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*O SAY not, believe not, the gloom of the


For ever has closed upon Freedom's glad light, For that sealed are the lips of the honest and brave,

And the scorners of baseness are robbed of their right. Though the true to their oaths into exile are driven, Or, weary of wrong, with their own hands have given Their blood to their jailers, their spirits to HeavenYet immortal is Freedom, immortal is Right.

Freedom and Right!

* O, glaubt nicht, sie ruhe fortan bei den Todten,

O, glaubt nicht sie meide fortan dies Geschlecht,

Weil muthigen Sprechern das Wort man verboten

Und Nichtdelatoren verweigert das Recht!

Nein, ob in's Exil auch die Eidfesten schritten;

Ob, müde der Wilkür, die endlos sie litten,

Sich Andre im Kerker die Adern zerschnitten

Doch lebt noch die Freiheit, und mit ihr das Recht!

-Die Freiheit! das Recht !

Nicht mach' uns die einzelne Schlappe verlegen!

Sie fördert die Siege des Ganzen erst recht;

Das wirkt dass wir doppelt uns rühren und regen,

Noch lauter es rufen: die Freiheit ! das Recht!

Denn ewig sind Eins diese heiligen Zweie !

Sie halten zusammen in Trutz und in Treue :

Wo das Recht ist, da wohnen von selber schon Freie,

Und immer, wo Freie sind, waltet das Recht!

-Die Freiheit ! das Recht !

Und auch das sei ein Trost uns: Nie flogen, wie heuer,

Die freudigen Zwei von Gefecht zu Gefecht!

Nie fluthete voller ihr Odem und freier, Durch die Seele selbst brausend dem niedrigsten Knecht !

Sie machen die Runde der Welt und der Lande,


Sie wecken und werben von Strande zu Strande,

Schon sprengten sie kühn des Leibeigenen Bande,

Und sagten zu denen des Negers: Zerbrecht !

-Die Freiheit ! das Recht!

Ja, ihr Banner entflattert und weht allerorten,

Dass die Unbill gesühnt sei, die Schande gerächt!

Ja, und siegen sie hier nicht, so siegen sie dorten,

Und am Ende doch siegen sie gründlich und ächt!

O Gott, welch ein Kranz will sie glorreich dann zieren!

All' die Läuber, die Völker im Fahnentuch führen !

Die Olive des Griechen, das Kleeblatt des Iren,

Und vor Allem germanisches Eichengeflecht!

-Die Freiheit! das Recht!

Wohl ruhn dann schon manche, die jetzo noch leiden-

Doch ihr Schlummer ist süss, und ihr Ruhn ist gerecht!

Und licht an den Gräbern stehen die Beiden,

Die wir ihnen auch danken-die Freiheit! das Recht!

Unterdess hebt die Gläser! Ihr Wohl, die da stritten!

Die da stritten, und muthig in's Elend drum schritten!

Die das Recht uns verfochten, und Unrecht drum litten!

Hoch ewig das Recht-und die Freiheit durch's Recht!

-Die Freiheit durch's Recht!

Let us not be by partial defeats disconcerted;

They will make the grand triumph more signal and bright;
Thus whetted, our zeal will be doubly exerted,

And the cry be raised louder of Freedom and Right!
For these two are one, and they mock all endeavour
Of despots their holy alliance to sever,

Where there's Right be ye sure there are freemen, and ever
Where freemen are found, will God prosper the Right.
Freedom and Right!

And let this thought, too, cheer us,-more proudly defiant
The twins never bore them in fight after fight,
Never breathed forth a spirit more joyous and buoyant,

Making heroes of dastards in nature's despite.

Round the wide earth they're marching; their message they've spoken,
And nations leap up at the heart-thrilling token;

For the serf and the slave they have battled, and broken
The fetters that hung upon black limbs and white.
Freedom and Right!

And battle they still, where the voice of earth's sorrow
Tells of wrongs to avenge, of oppressors to smite;
And conquerors this day, or conquered to-morrow,

Fear ye not, in the end they will conquer outright.

Oh! to see the bright wreath round their victor brows shining,
All the leaves that are dear to the nations combining,

Erin's shamrock, the olive of Hellas entwining

With the oak-leaf, proud emblem of Germany's might!
Freedom and Right!

