By heavy dews. John hail'd her: "Maiden, stay!
Those rosy cheeks an old man's toils shall pay. "
Then she blush 'd deeper, and from Wies? aw took
His traveling-basket, and his traveling-crook
From the good sire; -- she drew the settle near,
And bid them rest; while whispering in her ear
Jadwicz gave speedy orders: " Light the hearth,
Prepare the meal. " While with a smile of mirth
The old man said, " I would not now transgress
The customs of our fathers, -- I confess
I love old usages; -- so with your leave,
An ye will lend your goblets, and receive
A draught from our own flagon, I will pledge
My landlady, for wine gives wit its edge;
It cheers and it emboldens; tears the veil
That hides the heart, and bids us see and feel:
And, as when children in the crystal brook
Upon their own, their very image look, --
So the red wine's the mirror where we see
Our very souls. The honey-gathering bee
Is a bright emblem of our cares ; he goes
Busy o'er all-providing earth, and shows
What order, care and zeal can do; -- in spring,
From fragrant flowers and orchards blossoming
To his hive brothers bears the gather'd stores:
So in his maiden's lap the fond youth pours
His passions, his affections. How sincere
Is the pure offering of a villager,
Who offers honest, ardent love ! The bee
Its emblem, -- labor, -- concord, -- purity. "
The mother reach'd the goblets. John's discourse
Delighted all; for in it shone the force
Of a clear intellect, which God had given.
He had bound many ties, and had made even
Many strange odds ; -- at every wedding feast
He was the Starost, and of course the guest:
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? 248 POETS AND POETRY OF POLAND.
And hundred children call'd him "Father 1 "; he
Call'd every happy home his family; --
And he was always welcome. Now he took
The goblet in his hand, and o'er it shook
The liquid honey. * " Take it, gentle maid!
It grew in distant fields," he smiling said:
11 Take it, for thou deservest all that's sweet
And beautiful in life. " Her glances meet
Her mother's eye, and with averted look
'Neath her white apron hid,t the maiden took
One solitary drop. The rest old John
Drank to the dregs; -- while like a summer dawn
That brightens into light with blushing hue,
The maiden stood; and the old man anew
Thus said: "The maiden's silence speaks; and now
I'll turn me to her mother: -- Wayward youth,
Both blind and passionate, wants our guide: in truth
It cannot penetrate futurity,
But hangs on love, and trusts to destiny.
Let's lead them then, -- they wander far astray ;
We'll take their hands, and guide them on their way,
And watch their happiness, -- foresee, control
Their path; and God, who watches o'er the whole,
Will turn all ill to good. -- You see the son
Of honest sires, -- though they, alas! are gone,
And sleep beneath the turf; -- yet other sires
Have, pity-touch'd, fann'd all affection's fires,
And taught him virtue. They have given him food;
Trained him, an orphan, to be wise and good:
* Mead is a national beverage of the Poles, and has been so for
many centuries. The best is made in the month of July, when the
lime trees are in flower, at which period the honey is called Lipiec.
Kowno, on the banks of the Niemen, is particularly renowned for its
honey.
t The Polish peasants, as a general thing, always turn away and
cover their faces when they drink in the presence of others.
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? BRODZIN?
But you'll lose time to go and ask, --
Be giddy-headed with the task.
But for beginners, full of worth,
Are charts of sky and charts of earth;
And there is, too, Dame Nature's book,
That children learn from as they look.
People there are who lose or gain,
Whose hearts are full of joy or pain;
And they each other teach in turn,
With pluck and spirit go and learn.
Search without idleness; refrain
From asking oft. The way is plain.
Young Man. Tell me where can I find a friend .
Old Man. That great boon none but Fate can send;
With golden nets he is not caught,
With skill nor flattery is bought.
He who has found, indeed, a friend.
Whose heart with his through life may blend,
Blessed is he beyond compare!
For as the body needs the air
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? 234 POETS AND POETRY OF POLAND.
E'en so the true heart needs a friend, --
He who will a few words extend,
If they be kindly and sincere,
Though why, may not to you appear.
Time passes, and day follows day,
Year after year will slip away;
But still your heart will yearn for him,
He reigns o'er you in silence dim.
Will all your hidden troubles guess
In fancied luck or hopelessness.
Your friend rejoices or he grieves,
If your devotion he receives.
To state a truth there consequent
To your voice let your heart be lent,
Exclaiming; I a friend have found.
