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Translated by C. T. Brooks
MARK ye how yon time-worn towers, | |
| In the golden noontide hours, | |
| Greet each other o’er the straits, | |
| Where the Hellespont rolls thundering | |
| Through the Dardanelles, wide sundering | 5 |
| In his march their rocky gates? | |
| Hear ye how the stormy surges, | |
| Moaning, lash the naked rock, | |
| Asia’s coast from Europe rending? | |
| Love fears not their sullen shock. | 10 |
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| Long had Hero and Leander, | |
| Pierced by Love’s resistless arrow, | |
| Nursed a sweet and secret pang; | |
| Hero, fair as Hebe blooming, | |
| He, through wild and mountain roaming, | 15 |
| Where the chase tumultuous rang. | |
| Fearful feuds, their sires dividing, | |
| Frowned upon the lovers’ bliss, | |
| And the fruit of sweet affection | |
| Hung o’er danger’s wild abyss. | 20 |
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| There, on Sestos’ rocky tower, | |
| Where tempestuously each hour | |
| Wild the Euxine moans and swells, | |
| Sat the maiden, lone and weary, | |
| Gazing o’er the waters dreary, | 25 |
| Where the fondly loved one dwells. | |
| Ah, no bridge across those billows | |
| Shall her trembling footsteps stay; | |
| No bold vessel stems the surges; | |
| Love alone hath found the way. * * * * * | 30 |
| Darkly now the waves were flowing, | |
| And she bade the torch bright-glowing | |
| From the lofty window gleam. | |
| The lone swimmer, faint and weary, | |
| Mid the waste of waters dreary | 35 |
| Soon shall hail its guiding beam. | |
| Wildly curl the blackening billows; | |
| Every star is quenched on high, | |
| And the moan of sullen breakers | |
| Hoarsely speaks the tempest nigh. | 40 |
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| Wide o’er Pontus’ plains extending | |
| Night now broods, and floods descending | |
| Burst from every angry cloud; | |
| Forked lightnings rend the heavens, | |
| And from out their rocky caverns | 45 |
| All the storms howl wild and loud. | |
| Now the gloomy, giant billows | |
| To the skies in fury swell, | |
| And now yawn the deep abysses, | |
| Like the hungry jaws of Hell. * * * * * | 50 |
| And the tempest’s wild lash urges | |
| Mountain-high the thundering surges | |
| Up the cliff and o’er the rock; | |
| Sullen moan the whitening breakers; | |
| E’en the oak-ribbed vessel staggers, | 55 |
| Nor unshattered ’scapes the shock. | |
| Flickering in the wind that moment, | |
| Dies the torch’s beacon-light; | |
| And the billows and the landing | |
| With wild horrors mock the sight. * * * * * | 60 |
| And the wild winds cease their blowing, | |
| And the steeds of Morn, bright-glowing, | |
| Climb their eastern path on high. | |
| Peaceful on his bed old Ocean | |
| Flows along with shining motion, | 65 |
| Smiling to the smiling sky. | |
| And the waves with gentlest whisper | |
| Greet the rock and kiss the strand; | |
| And at length a corpse comes floating | |
| In their light wake up the sand. | 70 |
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| Ay, ’t is he,—one glance reveals him,— | |
| He, who e’en in death is faithful! | |
| Faithful to his solemn vow! | |
| Not a groan,—no sigh she utters,— | |
| Not a tear her pale cheek moistens,— | 75 |
| Marble-cold she stands there now. | |
| O’er the dreary deep she gazes, | |
| Looks despairing to the sky, | |
| And a kindling fire illumines | |
| Her pale cheek and fading eye. * * * * * | 80 |
| In the breeze her loose robes flutter,— | |
| From the battlement she plunges | |
| Down into the sounding wave; | |
| And the God of ocean proudly | |
| Bears on high the holy corpses, | 85 |
| And himself prepares their grave. | |
| Then triumphantly the billows | |
| With their proud prey onward sweep, | |
| From the never-failing fountains | |
| Of the unfathomable deep. | 90 |
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