There are sore aching bosoms and dim eyes of weepers
Will be gathered to rest ere that day see the light;
ye two will hallow the graves of the sleepers,


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ye blest ones, we owe to them, Freedom and Right!
Fill your glasses meanwhile :-To the hearts that were true, boys,
To the cause that they loved when the storm fiercest blew, boys,
Who had wrong for their portion, but won right for you, boys,
Drink to them, to the Right, and to Freedom through Right!

Freedom through Right!

These lines and a translation of Burns's brave song, 'A man's a man for a' that,' were absolutely prohibited for reasons which we cite as a curiosity in their way. They are as follows:

"The fundamental notions from which both poems proceed are in their clear and pure conception and application perfectly true, and may even be uttered and extolled in a poetical form. But such a turn and import is given them in the said poems that a provocative appeal is thereby made to the tendencies in conflict with the existing social and political order of things, the first poem, namely, addressing itself to false

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ideas of freedom, the second to the mutually hostile opposition of the several ranks of society: wherefore these poems are manifestly at variance with the principles of the censorship as laid down in the fourth article of the Instructions."*

And it is in the teeth of such damning evidence as this that here and there some crotchety Englishman can affect to mourn over the poet's descent into the ignoble region of political strife! As if freedom were not the living breath of all true poetry, or as if there could be found champion more fit than the poet himself to defend the dignity and the existence of his noble art. Shut up your poet in a cage, a golden one if you will, give him a court censor for a singing master, and forbid him to warble his native notes as his own tuneful instincts prompt him, and then rejoice as you may in his performance. If he obeys, you will have mere tricks of sound, suited to tickle the ear of a Sybarite, but from which every manly hearer will turn away disgusted. But, thank heaven, the true poet will not, cannot obey; his voice will be heard indignantly protesting, warning, chiding, or it will be silent for ever. "Poetry," forsooth, "ought not to be degraded to common tasks." So says a contemporary: but is it a common task to rouse the mighty heart of a whole people, to put a living soul into the unformed mass of popular feeling, a voice into the inarticulate moanings of a nation's woe, to send forth winged words that shall pierce the despot's ear, despite his triple guard of pomp, custom, and authority? What powers were too great for a task like this; or what gift can the patriot deem too precious to bestow on his suffering country? Rougher weapons may suffice for this strife;" but weapons must be wielded by strong hands, and hands are nothing without hearts. Music, like poetry, is an incorporeal thing; yet men ply the rude trade of war to its invigorating strains. No great poet, from Homer downwards, has ever been indifferent to the social and civil interests of his own times; not a few have drawn their noblest inspirations from the battle between right and might, waged before their own eyes. True it is, that Germany has been much infested of late by a tribe of political poetasters, journalists run mad, who write volumes of newspaper diatribes and leading articles in rhyme but these

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Die Grundgedanken, von welchen beide Gedichte ausgehen, sind bei klarer und reiner Auffassung und Anwendung vollkommen wahr, und mögen auch in poetischer Form ausgesprochen und verherrlicht werden. Es ist aber denselben in vorliegenden Gedichten eine solche Wendung und Beziehung gegeben, dass damit den gegen die bestehende, sociale und politische, Ordnung der Dinge ankämpfenden Tendenzen-in dem ersten den falschen Freiheits-Ideen, in dem andern der feindlichen Entgegensetzung der verschiedenen Stände-in aufregender Weise das Wort geredet wird, wesshalb die Censurwidrigkeit dieser Gedichte nach Artikel iv. der Censur-Instruction sich klar herausstellt.

BERLIN, den 13 Februar, 1844.

Das königl. Ober-Censurgericht, BORNEMANN.

men mistake their vocation; Poetry disowns them; the man whom she marks for her own will not dishonour his high calling, whatever be the field in which he is pleased to exercise it. Let us, then, deal trustingly with Genius; it can walk safely by its own transcendent light, and needs not the farthing candle held up to it by critical pedantry.

Revenons à nos moutons. In a parallel between the character of Hamlet, and that of the Germans in general, Freiligrath places bodily before his countrymen that cardinal defect to which their political degradation is before all things ascribable.


