The Stragglers - Carl Spitteler

"Have all the bell-notes come back to me?"

"All but the notes that stray farthest - three."

"And which are those that return so late?"

"The full-toned, the searching, the delicate."

Over the breast-work, lustrous with noonday light,

     Leant the cathedral sprite,

Good-humored and warm with sun.

And first came the delicate one.

     "You're late - why so?

Twelve o'clock struck eight minutes ago.

     And your radiant air!

You have little leaves in your hair!"

(The Delicate Note)

"Slim was I born,

I can creep through hawthorn.

As through hawthorn crept I,

A blackbird chanced on my head to fly,

And a sunbeam glanced through my leg - so we

Were blithesome fellow-travelers three.

The blackbird kept singing, and I kept singing,

And the sunbeam from one to the other kept springing."

     "O bravely done!"

And now comes the searching one.

     "You're late - why so?

Twelve o'clock struck nine minutes ago.

     And your radiant air!

You've a little rose in your hair!"

(The Searching Note)

     "Completely I lost my way

     In faery-wood to-day;

     Heard the lilt of a brook,

     So to find it must look.

And a girl was playing,

Of beauty beyond all saying.

From above looked the heaven of blue,

So I thought I would watch her too."

 "O bravely done!"

And now comes the full-toned one.

     "You're late - why so?

Twelve o'clock struck ten minutes ago.

     And your radiant air!

You've a little crown in your hair!"

(The Full-Toned Note)

"Of the boundless ether drinking,

I came on a man who was thinking.

I wondered of what it could be,

And followed unseen to see.

He entered a house, and there

Glad welcome rent the air.

I wanted to see glad wind-pipes thrill,

So lingered awhile at the window-sill."

 "O bravely done!"

Tomorrow's day is another one.

Go now with your radiance gleaming

To color the bell's deep dreaming -

     No hue is too bright;

Paint all your delight!

For good-will and glad heart

     Are the marrow of art."

---

Carl Spitteler (1845 — 1924) Switzerland

Translated by Ethel Colburn Mayne

Source: Ross' Columns (taken from Selected Poems translated by Ethel Colburn Mayne and James F. Muirhead)