Young Man. Tell me where pleasure does abound?
Old Man. 'Tis long since from it I have heard,
Others can tell you scarce a word.
Something of it I knew in youth,
Its mother was good health and truth.
Innocence it had for a wife,
Possessed goods many of this life;
Except with children it is found
'Tis vanished now from sight and sound.
Young Man. Pray tell me where's Virtue now.
Old Man. It's lying ill and very low.
It prays for all most fervently,
Its own reward it used to be,
Quietly breathing its pure breath,
But now it weeps as if for death,
And terrible is its distress!
Young Man. Where then can I find happiness?
Old Man. In this direction it lies not,
By every one the way is sought,
But ah ! no one knows happiness,
And so, I think, all will confess;
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? BRODZIN? SKI. 235
In search of it they still must roam.
You have left it in your sire's home;
Only in God you'll find it now,
Speak gently -- teach your heart to bow.
Seek peace in many a noble task,
And last of all your conscience ask,
And that will the whole story tell.
Young M> an. Where does Faith about here dwell?
Old Man. If from your mother you learned not
By children you can best be taught.
The straightest path to it would be, --
Not to inquire of men you see,
Who happy seem, nor those world-wise,
Seek if in love for all it lies
In loving deeds and kindly thought,
And when all else has come to naught
It will, when troubles fast succeed,
Itself into your succor speed,
And to its home in safety lead.
SLANDER.
Unlucky he who stands in slander's power !
Though great, -- for worms a lion may devour.
FRIENDSHIP.
Like the morning sunbeam's shade,
Friendship with the evil made
Lessens every hour with time ;
As the shade of evening lengthens
Friendship with the virtuous strengthens,
Till the sun sinks down sublime.
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? 236 POETS AND POETRY OF POLAND.
WIES? AW. *
Old Stanis? aw came from his chamber-door,
His wife upon his arm, -- two bags he bore;
Whence thrice a hundred florins he told o'er,
And said, " Take these, my Wies? aw, and depart;
And bring a pair of steeds from Cracow's mart; --
A well- matched pair. -- My son was slain in fight,
And grief and grievous age o'erpower me quite:
I've none to trust but thee, the prop, the stay
Of my old house. When I have pass'd away
Be thou its head; -- and if (Heaven grant the prayer! )
My daughter e'er should win thy love, thy care, --
Twelve years -- rare beauty -- thou mayst wait; -- -my tongue
Must not betray my heart; -- but thou art young. "
"Yes! yes! " cried Bronis? awa, "'tis for thee
I watch and train the maiden tenderly. "
(She smoothed Bronika's cheeks while this she said;
And deeply blushed the young and simple maid. )
" I have no sweeter thoughts for her; -- and this
Were the full spring-tide of a mother's bliss;
0! I was twice a mother. God above!
Can I weep out the memory of her love?
The fifth fruit scarce had blossom'd; -- she was reft,
And not a solitary vestige left.
Twelve wintry winds have stripped the forest tree,
And still her visions haunt that memory.
When war had ravaged Poland, -- when its brands
Fired our low cots, and razed our smiling lands, --
When even the forests perish'd in the blaze,
And terror like a whirlwind met the gaze,
As if all heaven were frowning; -- overturn'd
* Pronounced Vies? av.
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? BRODZIN? SKI. 237
Our houses; rooted up, and tore, and burn'd
Our sheltering woods; -- 'twas as if judgment-day
Had gather'd all its terrors o'er our way.
Midst sobs and sighs and shrieks and wailings loud,
Through the wild tempest of the fiery cloud,
Our peasants rush'd to save us; while the foe
Fed upon plunder, scattering fear and woe.
Our father's cottage in the smoke-clouds fell, --
And that beloved child, -- O horrible!
That sweet, soft maiden disappears; -- no trace
Was left; -- 'twas all a bare and blazing place: --
I sought her through the villages and woods:
There was no voice in all their solitudes.
No! she was lost forever! as a stone
Into th' unfathom'd trackless ocean thrown;
And I found nought but silence. Year by year
The harvest maidens wreath'd with flowers appear, --
But she appears not; -- Oh! she is not there.
Heaven's will shall be Heaven's praise. -- I fix'd on thee,
My son, her representative to be.
Thou wert an orphan, and of old 'twas said,
That he who housed a homeless orphan's head
Should ne'er want comfort; -- and perchance my child
May yet have found a home, -- and 'neath the mild
And holy smile of a maternal eye
May dwell with other children joyously.