Deutschland ist Hamlet!-Ernst und


In seinen Thoren jede Nacht
Geht die begrabene Freiheit um,

Und winkt dem Männern auf der

Da steht die Hohe, blank bewehrt,
Und sagt dem Zaudrer, der noch zwei-

"Sei mir ein Rächer, zieh' dein

Man hat mir Gift in's Ohr getraüfelt!"

Er horcht mit zitterndem Gebein,
Bis ihm die Wahrheit shrecklich tagt;
Von Stund' an will er Rächer sein-
Ob er es wirklich endlich wagt?

Er sinnt und träumt und weiss nicht

Kein Mittel, das die Brust ihm stähle!
Zu einer frischen, muth'gen That
Fehlt ihm die frische, muth'ge Seele!

Das macht, er hat zu viel gehockt;
Er lag und las zu viel im Bett.
Er wurde, weil das Blut ihm stockt,
Zu kurz von Athem und zu fett.
Er spann zu viel gelehrten Werg,
Sein bestes Thun ist eben Denken;
Er stack zu lang in Wittenberg,
Im Hörsaal oder in den Schenken.

Drum fehlt ihm die Entschlossenheit;
Kommt Zeit, kommt Rath-er stellt
sich toll,

Hält Monologe lang und breit,
Und bringt in Verse seinen Groll;
Stutzt ihn zur Pantomime zu,

Und fällt's ihm einmal ein, zu fechten:
So muss Polonius-Kotzebue

Den Stich empfangen statt des Rechten.

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Deutschland is Hamlet.

So trägt er träumerisch sein Weh'
Verhöhnt sich selber in's Geheim,
Lässt sich verschicken über See,
-Und kehrt mit Stichelreden heim;
Verschiesst ein Arsenal von Spott,
Spricht von geflickten Lumpenkön'-

Doch eine That? Behüte Gott!
Nie hatt er Eine zu beschön'gen!

Bis endlich er die Klinge packt,
Ernst zu erfüllen seinem Schwur;
Doch ach-das ist im letzten Akt,
Und streckt ihn selbst zu Boden nur!
Bei den Erschlagnen, die sein Hass
Preis gab der Schmach und dem Ver-

Liegt er entseelt, und Fortinbras
Rückt klirrend ein, das Reich zu

Gottlob, noch sind wir nicht so weit!
Vier Akte sahn wir spielen erst.
Hab' Acht, Held, das die Aehnlichkeit
Nicht auch im fünften du bewährst!
Wir hoffen früh, wir hoffen spät:

O raff' dich auf, und komm' zu Streiche,
Und hilf entschlossen, weil es geht,
Zu ihrem Recht der fleh'nden Leiche!

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Thus lives he sadly, dreamily, And still his own faint heart impeaches;

He lets them send him over sea,

And comes back armed with-caustic speeches.

If bitter words could kill the king,

None more expert than he to use 'em; But downright action? That's a thing Of which his worst foes can't accuse him.

At last his sword is fairly out:

Something he will do now or never. Alas, five acts to bring about

This tardy and ill-starred endeavour! Lifeless beside his felon foes,

The self-undone, behold he lies; And Fortinbras, while none oppose, Walks in and makes the realm his prize.

Thank God, we're not yet come to that, Our fifth act is not yet begun. Beware, my hero, lest as pat

Even to the end the likeness run! Here sit we hoping, hoping still;

O for one proof of manhood! Haste With heart and hand, with wit and will To right the poor ghost while thou mayst.

Strike while 'tis time; strike bravely NOW!

Ere treacherous Laertes come With poisoned blade from France, and thou

Be foully slain; ere trump and drum An army from the north proclaim

Heirs of thy spoils;-as for the region Whence we may now expect the same, I greatly doubt if it's Norwegian. But one resolve! Away with sloth!

Tread valiantly the path before thee! Bethink thee of thy sacred oath;

Think whose the voice that doth im-
plore thee!

Why all this quibbling sophistry?
But can I chide, fantastic schemer?
Myself am but a part of thee,
Thou evermore unready dreamer!

We had marked several other pieces for translation, but their length obliges us to omit them all but one; this we have chosen as well for its hopeful spirit as for the ingenious manner in which it moralises a local phenomenon, somewhat perhaps as Jaques might have done if ever his habitual melancholy was

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