So have I train'd thee, -- so have I fulfill'd
A mother's duties, -- and my grief was still'd
With thoughts that mercy should for mercy pay;
For Heaven's rewards flit o'er our earthly way
In strange and wandering light. Perchance the mound
Lies on her head o'er the dark grave profound,
While her freed spirit in the realms of rest .
Sits dove-like on the Heavenly Mother's* breast;
* The Virgin Mary.
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? 238 POETS AND POETRY OF POLAND.
And thence by prayers and tears on our abode
Sends down the smiles of angels and of God. "
She could no more; -- her cheeks were drench'd in tears,-
Tears, -- the prompt eloquence of hopes and fears;
Her daughter's heart seem'd bursting. Tears deny
Their soothing influence to man's sterner eye.
So Stanis? aw, whose soul was full as hers,
Cried, " God in heaven directs weak man's affairs, --
God, whose all-penetrating sight can rend
The curtains of all time and space; -- a friend
And ever-present Father. None too mean
For his regards; -- he rules o'er all unseen.
Let grief give way to pious confidence !
Provide for Wies? aw now, and speed him hence,
And give him counsel and thy blessing; -- youth
Is ever hasty. Boy ! some pledge of truth
Thou'lt bring to thy betroth'd. " -- In reverence meet
He bow'd, and then embraced the old man's feet;
Then pass'd the threshold, grateful to high Heaven,
Who to the orphan such kind friends had given.
Sweet evening with its twilight bathed the earth,
And lo! the gladdening sounds of village mirth
Fell upon Wies? aw's ear, as home he rode
Upon his new-bought steeds, -- the shouts were loud,
And gay the music;-- swift the horses speed:
He saw the bride-maids sporting in the mead,
All crown'd with myrtle garlands. Youths around
Stamp'd their steel heels upon the echoing ground,*
Then sprung to greet the stranger. First of all
The Starost f spoke: " Tis well to claim, and call
A stranger, friend: from Proszow welcome thou;
*To stamp with the feet is the accompaniment of the Cracowiak
dance.
\ The head of the wedding festival.
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? BRODZIN? SKI. 239
Despise not the kind thoughts that hail thee now.
Come, share our joys, -- the joys which time and toil,
And God's good blessing, and our flowery soil
Confer; -- and thou Cracovia's maids shalt see,
Their dances, dresses, and festivity.
Come, join their sports; though thou art tired, perchance
Thy weariness may fly at beauty's glance,
For thou art young. " The fair Halina, -- fair
As morning, -- she the queen, the day-star there,
Approach'd; -- she blush'd, she blush'd, but nearer drew,
And proffer'd cakes and fruits of varied hue
From her own basket: -- " Stranger, deign to share
Our fruits, our bread, our unpretending fare. "
The stranger's vivid eye toward her turn'd,
And with a magic smiling brightness burn'd ;
Aye ! from that very moment eye and soul
Were spell-bound by that simple maid's control,
And joyous sped he to the dance. The band
Of youth, with wine-fill'd goblets in their hand,
Bid him a welcome; and the Starost's word
Thus order'd : -- " Let precedence be conferr'd
Upon the stranger. Let him choose the song;
Be his to lead the mazy dance along.
Let him select a maiden, -- courtesy
Must on the stranger wait, -- and this is he
Wies? aw had seized her hand whose eye had shed
On him a heavenly influence, and he led
Halina forth, -- a long and laughing train
Of youths and maidens to the music's strain
Beat their responsive feet, -- and heel on heel
Like flitting shadows on the water, steal.
His hands were on his belted girdle, while
He gaily danced in that bright maiden's smile:
Into the vial silver coins he threw,
And bowing to the seated sires, anew
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? 240 POETS AND POETRY OF POLAND.
Struck with his foot the ground, and lower'd his head
And thus pour'd forth his music to the maid :
" Beautiful damsel! often I
Have seen what seem'd almost divine,
But never brightness like thine eye,
But never charms, sweet maid! like thine.
" Look on my face, and see, and see,
As my warm heart to Heaven is known,
How that fond heart would spring to thee,
And blend its passions with thine own. "
Again he led the maiden forth, and danced
Like a young god by joy and love entranced;
Again the gladdening peals of music rang,
Again he stopp'd, and bow'd, and sweetly sang :
" O ! had I known thee in the plain
Where Proszow rears his forest shades,
I should have been most blest of men,
Thou happiest of Cracovian maids.
" The blood that flows within our veins
Can all our fond desires enthrall:
Man plants and waters, toils and pains,
But God in Heaven disposes all. "
With dancing step before the youth she flew,
With joyous ecstasy his steps pursue.
Again he takes her hand, and smiles; -- again
His thrilling lips resume the raptured strain : --
" O fly not, fly not, maid divine !
My life, my chosen one, art thou:
My heart shall be thine own bright shrine,
And never lose thine image now.
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? BRODZIN? SKI. 241
" So in the solitary wood
The little warbler finds its rest;
And consecrates its solitude,
And makes its own, its homely nest. "
Now in his turn before the maid he flies,
And she to track his footstep gaily hies:
He stops, and laughs ; -- again his lips repeat
Words of light eloquence to music sweet : --
" Gospodar* ! I have dearly bought
My steeds ; -- my money all away ; --
Perplex'd and pain'd my rambling thought
And my poor heart is led astray.
11 But wake, O wake the song! -- despair
And darkness gather o'er my mind:
I seek my home ; -- my body there
I drag, -- my soul remains behind. "
She stretch'd her hand; -- again he sings, -- the throng
Of youth hangs raptured on his ardent song.
Strike up, musicians ! -- 'Twas too late ; for they
Had sunk to rest beneath sleep's lulling sway.
And now Halina fled; -- her blush to hide
She sought the village matrons' sheltering side.
And Wies? aw to the Starost and to these
Made many a bow, and utter 'd courtesies;
And many a whisper fell ; and late and long
He linger'd midst the hospitable throng;
Linger'd until the bride-day whitening fell
In twilight on the hills, -- then said farewell !
His ears were full of music and of mirth,
His heart seem'd big with thoughts, yet void with dearth ;
One thought in varied imagery was there,
One all-possessing thought, -- the thought of her.
* Landlord.
16
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? 242 POETS AND POETRY OF POLAND.
III.
Wies? aw o'er the field, the waste, the wood,
Sped swiftly; yet his bosom's solitude
And his love-grief were with him : -- for when love
Is seated in the heart no thoughts can move,
No reason drive it thence. And now should he
Divulge his love, or fan it secretly?
He would tell all to Stanis? aw. He rode
To the court-yard, and to his loved abode
Was warmly welcomed by th' expectant crowd;
Sire, mother, daughter, -- some with voices loud,
And some with silent smiles. They smooth'd his horse
And tied him to the hedge; and praised of course
His bargains and his quick return. The steeds
Old Stanis? aw with looks approving leads
To their appointed stall; -- but first his care
Bids Bronis? awa homely feast prepare.
And Wies? aw reach'd the cot, and seated him
Pensively. " Art thou ill? -- thine eyes are dim! "
Inquired the anxious women. No word pass'd
His lips: he stretchM his hand, and gave at last
A present to Bronika: -- still he kept
Silence. Just then a curious neighbor stept
Over the threshold, -- it was John, the seer
Of all the village, and though learned -- dear:
Prudent in council he; yet free and gay,
He sway'd the peasants, but with gentlest sway:
Honest and wise in thought, -- in language wise.
Yet why does gloom hang thick on Wiesiaw's eyes?
The father came, and all were seated round
Their sober meal; -- John's jests and jokes abound.
Yet Bronis? awa could only dream and guess
What Wies? aw's silence meant. " O now confess,
Confess what clouds thy heart and stills thy tongue,
For gloom and silence ill become the young;
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? BRODZIN? SKI. 243
Thou'rt brooding on some grief. " The words pierced thro'
His heart; -- his cheeks were stain'd with roseate hue;
O'erpower'd he fell at Bronislawa's feet.
"Yes! I will speak, -- say all. Indeed 'tis meet
To veil no thoughts from aged friends; for they
May guide the wandering youth that walks astray,
With words of wisdom. Better I had ne'er
Left this kind home, your kindness and your care.
Content I walk'd behind your cheerful plow,
And never knew the war of grief -- till now.
But man can only travel in the road,
Or smooth or rough, which is mark'd out by God.
His oracles are swift as rays of light, --
Unseen as spirit, -- unopposed in might, --
I pass'd a village, where a maiden sto^
My heart, and charm'd my senses and my soul,
And holds them now. My parents rest in heaven;
You to the orphan a kind home have given --
A shelter to the orphan's misery:
Yes ! you unbarr'd your friendly gates to me ; --
Repent not now your kindness and your love.
Ye taught me toil, and fear of God above;
And gave your only daughter, a wreath'd * bride
To hang with fondness on the orphan's side.
Even when I rock'd her in her cradle, ye
Have often said, ' That babe thy wife shall be! ' --
And am I then ungrateful? Is my heart,
My obdurate heart, of stone, that thus would part,
Your hopes, my dreams? Nay! let me, let me speak,
For love is strong, and language is but weak.
Why must I grieve ye? -- why my shame declare?
No longer can I claim your fostering care;
For I must dwell with strangers. Come what may,
I cannot live where that fair maid's away; --
? Wreath'd, affianced. A wreath is synonymous with a dower.
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? 244 POETS AND POETRY OF POLAND.
I hate myself; I'm useless to mankind; --
Give me your blessing. Let me leave behind
Eternal gratitude. Your blessing give;
For who beneath a patron's curse could live?
Farewell! and God shall judge us. " Tears of woe
Good Bronisiawa's aged eyes o'erflow.
The old man bends his head, -- but not t' approve, --
And utters these sad words of solemn love :
" 'Twas on thy father's death-bed that he gave
Thee to my care, -- and then he sought his grave;
And from that hour I loved thee tenderly:
Yes! nothing was more dear than thou to me.
Know'st thou old age is on me; and canst thou
Leave me to struggle with its miseries now,
And rush upon life's perils? -- quit the cot
Where sorrow and unkindness enter not, --
Quit every future hope? -- Oh, if thou go,
Thou shalt bear with thee shame and tears and woe!
Thine is a dangerous course: -- I cannot say
'God bless thee! ' Stay, my best-loved Wies? aw, stay! "
All wept, except the village seer. His head
He wisely shook, and thus he gaily said:
"How can the old man understand the young?
Freedom is in their heart, and on their tongue
Sweet change; tempt them with love, with riches' cares,
Still they look further, -- for the world is theirs:
For them restraint is weariness and woe;
And as the spring-bird scours the meadows, so
Proud, free and gay, rejoicing in his might,
O'er rivers, woods, and cliffs he takes his flight,
Until attracted by some gentle strain
He seeks the green and leafy woods again,
And by his mate reposes. Such the laws
Which nature round the star of youth-time draws.
In vain you stop his course, -- and why should he
Be check'd, when God and nature made him free!
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? BRODZIN? SKI. 245
He holds no influence o'er Bronika's doom;
'Tis mutual love makes happy wedlock bloom:
She is a lovely floweret, to be placed
On some fair stranger's bosom. Father, haste
And give thy blessing to thy son; -- for each
Should seize the bliss that grows within his reach. "
To whom old Stanis? aw, -- '"'Not so! not so!
I cannot let my son, my Wies? aw, go:
Thou'rt full of knowledge; but thou canst not know
A father's fondness, and a father's woe,
When the dear object of his grief, his cares, --
With whom he lived, and loved, and labor'd, -- tears
His heart away, and leaves a dark abode
The once love-lighted dwelling where he trod; --
Forgetting all -- all, e'en the tears they pour'd
In solitude, -- while at a stranger's board
The daughter sits. O no ! I long had dream'd
Of bliss to come, -- and sweet and bright it seem'd
To think her mother, when death's curtain fell
Upon my silent grave, in peace should dwell
In her own cottage; -- but 'twas vain to build
Such visions ; -- Be the will of Heaven fulfill'd !
Go -- with my blessing, Wies? aw -- go; let John
Escort thee, counsel thee; -- Heaven's will be done!
Go to thy loved one's dwelling. If the maid
And the maid's friends consent love's wreaths to braid,
Then bring her hither; -- John thy guide shall be,*
And she be welcomed when betroth'd to thee. "
So John and Wies? aw left their home at length:
And Wies? aw, sped by love and youthful strength,
Flew o'er the mountains, through the fields and dells,
* Among the peasantry it is the custom in Poland for the young
man who asks a maid in marriage to take the most venerable of his
friends to plead for him. He is called the Swat. The ceremony of
betrothing follows, and rings are pledged in exchange.
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? 246 POETS AND POETRY OF POLAND.
And reach'd the dwelling where the maiden dwells;
While thus beneath her window, where they stood,
Their strains of music on her ear intrude:
" The beds are cover'd with flowerets sweet,
And rue and rosemary bloom in pride;
A garland lies in the window-seat,
And a maid walks forth to be a bride.
"A youth from a distant land will come,
And soon to the maiden's parents speak;
The daughter will pluck the flowers that bloom,
And swiftly another mother seek.
" O rosemary ! wear thy gems of blue,
And garland once more the maiden's brow;
And wake again, thou emerald rue,
For none shall water thy springing now.
" The cottage is neat, though poor it be,
The blessing of God beams bright on care,
The magpie cries on the old elm tree,
And the maid in her morning robes is there.
"Awake, and open! -- the guests draw nigh,
O welcome them in a day like this;
Eeceive the strangers cordially,
They come to shed and to share in bliss. "
The mother from her spindle rose, and drew
The bolt, -- the creaking door wide open flew;
Old John and youthful Wies? aw entered then, --
Wies? aw of giant height and noble mien,
Whose head reach'd e'en the ceiling. Jadwicz said,
" Welcome, our guests! Sit down and rest, and spread
The news ye bring. " Next came the bright-eyed maid,
Blushing, yet bending like a flower that's weigh'd
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? BRODZIN? SKI. 247
By heavy dews. John hail'd her: "Maiden, stay!
Those rosy cheeks an old man's toils shall pay. "
Then she blush 'd deeper, and from Wies? aw took
His traveling-basket, and his traveling-crook
From the good sire; -- she drew the settle near,
And bid them rest; while whispering in her ear
Jadwicz gave speedy orders: " Light the hearth,
Prepare the meal. " While with a smile of mirth
The old man said, " I would not now transgress
The customs of our fathers, -- I confess
I love old usages; -- so with your leave,
An ye will lend your goblets, and receive
A draught from our own flagon, I will pledge
My landlady, for wine gives wit its edge;
It cheers and it emboldens; tears the veil
That hides the heart, and bids us see and feel:
And, as when children in the crystal brook
Upon their own, their very image look, --
So the red wine's the mirror where we see
Our very souls. The honey-gathering bee
Is a bright emblem of our cares ; he goes
Busy o'er all-providing earth, and shows
What order, care and zeal can do; -- in spring,
From fragrant flowers and orchards blossoming
To his hive brothers bears the gather'd stores:
So in his maiden's lap the fond youth pours
His passions, his affections. How sincere
Is the pure offering of a villager,
Who offers honest, ardent love ! The bee
Its emblem, -- labor, -- concord, -- purity. "
The mother reach'd the goblets. John's discourse
Delighted all; for in it shone the force
Of a clear intellect, which God had given.
He had bound many ties, and had made even
Many strange odds ; -- at every wedding feast
He was the Starost, and of course the guest:
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? 248 POETS AND POETRY OF POLAND.
And hundred children call'd him "Father 1 "; he
Call'd every happy home his family; --
And he was always welcome. Now he took
The goblet in his hand, and o'er it shook
The liquid honey. * " Take it, gentle maid!
It grew in distant fields," he smiling said:
11 Take it, for thou deservest all that's sweet
And beautiful in life. " Her glances meet
Her mother's eye, and with averted look
'Neath her white apron hid,t the maiden took
One solitary drop. The rest old John
Drank to the dregs; -- while like a summer dawn
That brightens into light with blushing hue,
The maiden stood; and the old man anew
Thus said: "The maiden's silence speaks; and now
I'll turn me to her mother: -- Wayward youth,
Both blind and passionate, wants our guide: in truth
It cannot penetrate futurity,
But hangs on love, and trusts to destiny.
Let's lead them then, -- they wander far astray ;
We'll take their hands, and guide them on their way,
And watch their happiness, -- foresee, control
Their path; and God, who watches o'er the whole,
Will turn all ill to good. -- You see the son
Of honest sires, -- though they, alas! are gone,
And sleep beneath the turf; -- yet other sires
Have, pity-touch'd, fann'd all affection's fires,
And taught him virtue. They have given him food;
Trained him, an orphan, to be wise and good:
* Mead is a national beverage of the Poles, and has been so for
many centuries. The best is made in the month of July, when the
lime trees are in flower, at which period the honey is called Lipiec.
Kowno, on the banks of the Niemen, is particularly renowned for its
honey.
t The Polish peasants, as a general thing, always turn away and
cover their faces when they drink in the presence of others.
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-06-10 17:13 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/loc. ark:/13960/t04x6gz3d Public Domain / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd
? BRODZIN?
